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Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks

By: Peterspeter



I'd made my high school years tough by hanging with the "nerds" and the "geeks." Not that it wasn't correct to call us that, it's just that I didn't like being singled out and called names. 

But I had to admit it.'It's true, it's what I am.' 

There wasn't a lot of uniformity in our group. We were distinguished by our prickly concentrations on our selves. Writing, drama, classical music, cooking, and long-distance biking were among our loves. At first mine was nineteenth-century novels and role-playing from them, but in my senior year I discovered photography.

As a freshman, I paid a little extra and got a single dorm room. Photography became my obsession. By the end of the year I'd had to buy two 40-gig external drives for my Mac and was more likely to lurk around the campus than study. Oh I got by, and that was okay, but classes didn't excite me.

By spring I noticed my loneliness. 'Living in a single room means just that: single. Alone. Solo. Unencumbered, that's who I am.' It didn't meant friendless, because the guys on the floor were friendly enough, and I had acquaintances from classes. But I was lonely.

Many of the guys on the floor had girlfriends. Girlfriends who slept over with them, or who hosted them in their rooms. Girlfriends whose laughter echoed in my mind and whose shrieks of pleasure I heard through the walls at night. 

Getting laid became my second obsession. 

By November of my sophomore year my luck hadn't changed and I concluded that I had to make some sort of change. I decided to move off campus and get a roommate.

The number of on-line ads for apartment-sharing was overwhelming. I set my criteria to walking distance to the library, male heterosexual roommate, separate bedroom, safe neighborhood, and bearable rent. Even then, it was hard to get the list to a manageable size. Then I saw this ad:

Male roommate wanted. Available immediately. Separate bedroom. Share kitchen. Safe building. Walk to campus. No smoking. Nerds, geeks welcome. It sounded exactly like what I wanted.

'Does Google personalize even classified ads?' I wondered. I clicked the link, asking about the rent and saying I met all the criteria.

I was still poring over the other possibilities when the ding told me I had a response. "Hi Carl, sounds great! Let's talk."

It was easy to spot Pete when I arrived at the student union. As he had described himself, he was tall and wore a plaid shirt, We exchanged information on interests, high schools, families, and majors. The rent was more than the dorm but that was okay because the university was trying to get single rooms back so they could convert them to doubles. They were offering to pay the difference between the dorm rent and an off-campus apartment for the rest of the year to anyone who gave up a single. 

The situation seemed perfect, just what I wanted.

"Can I see it?"

"Sure. Let's go."

Pete's former roommate had left a bedframe, dresser, desk chair, and desk. I'd have to buy a mattress, box spring, and bedding, but that was it. The two bedrooms opened onto the living room and were separated by the kitchen and bathroom. It was perfect.

"Can I ask you something, Pete?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"How come you said 'nerds and geeks welcome' in the ad?"

"To be honest, it's because I don't want to have jocks and party animals around. I'm a neat person who likes his peace and quiet. I usually study in my room. Is that okay with you?"

"Oh sure. I work on my photos till all hours of the night, if that won't bother you."

"No problem. Is it a deal?"

We shook hands on it, and Pete broke out two cold Sprites from the refrigerator.

"Oh, I should have mentioned one thing."

"What's that?"

"I've got some girlfriends. Could you make yourself scarce when they're here?"

"You mean leave? I —"

"No, not leave, just hang out your room. We won't spend much time in the living room, if you get my drift."

I gulped.

"Okay, I guess, yeah, that won't be a problem, sure."

"I appreciate that. I go out once or twice a week and on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes I won't be home until morning."

I moved in the next week. We got along great, dividing the refrigerator into sections, sharing gallon jugs of milk, even taking turns vacuuming the living room and cleaning the bathroom.

The parade of women was unending. At least once a week a new girl spent the night with him or he was at a girl's place. Sunday afternoons he was gone from noon to past dinner time. While the bathroom and the kitchen were between our rooms, I still heard all sorts of noise from their lovemaking.

I was envious, intensely jealous. What did he have that I didn't? One night, just before Christmas break, I brought it up.

"It's nothing special, that's for sure. I have to work at it. I'd like to talk about it, but right now I can't say anything more. I will, sometime soon. I just can't discuss it now. I'm sorry."

I moped about his secret for a week, even thinking of following him. But he was a good roommate and I didn't want to ruin that.

When the Christmas cards addressed in female handwriting began arriving, I sunk deeper into my funk. The two little boxes wrapped in red paper with gold ribbon that I stumbled over outside the front door one morning, with the cards addressed "Peter" tucked under the bows, did nothing to improve my mood.

Exams took my mind off my social zeroness, and then there were the holidays with my family. Mom saying "I love you" and my sister kissing me under the mistletoe didn't do it for me. I couldn't wait to get back to school.

Classes resumed and Pete and I fell back into our pattern. One Wednesday evening in late January, while we were watching television, his cell rang.

"Great! I'm really glad to hear it. Thanks for calling."

Pete flipped the phone shut.

"Man, today is your lucky day."

"You found 'For a good time call Suzie' and a phone number on a men's room wall, written in neat script, and decided she was my kind of girl?" My sarcasm wasn't funny even to me. Pete ignored it.

"I belong to a club. It's where I go on Sunday afternoons."

"A club?" He'd never said anything about any clubs he belonged to.

"A social club. The membership is limited, so someone has to leave before anyone else can join. It would be perfect for you, but I had to wait for an opening. That's what the phone call was about."

"What kind of a club? You know I'm not a joiner."

"Me neither. But it has some real benefits."

"Like?"

"Like it's how I meet girls."

The thunderclap rattled my brain.

"Tell me about it."

"Look, I've already said too much. If you can make it, I'll take you to the next meeting, on Sunday." 

The "clubhouse" was a big Victorian a couple of blocks off campus. There were maybe eight guys hanging out in the large living room, talking to an equal number of women. A bigger group was in the dining room, not all of them guys, noisily watching the basketball game on a wide-screen. They all seemed pleased to see Pete and he introduced me.

Mrs. McGowen, the owner of the house, was also the president of the club. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. Pete introduced us and, after some polite chitchat, she had me follow her to the parlor. After closing the door, she sat primly on the loveseat and motioned me to an upholstered chair. After the usual questions about family, major, and hobbies, she got to the point.

"Do you like sex?"

"Uh, yeah," I said. "Sure. I mean, who doesn't?"

"Do you like sex with women?"

"Best kind," I said, in a chipper voice.

"Gotten any lately?"

I could lie, I could evade, or I could tell the truth. The truth was simpler. "No. None. Never."

"I appreciate your honesty. What's your take on the women out there?" she said, waving in the direction of the front of the house.

"They seem fine, nice, normal, like anybody else," I parried.

"Well, they're not. They, and you, are what people call 'nerds' or 'geeks.' Male or female, our society today pushes the idea that everyone has to look like celebrities. 'Normal' people don't look like them. 'Normal' people look like you, like the people you met out there, just regular people." 

This was a little abstract for me.

"So why are you interested in my sex life?"

"Because this is a place where the members go to get beyond the 'nerd' or 'geek' label and meet people like themselves. It is a club that encourages its members to have a healthy relationship with someone of the opposite sex."

"This isn't a whorehouse, is it?" I blurted.

She smiled wanely. "Not at all. The club is for people who want to mingle and have relationships with people like themselves. There is no requirement for monogamy and we don't encourage long-term relationships."

"Oh."

"Yes, that's what membership in the club is about."

"And now I'm a member?"

"Not yet. New people have to be approved, unanimously, by the entire membership. Pete's told several of us that you would be great for the club, and I can see that he's right. That's why he brought you here today."

I had lost the thread of the conversation after "approved, unanimously." Never gonna happen. "I don't know if —"

"You haven't heard me, have you Carl? Approval by the beautiful people isn't what the members care about. You're probably sick and tired of hearing that the 'real you' is what's attractive. So it's going to take a girl, or a couple of girls, to convince you that you, just like you are, are attractive and desirable. That's what the club is all about."

"How does it work?"

"These Sunday parties are just simple get-togethers, snacks and cards, watch the game. You saw the big-screen in the dining room? We have lots of chairs and couches for members to sit and chat. Members keep in touch by coming to the party. Attending on Sunday means you're interested in having one or two dates during the following week."

One. Or two. Dates. During the week. Me?

"Each member has two markers. After the Sunday party the women place their markers on the days when they'd like to go out. The men put their markers on top of theirs to signal that they will ask them for a date. The man is responsible to call and arrange the date.

"Where you go or what you do is entirely up to the couple. But you have to go Dutch, because we don't want any suggestion that you're paying for something."

It still didn't seem like it was describing something I could have. Me. On a date. Dutch. With a girl.

"You've heard about the three-date rule?" I heard her say.

"Oh sure. First date kiss, second date fondle, third date . . . , uh, sex. Right?"

"Right. Only here we have a first-date rule."

"Sex on the first date!?"

"Yes. That's the club's iron-clad rule. If that's not okay with you, then we are not for you."

Wow. 

"What if, you know, I don't like her?"

"Then don't put your token on hers. You have to circulate, get to know the members, so you can make an intelligent choice. And the other members will be doing the same."

"What if she doesn't like me? I mean, I'm not the most attractive guy around."

"You're not hearing me, Carl. This is a club. If you're voted in, that decision has been made. It means they like you. 

"When a woman puts her token on the board, she's agreeing to go out with whoever puts his token on hers. Your responsibility is what a man's always is, to treat her nice and satisfy her needs. Which is why you both joined the club."

"Suppose I find someone I really like, and want to be exclusive with?"

"In that case, you and she must drop out of the club. That's the main reason we have vacancies. And you should know that you cannot re-join the club."

She paused, pulled her legs up under her, and continued.

"The club operates for the benefit of its members. You must agree to date only members, never anyone else. This rule is partly to give everyone a chance for dates and partly because of STDs. You are required to take and pass an STD test for admission and take a new one every six months after that. If you fail the test, you cannot continue as a member.

"We also have a 'no condoms' rule."

"Eh?"

"It means that the use of condoms is forbidden. The women are all on the pill."

I must have looked confused.

"Carl, I realize this is a lot to digest at one time. You should think about this, sleep on it." She rose and went over to her desk, picked up a business card, and handed it to me. "Here's the address of the clinic that will do the test. The next party after the test will be your interview. I can't guarantee anything, but my experience is that new guys are always welcome, especially by the women."

The party was pretty much as Mrs. McGowen had described it. Pete took me around and introduced me to the over thirty-five members who were there. A mixed group was watching basketball on the wide-screen. The others were hanging out in the living room and a clump of the women was off to one side, loudly playing cards. I was framing the scene in my mind when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the women gesturing toward me to the others in her group. She was checking me out. For sex.

Pete slapped his cell shut.

"You're in! I knew it would happen. C'mon, let's go back to the house and see who's on the board."

I recognized a couple of names, one of whom I'd had a conversation with, about Margaret Bourke-White.

"How do I choose? I don't want to be embarrassed. I've never, you know, eh —"

"Gotten laid?"

I blushed red as a fire engine. "Yes."

"I lost my virginity in the club, last spring. The members who've been here for a while know how to treat a new guy."

"Do I have to tell them? Can't I just, you know, fake it?"

"You could, but what's the fun of that? When a girl knows that she has a virgin, she makes a special effort. Trust me, I had the time of my life."

We looked over the board. There were twenty-seven tokens, four of which had been covered.

"What nights do you want to go out this week?"

"I don't know. I guess sooner rather than later. I'm nervous." I sucked air. "Tuesday. I'll do it on Tuesday."

"Here, try this one," Pete said, pointing to one of the tokens on Tuesday. "Now, what other day would you like to have a date?"

"Uh, Friday, I guess."

"Okay. Recognize any of the names there?"

I did. In fact, she was in the living room right now.

"Do you like her?"

"Yeah, we're in the same English Lit class."

"Well, make your choice."

I laid my token on hers. I wrote down both names and their phone numbers and walked back to the apartment in a daze.

"Look, I remember how I felt on my first date. I'd never gotten to second base with a girl. I was terrified of behaving like a dork, not knowing what to do. I was scared that she'd laugh at me and tell everyone how I'd made a fool of myself. 

"Didn't happen. She was wonderful. Just remember: insert tab A into slot B, then wiggle." 

I called Margery and we agreed that our Tuesday date would be a movie at the multiplex and then dinner. My Friday date was Karen, for dinner in the student union.

As I waited for Tuesday, I couldn't believe how calm I was. Talking with Pete had helped a lot, because I was afraid of the same things he had been afraid of. I resolved to stop masturbating after Sunday night, to store up energy for what was going to happen. Since I didn't remember meeting Margery, so I checked her Facebook page but there was no photo. I settled on a made-up girl with medium tits, brown hair, a short nose, clear complexion, and a loose blouse. I broke my resolution in the shower on Monday morning but held out afterwards.

We did scissors-paper-stone to select the movie and came up with a chick flick. In the darkness she put her hand on my thigh. She leaned into me and slapped my arm when some of the more wacky scenes came on.

Dinner at the Olive Garden brought out that she was part Italian, on her mother's side, and that she liked old movies, particularly Blazing Saddles. I got her to use my pocket camera to snap away at everybody in the restaurant — waiters, other diners, and me. After we paid the bill, I took her into the kitchen because I wanted to photograph the cooks. She mugged with the chefs and laughed when she looked into the back of the camera and saw herself.

Pete had volunteered to vacate the apartment, so that it wouldn't be awkward to bring Margery there. I got us Sprites and we cropped and printed the best of the photos, which included two she took. We spread them between us on the couch.

"These are great! You're really good," I said, and meant it. She smiled, then kissed me.

I was kissed. For the first time. By a girl. Who wasn't my sister. Who very likely was going to have sex with me.

"So are you," she said.

"That was very nice."

"Want to do some more?"

"Sure."

She gathered up the photos and placed them on the floor next to the couch. Then she leaned into me and reached behind my head, drawing me closer and pushing her breasts into my chest. She opened her lips and used her tongue to pry open mine. When her tongue entered my mouth, I pushed back defensively and she just pushed harder. I pushed harder still and moved my hands to her waist. After a couple of minutes she gently pushed me back onto the couch and lay beside me, on the outside.

"That was so nice. I'm glad you like to kiss."

"I've never — "

"Shhh," she said, putting her finger to my lips. As I stopped talking, she slowly wiggled that finger between my lips and ran it along my teeth.

It was soft, with a sweetness I will never be able to describe. I licked it, at first tentatively and then, when she didn't pull away, more assertively. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked it into my mouth. She wiggled it back and forth and I ran my tongue all along it.

In my excitement, I shifted my hips and knocked her off the couch. She landed with a thud on the floor.

"Oh no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to — "

Instead of being mad, she came up grinning. "It's fine, this is fun. C'mon, can we go somewhere wider?"

My bed was a double. Was she already —?

"In here," I gestured at my bedroom door.

I extended my hand and she swung to her feet in one motion, standing tight against me. I walked to the door, opened it, flipped on the light, and stepped aside to let her enter. I followed, closing the door behind me.

"You ought to lock it, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah, right," and I flipped the latch.

As I turned around she was smiling. "You keep a neat room. Can we sit?" She sat on my bed and I moved to the desk chair.

"Please, sit with me, here," and she patted the bed.

"Oh, yeah, right," and I moved to sit beside her.

We kissed, and again she gently pushed me back. We fit easily, with no chance of falling off. With her breasts again tight against my chest, her bottom hand drew my head toward her while the top one reached for my shirt buttons, opening them while she distracted me with her tongue.

I wasn't catatonic, but I wasn't participating much either. Her warmth and persistence gave me confidence to stroke her hair and shoulder and then reach for her hips to pull her closer. She snuggled against my erection.

When we broke, breathing heavily, she set up on her elbow, smiling. Kindly, I thought. 

"I love this, and I want it to be just right. Will you let me do things and show you how you can do them too?"

"Will you? That would be great!" I was so relieved

"Unbutton my blouse, then unhook my bra," she said, moving closer to me. I was tentative but she stayed steady. She had me pull her blouse out of her pants, then turned away so I could see her back and the clasp of her bra. As its tension released, I caught a glimpse of a breast springing free. When she turned to face me, she shrugged, and there they were.


Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 02



After breakfast with Margery, I sleep-walked through my two morning classes. I'd been fucked three times in the last 12 hours, my first three times, and I couldn't get the experience out of my mind. 

When I got back to the apartment, Pete was making his lunch. He smiled as I flopped into the kitchen chair.

"Have a nice night?"

"I am so tired," I sighed. 

He hooted after I recapped my night. "Three fucks and a blowjob! Man, first times don't get any better than that! You are launched!"

"Is it always this intense?" I felt now that I was on a level plane with him and didn't need to pretend to more knowledge than I had.

"Depends on the girl and the situation. You'll always remember this one, that's for sure. Beats jacking off, doesn't it?"

"Oh yeah. I want to keep doing this. Do you think she'll date me again?"

"Margery likes to get around. You can ask her, there's no rule against that. But don't you already have a Friday date?"

"Oh jeez, yeah! Karen. She must have been in my eleven o'clock. Oh god, I didn't even see her."

The bed was a mess. The sheets were crinkly with dried cum, so I spread a blanket on top of them and lay down. After a two-hour nap, I got up and stripped the bed, then walked to the laundromat. As I was peeling apart the sheets, I blushed to myself imagining my mother prepping a load of wash, breaking apart my cum-encrusted underwear as she piled it into the washer.

After dinner in the student union, I felt a lot better. I'd never paid much attention to the various food courts there, but now I was interested, since my date with Karen was for dinner there on Friday. Three or four offered something that appealed to me, so I felt I could steer us in an interesting direction.

Fucking Margery was the greatest experience of my young life. And I wanted to do it again. Maybe not with Margery, as Pete said. There were more than two dozen other female members of the club. But this is really tiring. If I am going to have this intense a social life, and I don't have any idea about a major and am just taking required classes, I better get a plan. And boy do I have a purpose for staying in school — I am going to get laid! Regularly! Guaranteed! Twice a week if I want to! Maybe more if I hit it off with one of the girls.

I devoted my no-class Thursday to cleaning the apartment (since it was my week) and filing photos on my computer. I also cropped and stored the images from my date with Margery and emailed her a couple of shots that I thought she might use on her Facebook page. I also mailed her the prints we'd made before we went to bed that night. Margery responded to the photos with a warm note of thanks and closed, "see you on Sunday." I also checked out Karen's Facebook page. She had a photo, several in fact, but I thought I could do better.

Friday I had three classes but was done by one. I wandered around a small shopping mall in the neighborhood and decided to concentrate on overweight women. There was this one woman struggling with too many packages, juggling them into her car. I got a couple of shots of the paper bags breaking and spilling their contents onto the ground. By five I called it a day and headed home. I took a shower and was at the coffee shop where Karen and I had agreed to meet by 6:30.

"I'm so glad you're on time!" she said as she slid into the booth. "I have had a crazy day! The show is so complicated! I've written the program for the scenery changes, the curtain closings, the lights, everything, but they keep changing the timing. We're opening in a week for 12 performances and the pressure is driving me crazy!"

"Slow down, Karen. You've got to fill me in on what you're talking about. Let's start over.

"Hi, I'm Carl. I'm your date for tonight. Would you like something to drink before we go to dinner?"

"That's sweet. You're right, I just dropped everything on you like you knew what I was doing.

"Hi Carl, I'm glad to meet you. Unsweetened iced tea would be wonderful."

We sipped our drinks and she relaxed.

"I got into computers in junior high school. Sim City, making complicated things work, covering a lot of variables, handling unexpected problems. It helped that my dad works for a company that does hardware troubleshooting, because he could get me faster and faster machines for a good price.

"I acted in high school plays and wanted to be a drama major. The professors were kind, but it turns out I have no acting skills at all! I just cannot control my body and my emotions at the same time and reflect everything on my face. But I love theater! Just by chance I got asked to do some scenery work and realized that Carpenter Theater has a computer-driven backstage. I've been doing the tech work for three years now and if I do say so myself, I'm really good at it!"

By now we were finished our second drink (she iced tea again, me all in with a pepsi). We paid our separate bills and I suggested the Italian food court for dinner.

Yes! Italian is my favorite! Our next-door neighbors were from Abruzzi and they cooked wonderful pasta and meat dishes. I have no idea how I avoided becoming fat with everything my girlfriends and I ate there!"

Over dinner I learned that Karen lived in the same dorm I had been in, three floors down. She had a single room, she said, and liked it that way, since there was no roommate to hassle her. In addition to her theater work, she was a junior-varsity field hockey player in the fall and, now that it was getting closer to Spring, she wanted to see what competitive Frisbee was like.

"I'm not on scholarship, but my parents want a solid B average. Or else! I came close to crossing the line at the end of my sophomore year and they threatened to stop paying for school. So my life is pretty tightly structured.

"Which is why," she confided as she leaned across the table and took my hand in hers, "I joined the club.

"How about you?"

"Would it be okay to admit that I wanted to meet girls?"

"You were in my dorm. We were all over the place. I dated a guy who probably was on your floor. C'mon, spill."

"Okay, I'm sorta focused, and, well, I just never got around much."

Good! We understand each other! C'mon, let's go."

The dorm was a short walk from the union, and we were up the elevator and in her room in 10 minutes.

My little sister's room was like this: girly-girl but controlled. Desk, chair, laptop, piles of books on the floor, bed made, nice curtains on the window. There were two pillows.

Karen flipped her sandals off and sprawled on one half of the bed, leaving room for me. I untied my sneakers and sat down beside her, complimenting her on her color choices. I reached to cup her head and bent to kiss her.

She pulled me down to her, not hard but firmly, and opened her mouth. Our tongues collided and I folded myself against her body. She slid her hand down the back of my polo shirt, then pulled it out of my pants. We sat up and she had it off in one fluid movement.

We kissed again and fell backward. I moved to the inner thigh of her near leg as I felt my erection getting firmer.

She pulled me down to her chest and molded her crotch to mine. I felt her heat against my bare chest and wrapped my arms around her. Our mouths stayed connected until we had to break for breath.

"Stand up, Karen, please."

"My room, my style. You stand, I get you naked." As I stood, she sat on the edge of the bed and undid my belt, popped the button on my pants, and pushed them down. She had me lift my left foot so she could take off my sock, then my right. She appraised my jockeys and the bulge my cock made.

"Looks promising."

Then she stood and began to unbutton her shirt. I tried to join in but she brushed my hands away, so I crouched and reached for the zipper of her pants and drew them down, slowly. I looked up as I moved to her belt and saw her undoing her shirt cuffs and then shrugging it off. I undid her pants and pushed them down, then stood up.

Now we were facing each other in our underwear, breathing heavily. Her eyes glistened and she licked her lips. Our hands collided as we reached for each other's underpants. She was slightly faster and, as she bent down to pull my jockeys away, I had full access to her bra clip, and I popped it open, then slid the straps off her shoulders.

As she rose from her crouch, she trailed her hands up my thighs and fondled my balls and stroked my cock. I shivered. She took my cockhead in her mouth, then pulled off it with a popping sound, something she clearly thought was fun because she looked straight at me and smiled happily with her eyes.

"You taste good, Carl."

I reached under her arms and pulled her erect, getting my first full view of her slight breasts. They were bigger than tennis balls, about softball sized. The nipples were brown and they stood out.

We grabbed each other again, hip to hip, and kissed fervently. Slowly we slid onto the bed and ground into each other. As if we'd planned it, she slid on top of me just as I swung her up there, and we kissed some more, her chest into mine, she and her panty-clad pussy humping my open-air cock.

The panties had to come off. I slid her off and knelt between her legs. As I tugged at the silky white material she lifted her ass and the panties were in my hands. 

I lifted them to my face and inhaled deeply. "And you smell good, Karen."

I hadn't done this with Margery's panties, just followed her directions. Karen's panties smelled sweet, almost of floral perfume.

Karen scrunched herself toward me so she could reach my cock. As she lifted herself up against it, I had no doubt that I was supposed to enter her. Which I did, first tentatively, then fully. 

"Oh yeah Carl! That's it! Push it in! More! More! Give me all of it!" She humped up against me and our pubic bones crashed together. I pulled back slightly, then rushed back. She wiggled her ass and grabbed me with her thighs, not to stop me but to guide my stroking, so that I knew what she wanted.

In and out I stroked. "You're so hard! So hard! Oh god, it's so nice! So nice!"

My stroking got faster and faster, then became frenzied. I was supporting myself on my hands over her, face-to-face with her as we fucked. She swung her head around, licking her lips, grunting and heaving her hips against me.

"Oh Karen, god, it's so good, your pussy, I'm —" and suddenly I was blasting three days worth of accumulated cum into her. "— cumming! Cumming! Now it's here! Oh god I'm cumming!"

Her humping got even more frenzied as I ejaculated. Even as I ran out of cum and wanted to slow the pace, she kept it up. 

"Don't stop, Carl! Keep going! You're going to make me cum soon! Please god don't let him stop!" 

My cock was hurting and I tried to pull out. Karen clamped her thighs to mine, wrapped her arms around my torso, and refused to let me go. She kept pumping.

"Please, Karen, please! It hurts!" and I struggled to get away from her grasp. Suddenly her orgasm took over and she was thrashing even more against me. I tried to support myself on one hand and pry one of her thighs away with the other, but in so doing I collapsed onto her.

She rolled me off to the side and I was able to get my cock out of her pussy. My cock felt like it had been sandpapered. I couldn't understand what had happened.

She was gasping for breath, one hand under me and the other on her pussy. She was masturbating!

This brought on another orgasm, or maybe kept the first one going. I was aware enough of what was happening to watch as she pushed herself up against her finger, grunting and humping. Finally she came down and lay, relaxed, in a bath of sweat. When she regained her senses she rolled onto her side, facing me.

"God Carl, I'm sorry. It's been a month since I've been fucked. I've been so busy, there was my period, I don't know where the time went. I stopped playing with myself on Tuesday just in anticipation of tonight. I lost control. I apologize."

I nuzzled her breast, tonguing the nipple, and stroked the other nipple with my thumb and forefinger. She sighed contentedly and drifted off.

As she dozed I realized that my cock had stopped hurting. Jeez, when I wasn't able to come just by stroking my cock, I'd sometimes rubbed myself sore, but not like this, and certainly not when I'd come. Is it my fault, for coming too soon, without warning her? Or was she so different from Margery in a way I didn't understand?

I jerked awake when her cell went off. She answered on the second ring and sounded very composed. "Yeah, that's right, but make sure you back up before you mess with the timing. It'd be a disaster if you lost the program! Okay. See ya tomorrow at rehearsal."

Now she was energized. Pulling on her robe, she went down the hall to the bathroom and returned with a wet warm facecloth to clean me and the bed up. It was 10:30 as we snuggled, sitting against the wall at the top of the bed, the pillows at our backs, she leaning into my chest with her head on my shoulder.

"I want to apologize again, Carl. My orgasms aren't always that wild and I have a lot better bed manners than I showed. You have no idea how much I needed your cock! You got me going so well! We can do it slower this time. In fact," she said, "let's play around now."

The hint that there might be more fucking straightened my cock out pretty quickly, but I wasn't sure if I could handle more of what I'd just had.

"I'd like to eat your pussy," I ventured, not knowing for sure what I would have to do. "You sound like you need more orgasms. I can give them to you and I won't risk —" and I stopped, realizing where I was going.

"I won't hurt you any more, I promise," she said, in an abashed tone. "But I do like it when I get head."

"Tell me what you like, I'm a novice at this," I said, choosing what seemed like a better word than "beginner" or "first timer." I slid down to pussy level and she opened her legs, giving me a view of her lips. 

Her pubic hair was a lush, untrimmed brown mass. Now there was a musky scent, at least some of it from the cum that had been lavished on it. She had washed herself pretty well and there was no sign of the light floral scent I got an hour ago from her panties. 

I took what seemed a logical approach; I began to kiss her inner thigh very lightly and brushed my fingers across the chestnut mound. She sighed and her legs relaxed. I continued the kissing and stroking for ten minutes, listening for sounds of arousal or snoring. I slid a finger inside the outer lips, then out, brushing the lightly moist digit all over them, working my way up to the top of her opening, wanting to release her clit. 

Karen shifted and her hand stroked my hair. "That's nice, so nice," she said, dreamily. Encouraged, I brought my mouth to the top of the V of her thighs and kissed as lightly as I could deep to where they joined her torso, just into the hair. Karen moaned and shifted so that she was on her side and her free leg was bent, her heel on the bed, it holding her position. Her pussy was as wide open to me as it could be.

There was a bump where I expected her clitoris to be, so I moved in with my tongue and worked the lips, flicking against the clit hood. I hadn't realized how hard I was going to have to work, but Karen's moaning told me she was responding. As I worked into the skin, I exposed what I guessed was the clit, so I used my finger to shift the skin away, giving my tongue space. Gradually the clit grew until it was a half-inch tube, then a three-quarter-inch tube. Karen's moans were joined by a slight thrusting against my face.

"Am I doing okay?"

"You are, you are, get back to work."

My tongue and neck were getting tired, and it occurred to me that it would be easier if I was kneeling on the floor with her legs were over the edge of the bed. When I tried to move she grabbed my head and held it in place. "You're doin' fine, I'm getting warm, stay with it."

I licked my finger and pushed it into her pussy up to the knuckle. Working it in and out, even as I kept on tonguing her clit, I was getting a response from her: she was pushing against my face, her hands roving strongly through me hair and across my shoulders.

"Oh! Oh! I'm going to cum! I'm cumming Carl! Cumming, oh yes! Oh yes! Ohhhh!" and she clamped her thighs against my head, pinning me in place as she humped against my face. I fluttered my tongue and swirled my finger with no plan, just to keep her going.

As her orgasm subsided and she let me loose, Karen coo'd, "That was so nice. Such sweet loving. Oh my yes." I moved up to her face and licked the sweat from above her lip, then took it between my two lips, and sucked.

"So you want some yourself, eh?" she said. "I'm hot to trot! Roll over and I'll show you a good time!"

She lifted herself up to give me room at the center of the bed. Once in place, with my cock standing up, she settled her hips on my thighs and leaned into me. We tongue-wrestled, she pushed her pussy hard against my cock and gyrated her hips. I took her ass cheeks in my hands and squeezed them, at first softly but as I got going my hands began to pull her to me.

"Ride me Karen, get up in the saddle," I heard myself say.

"I've made you that hot already? You gotta develop patience. But okay," and she lifted herself onto my cock. After a couple of strokes she held herself at the tip of my cock and then stopped, with the head just inside the inner lips. I felt a tightening as her muscles contracted, then relaxed, then contracted again.

"I'm gonna fuck you just like this!" she said. I couldn't imagine she could hold herself that way for very long, and I certainly wasn't ready to cum, so I arched my back and shoved into her. Her muscles weren't able to resist my thrust and I was back in, but I couldn't hold myself up that long either. I grabbed her hips and we landed on the bed. 

"You are in too much of a hurry! Let me do you slowly, Carl, like you did me. I promise you'll like it. Okay?"

Fucking should be fast and furious. What is she up to? Why can't we do what I want to do? Am I some sort of wimp for letting her do this to me?

"Yeah, okay, you're right, I can be more patient. But I love being inside you, it feels so warm."

"Good. You'll get yours, that I promise you. Now relax and let me do the work."

She lay beside me and took my cock in her mouth, just lightly sucking and tonguing. She stroked my balls with an equally light touch, then shifted her face into my crotch and took one of my balls into her mouth and tongued it. She was stroking my cock with wetted fingers, softly up and down, not trying to excite me, just letting me know she hadn't forgotten it. She sucked the second ball into her mouth and I tensed, afraid of — what? She was going to bite them off? Stupid thought. 

"Oh that is nice," I said, not really meaning it, but it did feel nice. She popped first one, then the other testicle out of her mouth, cleaning the saliva off, then moved again to my cock, taking it almost fully into her mouth. Her throat closed around the head and her tongue worked the bottom of my shaft. I started to get excited and reached for her hair, to stroke her and encourage her.

Slowly she pulled off my cock, leaving it wet. Since I had a pillow under my head I could see it emerge from her mouth and saw it glistening. "God I love that feeling. Can we keep going?"

"Don't be impatient, I know where we're going," she said softly.

Now she was straddling me, with my hard wet cock between her legs, up against her chestnut hairy mound. She rose up and down so that the hairs just slightly stoked the cockhead. I stopped myself even as I wanted to reach out and pull her onto me.

At the top of an upstroke, Karen shifted slightly and the cockhead was completely inside her. As before, she rose up and flexed her muscles on it, then relaxed and slid down so that more of my cock was inside her. Again she lifted up, and this time she stayed on the cockhead alone, grasping and releasing it with her muscles. I didn't dare thrust this time, all I could do with my hands was caress her thighs at the knees.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 02



With the cockhead fully in her grasp, she slowly twisted her hips in a motion that seemed to me to resemble the unscrewing a cap from a bottle. Back and forth she twisted, then settled down, then came back to the top. 

I saw that she was watching my face, looking for signs of my arousal. And I was getting there. I can't believe I'm in her but I'm not humping. I don't feel like I'm going to cum. It's not that she won't let me, I somehow don't feel the need. She's taking me somewhere.

She brought me close a couple of times, but each time she slid down on me and lay still. When I subsided she started up again. This must have gone on for half an hour, I couldn't tell, but I never lost my erection.

"Do you like being fucked this way, Carl?"

"Am I being fucked? Yes, I guess I am, but it's so different. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yeah, I am. It's so soft, so easy. You're staying hard, I'm staying wet, we're together."

The next time she settled down on me I didn't calm down. Instead I began to push into her. I wanted my release. 

"Karen, I want to cum. Can we do it, together? Are you ready?"

"I've been ready all along, just holding off until you were. I'll do it slowly but we won't stop this time."

She rode me slowly, oh so slowly. When she got to the top she squeezed me but then came down and squeezed the bottom of my shaft. The next time at the top I pushed up and got fully inside her, then we settled down on the bed and we pushed hard against each other. Soon we were fully fucking, deep thrusts meeting each other.

"Make me cum, Carl! Oh yeah, I feel you! So deep, so deep! I'm gonna squeeze you dry! Fuck me hard, oh god it's so good, oooooh yessssss! Aaaargh! O GOD I'M CUMMING!" and she erupted in a frenzy on my cock, up and down and around, meeting my thrusts with hard ones of her own.

"I'm cumming! Karen, here I cum! Take it all! O god yes, yes, here I cum!"

She slumped onto me and I wrapped my arms around her. As I got soft we turned and faced each other, our breathing now quiet. And we fell asleep.

Her alarm buzzed at 7:30. I blinked my eyes at the unaccustomed colors and felt Karen stir next to me. As I shifted to look at her, I felt the dried cum crinkle on my pubic hair and belly. She reached for the snooze button and I reached for her.

"Men!" she said, in mock horror. "You don't think of anything else," and she reached for my cock. "Man, this is crusty. We gotta clean up! You willing to brazen it out down the hall?"

This time last year I'd see girls in bathrobes in the shower room. I would blush as I pulled the curtain back, naked as I was, reaching for my towel. They'd smile, flash their tits at me as they hung up their robes, then they'd disappear into the stalls and the steamy water as though it was a normal part of dormitory life. Should I smile and flash my dangling cock at them?

Sure, if it won't embarrass you."

"Nope, it's pretty common around here."

The scanty robe she handed me barely covered my apparatus, so I wrapped the towel around my waist and we sauntered to the showers. There were three girls washing their faces as we entered and I saw them in the cloudy mirror. I thought they had appreciative expressions.

We showered together, quickly. When we came out of the stall the room was empty, so we were able to towel dry each other without interruption. As we finished we heard the door open so we reached for our robes. Karen greeted the RA, who grinned at her, and we went back to her room.

"Are you gonna get in trouble for that?" I asked.

Not unless they're gonna punish every girl on the floor! No, she was probably just checking you out."

I wanted to go again, so I pulled Karen to me and pushed my hardening cock against her pussy. "You are a fuck machine, Carl, you really are, and I like that. But I have to be at rehearsal at nine, so we barely have time for breakfast. Some other time."

"How about tonight?"

"I have a date, to tell you the truth."

We dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. There we met two of the girls from the shower room. Karen introduced me as "Carl, a good friend of mine," and they smiled lasciviously.



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 03



This Sunday party was very different from the last one. Actually, it was pretty much the same party, but my reaction wasn't the same. Last week I was there as a virgin in every respect: new member and never been laid. 

Last week I had no idea what to expect. Today I had been to bed with two club members and found not only did I like fucking but that I could please a woman. Tuesday night it was Margery and Friday night it was Karen.

My roommate Pete, my sponsor into the club, wasn't in the apartment when I came to get my books for my Saturday morning classes, and he didn't come home that night. He'd told me he had a Saturday date, so I wasn't surprised. I got up early on Sunday to study in the library and went directly to the club meeting from there. As I came through the front door, I spotted him in an animated conversation with Karen. 

Oh god, she's telling him all about my inadequacies Friday night and making fun of how I didn't last very long. He'll really think I'm a dork.

"Yo! Carl! Over here," he called, waving me to join them. Karen kissed me chastely on the cheek and Pete continued. "Karen has four tickets for Hair, the show she's working on. House seats. Wanna double-date?"

Karen smiled. "It's really the dress rehearsal, but everything will be in place. Friday's the opening, these tickets are for Thursday. They're very good seats."

"Sure, that sounds like fun. Thanks, Karen."

"That is one focused woman," said Pete as Karen moved off to join some other friends.

"That's for sure," I parried, not knowing if Pete was fishing for information about her and her ways in bed. When he said "Everybody who's dated her says that. We've been out a couple of times." I relaxed.

There had to be thirty people in the house by three, which was the deadline for the women to post their tokens of availability on the date board. Many stayed on after posting, either to watch the run-up to March Madness on the big-screen or to socialize. After three it was the men's time to browse the board for dates. Pete had told me it wasn't cool to rush to the board, which was in the kitchen, and anyway there was only room for two or three people to stand there.

Just before three Margery rushed through the front door and headed straight to the kitchen. A few minutes later, while I was hollering at the referee on the big-screen, she came over and sat down next to me.

"Hey Carl, nice to see you. And thank you so much for the prints." We chatted for a few minutes, then she said, "There's someone I want you to meet."

She led me to a table where four girls and a guy were deep in conversation. "Hey Cindy, I want you to meet someone."

A tall, raven-haired girl stood up.

"Carl, this is Cindy. Cindy, Carl."

Margery moved on and I sat next to Cindy. Soon I was involved in their conversation, which was over "History of Science," a course I had taken fall semester. I'd done well enough but hadn't retained much.

Cindy was disdainful of the graduate students who ran the sections and in particular she disliked the one who ran her section.

"It's really too bad that Professor Schmee doesn't make sure the grad students reinforce what she's teaching," she said. "These guys act like they're the professor and wander into subjects that she hasn't covered or handled a week ago. My section leader is a real jerk. If you're going to take this course, find out who's your section leader and transfer if it's him."

She had the same section leader I had had. I told them that the only reason I'd even gone was for attendance purposes and that this guy ignored the syllabus and handed out his left-wing opinions like they were gospel. When the subject changed, I asked Cindy if she wanted to get some coffee, and we moved to the living room.

"Margery the matchmaker?" I teased.

"She lives down the hall. In fact, she was my reference for joining the club. I've only been on campus since the semester started, when I transferred from community college. I've only been a member for two weeks."

"I didn't know the university took mid-year transfers."

"I had really good grades and they're buying out people with single rooms and turning them into doubles, so they had space."

We talked some more about how she was settling in. Seizing the opportunity for a real date, not a structured encounter, I said, "Hey, are you free on Thursday? I've got an extra ticket to the dress rehearsal of Hair that they're doing at the Carpenter."

"Sounds like fun. Uh, I'll have to find out."

"Huh?"

"Token board. I put mine on Friday and Saturday."

While Cindy's Saturday token was covered, her Friday token was uncovered. She moved it to Thursday and I covered it. I'd figured on a weekend date and maybe one during the week, so Thursday was fine. But I felt awkward checking out the board for a weekend date in front of Cindy

Actually, maybe I don't need to go out this weekend. Midterms start on Monday. I need to do well on two of them to keep up my B average. My social life is messing up my concentration. But at least I'm not going broke on the dating scene: Dutch treat means dating costs no more than eating alone. And the sex is much better.

*

The dress rehearsal was scheduled for seven-thirty. Cindy and I agreed to meet at the student union mailboxes at five. As she walked in, her shoulder-length hair was set off with a pink blouse and a plaid skirt. Her calf-high boots finished an attractive package, even if the whole thing was buried in a quilted parka against the end-of-winter cold outside.

"Let's eat at this Indian place I've heard about," she said. I didn't know whether she meant India Indian or Cherokee and normally wouldn't have considered either, but what the heck. I hadn't noticed such a place in the union. 

"It's downtown. We oughta get started, it's probably half-a-mile from here."

As we walked, Cindy explained she her interest. "We lived in Mumbai for two years when I was starting high school. My father was the private pilot for a big international construction company. Five years ago, as they were landing in Indiana, the plane hit some unexpected turbulence and the president of the company was thrown against the interior, hard.

"He was bruised but not injured. Two days later, though, he collapsed and died of a heart attack. His wife blamed my father and he lost his job. We were pretty strapped until a pilot friend introduced dad to an Indian industrialist who needed a pilot. So all of a sudden we moved to Mumbai."

The spicy smell of the restaurant's foyer and the heavy decorations startled me. We were early enough that we got a spacious table. Cindy ordered for us and told the waiter we wanted separate checks. I had put my camera on the table as soon as we were seated and as we surfed the appetizer buffet I snapped several pictures of the breads and the wait staff, who probably thought I was weird.

The dinner was delicious, even if I'd never experienced anything like it. Cindy's entrée was a red chicken while mine was a slightly spicy vegetarian dish. The numerous breads were delicious. We swapped plates and I took some more pictures, this time including her. She had a lovely expression as she forked food into her mouth. 

"Was it easy living in India? It seems like the poverty, particularly what I've read about in Mumbai, would be depressing."

"We lived in a big foreigners' compound, but still, we saw a lot of it. We had three servants who would sometimes take my sister Ann and me with them to their homes. Their lives were okay, but the areas where they lived were pretty bad.

"The school in the compound was a traditional English school. Ann and I did really well so that, when we got back to the States, our two years away allowed Ann to skip her freshman year and enter the university as a sophomore. 

"My parents couldn't afford to have both of us here at the same time, so I had to go to community college till Ann finished. She graduated last year. 

"I'd skipped half my junior year in high school because of the Mumbai classes and was taking AP classes at CC, so I finished there after three semesters and came here. Technically I'm a second-semester junior."

I was jolted at the price of the meal, which was more than I'd ever spent on dinner in my life. Even splitting the check was pricey. 

We had to hustle to get to the Carpenter a few minutes before the curtain. Our seats were third-row, center. Pete was already there and he introduced us to Marney, who I recognized from the club.

The show was excellent. I'd seen the movie on TV a couple of years ago but this was much more intense. The production was lavish and the actors must have been picked for their stamina because they were in constant motion. Karen must have been in constant motion too, with all the lighting changes and scenery.

Afterward the four of us went backstage and Karen introduced us to the cast. She was soaked in perspiration (but not as much as she was on Friday night) and was elated at how well things had gone. 

Pete, Marney, Cindy, and I went for coffee in the student union. It was nearly nine-thirty when they said it was getting late and left.

My apartment was slightly further away than Cindy's dorm, but she had a roommate and I didn't, at least not for the evening, so we went there. As we climbed the stairs I realized I had no idea how to transition us into bed.

I hung our coats on the closet-door hook. When I turned around she was holding on to the door frame and levering her left boot off with the toe of her right boot.

"Let me," I said, with more savoir-faire that I felt. I knelt and pulled the boot off. When we removed her right boot, I held her foot and rolled her sock off, then kissed her instep. She'd been balancing with her hand on my shoulder and I felt her tremble. When she made a tentative move to pull away, I resisted and she relaxed. A furtive look up her skirt showed white panties.

"Can I take your other sock off too?" I asked.

"Sure, fair and balanced," she replied. She signed contentedly as I rolled it off and kissed that instep.

I stood and pulled her to me. At first our kissing was tentative but she rubbed her leg against mine. When we broke off I took her hand and led her to my bedroom door, opened it, and gestured her inside. I flipped the lock and turned to see her standing by my bed, looking awkward. I undid my tie and draped it and my jacket on the back of my desk chair.

"Will you take my shoes off, Cindy?" I asked. She nodded, squatted, undid the laces, and pulled both the socks and the sneakers off. I held her shoulder for balance and caressed the bra strap.

She paired the sneakers and slid them under the desk, then stood. I was nervous and she looked even more nervous. We sat on the bed. 

"How did you hear about the club?"

"Ann told me about it. A grad student introduced her. When she and her boyfriend broke up early in her junior year, the experience absolutely unhinged her. She started doing wild things and nearly flunked out. The grad student saved her from who knows what."

As she was taking I moved thigh-to-thigh with her and caught her smell. Not her "scent" because there wasn't any. She smelled like nothing I'd ever experienced. It was pure clean, as if she had washed in an odorless bath. As she finished telling me about her sister, I saw that she was comfortable enough for me to move forward.

I reached for her head and planted a kiss on her lips, getting another dose of utter clean, this time from her hair. She lay back and we kissed fervently. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and she responded, tentatively at first, but then she got into it and we tongue-wrestled.

She willingly rolled on top of me and I felt her breasts on my chest. I ran a bare foot against hers and she wiggled her hips against mine.

I ran my hands up her legs and under her skirt. When I squeezed her ass cheeks through her panties, she ground against my hard cock. Now I wanted to have her all.

"Let's get naked, Cindy," I said, between breaths.

"I thought you'd never ask," she breathily replied.

We stood and she spun her skirt around, dropped the zipper and popped the button, then pushed it and her panties down to the floor to reveal her bush. Like the hair on her head, it was raven black and her pussy lips were almost masked by its abundance. But they were clearly wet. I saw all this because, as I shed my shirt and undershirt without looking at them, I was concentrating on how she revealed her body.

"Let me uncover the rest of you," I said.

"That'd be nice, but I want to free your cock first," and she grabbed the zipper of my slacks. Since I wear jockeys there was no chance my cock would jump out, but she got a good feel anyway. She quickly unhooked my belt, popped the button, and effortlessly slid my slacks and jockeys down. As I stepped out of them she gave me an appraising look and licked her lips.

I fondled her breasts through her blouse, finding that they were firm and encased in a harder-than-I-expected bra. I opened each button slowly and inhaled that smell. When her cleavage was revealed I kissed the available skin and slowly moved my fingers under the back of her blouse, fumbling to open her bra.

As the clasp released, Cindy shrugged off the blouse and I drew the bra forward to completely reveal her chest. Her breasts were the largest I'd seen so far, each one a big handful, but firm. I bent to take the nipple of her left breast into my mouth and I lightly thumbed the other nipple. She murmured "ummmm" as I worked the nipples.

I wanted to see her entire body, so I pulled off her nipple with an exaggerated "pop" and took a step backward. As I framed an all-body photo of her with my hands in front of my face she instinctively covered her pussy with both hands.

"I have never seen hair so black as yours," I said. "Later let me take a picture of you, just like this. You're really lovely."

Her defensive expression softened and she let her arms drop. Now she was energized and she stepped against me. She grabbed my head in her left hand to pull my mouth to hers. Her bush engrossed my cock. When we broke off the kiss we tumbled onto the bed.

"Any idea what you'd like to do?" I teased. 

"Yes, I want you to fuck my brains out, except it's a weeknight and I can't do it more than twenty times because I have a class at five o'clock." I gulped, then realized she was teasing right back.

"I'll try to keep up." I slid down and stuck my face in her pussy, smelling the same odorless clean as everywhere else. Her wetness was obvious and I began to lick.

"Oh don't, please, I want to fuck, right now," she called. 

"You'll get a better fuck if you'll let me get you started this way," I responded.

"You're a pussy teaser," she purred, then pulled me up to her face by my hair. "Fuck me, now," she commanded.

She sighed as I sank my saliva-moistened cock into her pussy. She was wet and very enthusiastic. As I started my thrusting she wrapped her legs around my ass and pulled me hard into her, quickly setting a torrid pace. At first I had to work to keep up with her but I caught on soon enough.

"Oh god, it's now! Fuck me Carl! FUCK ME, DO IT HARD! HARD! Push it in me! More! More!" She thrashed against me and jerked her head around. Her tongue jutted out and she worked my shoulders hard with her hands as her heels pulled my buttocks into her. 

Her orgasm summoned mine. 'You've got me! Oh god I'm cumming! Cumming! Cumming!" and I pumped what felt like a tanker-truckload of cum into her. 

We settled into each other's arms and rolled to face each other. This post-fucking position gave me the chance to sniff her again and now the smell was of the sweat, lovely female sweat that glistened from her face and chest and belly. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth and kissed her forehead, then her lips, down, down between her breasts, and finally in circles around her belly. 

"One down, nineteen to go," I said, and patted her hip.

She kissed me. "You're sweet. Let's clean up and see what develops."

She cupped her pussy to catch the cum as I led her to the bathroom. My warm washcloth took on a surprising amount of cum and needed rinsing out before it could complete cleaning us both.

Back in my room I took my camera and sat on the end of the bed.

"I want to take your picture."

"So you can post it on your Facebook page? I don't think so," she said firmly, extended her open hand toward the lens.

"I would never do that! I don't want to embarrass you. Hey, there's a red bandana in my top dresser drawer," I said. "Roll it up and tie it over your eyes." 

"Now you're anonymous," I said when she had the bandana in place. She flipped the small triangular end and smiled wickedly.

First I asked her to stand against the desk. "Cross you arms on your chest, I want you to come close to hiding your breasts, but not completely. Let the nipples show." 

"Now cup them. Oh yeah that's sexy." 

"Put you left foot up on the chair and turn slightly to me. Show me everything. Smile!" 

"Now your right foot. There, that's good." 

"Face me, put your hands on your hips, take a wide stance. Oh yeah!" 

I took three or four shots of each pose and a couple more from behind her, below, to catch the bottom of her pussy. I made sure to bracket the light every time so that the raven black of her hair would show.

"Can I take some of you?" she asked, offering the bandana, which I declined.

"You're the one with the attributes. I'm not beefcake, Cindy."

"I want a souvenir photo of you and your apparatus. Stand still." And she took a dozen shots from various angles.

The lasciviousness of this session was getting to me, and my cock was starting to return to straight as the flash popped. At one point she flicked the cockhead, which caused it to spasm upward. The rapid-fire shutter sound was a turn-on.

"Okay, done. We'll download them tomorrow and send a set to me. Now let's put Mr. Johnson here back to work."

We flopped on the bed and, as we kissed, I realized that the clean smell was completely gone, replaced by the more familiar scent of sex and sweat. When we broke for breath I moved behind her so that I could spoon, sliding my cock through her legs and running my finger from her throat to her navel. She pressed against me and stroked my cockhead between her legs ever so softly as I played with her breasts.

Cindy lifted her top leg and reached to guide me to the right position. I slid part way inside her and began to move.

It was awkward for us both, particularly for Cindy as she couldn't keep her leg up for long. "Maybe we should do it on all fours," I ventured.

"Thank you. Yes, I couldn't keep that up," she said, and set herself up, with her head on both pillows and her ass in the air. I reached for her clit as I slid into her and found a bump under the hood. As I slowly stroked in and out I played with the bump and it began to grow and push aside its hood. 

Cindy's murmurs of pleasure grew to moans of pleasure, which yielded to commands. "Feels so good, feels so good" became "oh yeah, that's sooooooo good" and then "More! Faster!" The sound of my belly slapping against her ass was pulling the cum from my balls and I was fighting to hold off.

"You're too good, Cindy! I'm gonna cum soon, real soon."

"You'll be in second place! Oh god, I'm — yesssssss, I'm cumming! Don't stop! Flick that clit! Oooooh yessssssss!"

Her ass banged with a fierce insistence against my belly as I slammed and slammed against her. She swung it in every direction and I started cumming on a back stroke, I was so excited. I pushed hard to get it all inside her, then pumped and pumped again to get it done. When we collapsed it was because we were both completely drained.

"Can you stay, Cindy?"




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 03



"You'd have to carry me out on a stretcher." We nuzzled and fell asleep.

*

Dawn was filtering through the curtains when I woke to an empty bed. I must have heard the flush because Cindy was emerging from the bathroom as I looked out the bedroom door. "Okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine, just settling up with dinner."

I cleaned the bed with my undershirt and we nestled against the headboard, our backs propped up by the pillows. I surprised myself by wanting to talk, not fuck.

"We shouldn't have gone to that restaurant. I didn't realize it would cost so much."

"Carl, I wanted to go there. The food reminds me of the good times." She inhaled, then sighed.

"We lived really well in Mumbai. Ann and I had a lot of fun, real adventures. Ann was a senior our last year there and I was a mere sophomore.

"She went out with a guy who boarded at the school. After a while they were able to sneak up to his room a couple of times a week, first to make out but pretty soon they started fucking. She told me how much fun it was and got me really interested. I was afraid of getting caught with any of the other boarders, but I did date a couple of them and got to know what kissing was about.

"Our cook had a son, Ashok, who sometimes came to our house to visit his mother and help out. He was twenty and he was gorgeous! I fell for him totally. We would sit in the kitchen and talk for hours, about everything. Gradually I started to think of him as more than cook's son.

"One Sunday, when everyone else was away, it was just me and cook. I felt like I ruled the house as I sat at my father's place at the dining table. Ashok came in with the breakfast tray, surprising me. He was substituting for the server and brought the tea and eggs. As he stood beside me placing the plates on the table, I reached down and stroked his leg. He tensed and I moved my hand to the inside of his thigh.

'Missy, you shouldn't, it is forbidden.'

'I'm just being friendly, Ashok,' I said. 'Can you bring the breakfast to the porch?'

"There was a large enclosed porch on the second floor, at the end of the hall where Ann's and my bedrooms were."

'Yes, Missy, of course.'

'Good. I will be there in five minutes.' 

"I had planned on studying all weekend but now there was sometime far more interesting. I liked Ashok, 'fancied' him as the English say, and wanted to kiss him to see what it was like. 

"When he arrived I was on the couch in my sweatshirt and cutoffs, just as I was in the dining room. But now I positioned myself so he could see my legs and my cutoffs as he came into the room."

'Shall I fetch a table, Missy?'

'That would be nice, Ashok.'

"There was a side table that was just the right height for eating at the couch, and he brought it over while balancing the breakfast tray in his other hand. He placed the table before me, then moved to the side and slid the tray onto it. He was perfectly placed for another feel, and I took advantage of the front of his pants.

"This time he shuddered and leaned away. 'Sit down with me, Ashok,' I sort of commanded."

'No, please Missy, eat breakfast. I will wait.' He stepped back so that I would have had to turn around to see him, and I knew that to do so would be a real violation of servant protocol. 

"So I ate my eggs and drank my tea, slowly. As I lifted the linen napkin to my lips, Ashok reappeared and reached for the tray."

'Now can you sit?' I asked, trying to sound like I was ordering him.

"He sat as far away from me on the couch as he could, but since I was more or less in the middle he wasn't out of reach. I pushed the table away with my foot, folded my legs under me, and turned to him. 'Ashok, come here and kiss me.' "

"And he did! He kissed better than the English boys and took my head in his hands, something they never did. I was swept away. When we broke for air he dropped his hands and leaned back, but he couldn't get very far. I saw the tent in his pants, a sure sign, Ann had told me, that he was interested.

'That was nice. Do it again, but come closer,' I commanded.

"He slid against my knees and moved his mouth onto mine. This time there was a forcefulness in his kissing. His tongue levered my teeth open and found my tongue, which hadn't been doing anything. I kissed him back as hard as I could in my weakened state and put my hand on his erection. He shivered.

'Come with me,' I breathed as I stood up, and held out my hand. He stood as well and I saw fear in his eyes. 'Missy, this could go very badly for my mother, please don't make me,' he said."

'There will not be any trouble, everything will be fine. Come with me.'

"I led him into my bedroom. When I had locked the door and turned to him, his eyes were wide with fear. 'Please promise that my mother will stay. You must swear,' he begged.

'Yes, and you must too. Now kiss me again, hold me tight.'

"And he did! It was glorious. I took him to my bed and got rid of my virginity. 

"When it was over he took the breakfast tray and I went to the pool. After my swim I went to the kitchen to discuss lunch. 

"Cook was plainly nervous, but of course she said nothing. 'Can Ashok bring lunch to the porch?' I asked.

'He is gone away, Missy. Your parents called and said they will be back at five for dinner. What may I prepare for your lunch?'

"Ashok did come back, probably because I pestered his mother unmercifully about it, and we got together maybe once a month for the next eight months. After one particularly wild afternoon I got careless about hiding the condom and my mother found it late that afternoon.

"She freaked out. 'You're barely 16! We raised you better than this! WHO IS THE BOY?' We fought the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Finally I made up a story about one of the super-rich-guy day students so that she couldn't make a stink. She lectured me about pregnancy and STDs. Finally I thought I had gotten to her and tried to move forward.

" 'Mom, the genie's out of the bottle. Shouldn't I be on the pill?' "

"She came this close to hitting me. 'You are so grounded! If I could lock you up I would. No! Never!' I should have let well enough alone.

"The last time I saw Ashok was in the kitchen, when his mother announced that he was going away to another university. When we left Mumbai, my parents, not knowing about us, gave him and his mother a tip equal to six months' wages.

"We came back to the states near the end of my junior year. That fall, Ann started here as a sophomore engineering student and I was in lockdown. I had to take the bus home immediately after school. I could date but she drove, every time. If she gave me permission to stay for a club or something, I had to keep my cell on and she tracked me on a cell locator. 

"So I was celibate until I went to CC. Of course I was living at home, but at least I could hang out between classes. Then mom had to get a job and didn't get home till five-thirty, so I could mess around, particularly on days when I had only one class. 

"When I had started with Ashok, of course I didn't want anyone to know. But Ann figured it out pretty quickly. She made sure we were using condoms and she told me all sorts of intimate stuff about fucking. When Ashok brought an oversized paperback copy of the Kama Sutra, we pored through it and she made a photocopy for herself. 

"When I finished CC, Ann gave me a 'graduation present': she told me about the club and Ruth about me. After I got settled in the dorm and got my studies under control, I called Ruth. She invited 'Ann's little sister' over for lunch. I joined the week before you did. 

"You're my second date."

By now it was seven and we had to start our day. We nearly fucked in the shower but I settled for a handjob. Cindy needed to get back to her dorm for her books and appropriate clothes for her nine o'clock class.

"Stay for breakfast. You like Cheerios?" We were just starting when Pete came in.

"Hi there. This is soooo domestic," he teased.

"Yeah, and you look soooo hammered," I teased back as Cindy giggled.

"Wages of sin. Hope you two didn't use up all the hot water," and he ambled off to his room.

Cindy was almost out the door when she remembered the photos. I quickly downloaded them and emailed them to her. She watched every step like a hawk. Afterward, she kissed me and squeezed my cock through my pants. 

I considered it a friendly gesture. 

*

My mid-term exams did not go well. They had started the Monday after my Thursday date with Cindy and by Tuesday afternoon I was done. I had some foreboding and waited anxiously for the grades to be posted, which were finally up by Thursday afternoon. 

In the two courses where I wanted at least a B, I got C's. In the other two, I got B's when I expected A's.

I had to be honest: my new-found love life was having an impact, and not a good one, on my studying. Up to now my non-academic focus had been photographing life in this very large university town. I would lurk around and snap dozens, even hundreds, of photos. "Real life" stuff, like Walker Evans and Margaret Bourke-White. Cropping, photoshopping, sorting, and storing them was my nerdy obsession.

Studying had also been a solitary pursuit, so I got a lot of it done. As a result, I was maintaining, even improving, a solid B average in a competitive university.

Not now. Two B's and two C's heading into the homestretch was not good. 

I had planned to spend the two-week spring break in Mississippi with a church group, rebuilding houses in areas still devastated by Hurricane Katrina. But the shock of my low grades hit me hard. I checked with the two "C" professors and got the same answer: "You've not mastered the material."

So I cancelled the trip, to stay and study. I discovered that the university was offering part-time jobs doing maintenance during the break and I signed up. At $10 an hour I could bank $320 for two days a week for the two weeks. Plus they offered free lunch and dinner in the staff cafeteria. I didn't really need the money but I figured I'd go crazy if all I did was study while no one I knew was around.

*

I was surprised to find Cindy at the club when I arrived. Most of the members had already left campus, since Friday was the last day of mid-terms. The few stragglers were just dropping in or were getting ready to leave. There were no tokens on the board.

"You haven't left for Mississippi yet?" Cindy asked, reminding me that I had told her about my plans at the Indian restaurant.

"No. I bombed my exams pretty bad, so I've decided to stay in town and study. What are you going to do?"

"Not much. I can't afford to go anywhere and they're closing the dorms after tonight, so I'll go home. It's only four hours away. Mom's got a second job working at McDonalds on the night shift, so maybe I can catch on there and pick up some extra money. I can also get ahead on my physics courses."

"Did you see the ad for maintenance work here, at the university? Bet they're paying better than Mickey D."

"Oh they are, a lot more, but I don't have a place to stay."

The light-bulb went on.

"You could stay with me. Pete's already left for Florida. I got one of the maintenance jobs myself and I know they're still looking."

"You'll be working and studying?"

"Sure. I did it my senior year. I worked in the local library two nights a week right after school till closing. And I still had time to take pictures and got good enough grades to come here."

"Carl, it's a really tempting offer. I'll go over to the office and see what they have. I'll call you."

Is this particularly smart? We could sleep in separate beds and just be co-workers. Yeah, sure. YOU NEED TO STUDY! Maybe the attraction's only one-way. Then why did she move her token when you offered the ticket to Hair? You didn't make her move it, she did that herself. Focus, man, focus.

*

My cell rang not three hours later. "They hired me! I'm even gonna be a forewoman! $12 an hour for two forty-hour weeks!"

"Beats minimum wage, that's for sure. But how did you get hired on a Sunday?"

"No point in waiting around. I went to the office and the boss was working late. I start tomorrow. Can I bring some stuff over?"

I called Pete to see if it was okay for Cindy to sleep in his room. "Sure, no problem," he said. "You know where my extra sheets are. Just tidy up before I get back, okay?"

*

Pete had left his desk bare, so Cindy put her suitcase there. She hung a couple pairs of slacks and a dress in the closet. She brought her own pillow and some pictures of her family. Within twenty minutes she had made her bed and we were roommates.

"What're the house rules, Carl?"

"We have separate shelves in the fridge and our own cabinet for other food. This is my week to clean the bathroom and vacuum the living room, yours will be next week. And —" I paused dramatically, "no wild parties."

"Hah!" she snorted. "Likely we'll both be wrecked by the end of the day."

I kissed her and quickly we were in a torrid embrace. I rolled her T-shirt over her head and hungrily freed her breasts. Bare-chested, Cindy knelt and pulled my slippers off and ran her hands up my legs to my crotch, where she copped a good feel and unzipped me. Down came my pants and jockeys in one swoop.

"Bare tits and rampant cock, not bad for starters, eh?" she said. 

It was my turn to kneel and undo her sneakers and roll her socks into them. She balanced herself on my shoulder as I yanked the zipper open and then pulled her pants and undies off. I stood, breathing hard, and pushed into her for more kissing.

"Damn shirt!" And off it came.

We crashed onto her bed, with me on top. "Fuck me Carl," she urged.

"Can't we —"

"Later! I want you now. Fuck me Carl!" she commanded.

I licked my fingers and moistened my cock, then positioned myself. She grabbed it and slid herself onto it. "There! Ride me, oh dear god ride me, I want all of you!"

We thrashed together furiously. It had been ten days of non-stop masturbation for me and I was ready for the real thing. Cindy swung her hips around wildly as she clung to my back, leveraging herself with her feet planted solidly on the bed. In and out I plunged, again and again.

"Don't hold off! Cum as fast as you can! Oh how much I want your cum! Bang me hard Carl!" Then "Oh yeah, here I go, I'm cumming, you're so good, ride me, ride my pussy!" Hr eyes were wild, her jaw was slack and small bits of spit flew.

"You're going to get all of me! Now I'm cumming! Here it is! Oh god, it's so much," and I poured everything I had into her.

As we snuggled and we felt my cock soften and slide out, I searched for her clean odor. There was only a small remnant, probably because she was coated in sweat, a small pool of which had collected in her navel. I shifted and slid down to lap at it.

"Let it go, I can't take any more," she said, but I wanted this. She hadn't let me use my mouth on her and I wanted to do it. I licked between her breasts and worked slowly down to her navel. When I arrived the pool was drying up but there was still enough to get a taste of her.

"Umm salt, my favorite," I said. 

"Umm fucking, my favorite," she said dreamily as she stroked my hair.

I wanted to do more but she sat up. "It's getting late, we have to be at work at eight. Let's clean up." She cupped her pussy and we went to the bathroom to clean each other. I took the washcloth and headed for her bed to swab the sheets.

When I came back from the bathroom Cindy was under the covers. I slid in beside her and reached down to nibble her breasts.

"Tomorrow, please, this has been one long day," she said. She drifted off and, after the couple of minutes I spent savoring what had just happened, so did I.

*

It was six as I softly pulled the blanket and sheet off her and was gazing lustily at her beautiful raven-haired pussy when she drowsily reached out to pull the covers back. 

"Chilly," she said, sleepily.

"I'll warm you up," I volunteered.

"And we'll both be late for our first day. C'mon, get another forty winks."

*

The work was easy enough, but there was a lot of it. We had to wash every window, inside and out; vacuum every room but not disturb whatever piles were on the floor; and really clean the common rooms, bathrooms, and halls. The university was on a light-bulb-replacement kick and we had to remove every incandescent bulb and screw in new CFLs. There were specialists who stripped and waxed the floors and painters who touched up the walls and doors. 

Cindy showed up around eleven with a clipboard and checklist for our three-man crew. She was all business in bib overalls. Her hair was tied up with a red bandana. 

"You guys are a suite ahead of schedule. Don't forget to fill out the form for the painters about what needs to be done in each room and tape it to the hall door. See you later." She smiled at me but kept her distance, giving no indication that we knew each other. 

At lunch I saw her sitting with what I assumed was her boss and two other guys with clipboards. I was early for dinner and didn't see her there either.

*

Since my work schedule was Monday and Thursday, I was looking for a repeat of the night before when Cindy came through the door at six-thirty. I'd showered, had my robe on, and was watching television. 

"A man of leisure, I see," she said.

"We have all night. We've already had dinner. There's nothing we have to do. Just like —"

"Carl," she said, sitting down on the couch and fixing me with a stern look, "this is only going to work if we respect each other's boundaries. You know how much I like to fuck, but I told you I wanted to get ahead on my physics courses. And you need to re-do your classes to get where you want to be.

"The money this job pays will really help my situation. Books are murder in the sciences. If I'm tired when I get to work I won't be doing the job right. We've got the weekend to enjoy ourselves." She kissed me on the lips and headed for her room to shed her work clothes.

She emerged a few minutes later, naked, and headed to the bathroom with her towel, toilet kit, and a bar of soap. I'd been put in my place. Which was my own bed.

Yeah, I did say I was going to study, study hard. But this is too much. We fucked pretty good last night and I want more. I'm giving her a free room, where's the gratitude? YO CARL, DID YOU HEAR WHAT YOU JUST SAID? Snap out of it, man! This is how the world is, she understands it better than you do.

*

I spent Tuesday in the library. My plan was to re-read all the material in all four courses. I started with one where I'd gotten a "C." I had to force myself to re-read stuff I'd already read, but obviously I hadn't absorbed it the first time around. I worked straight through lunch and finished reading the first half around four-thirty, checking my notes from class as I went through the books. I decided to give myself a treat and hiked into town for some picture-taking, this time at the bus station. I ate there and got back to the apartment around seven.

Cindy was in the shower, singing up a storm. Beatles songs, mostly. She had a good voice and certainly knew the words. She seemed pleased to see me when she emerged, naked, from the bathroom.

"Hi! How'd your day go?"

"It's easier the second time around. I can't believe I bombed that exam. Everything so far is in my notes and they match up with the texts. And I got some great shots at the bus station. How'd you do?"

"Things got a little awkward without you on your crew. John fired the fat guy because he just wasn't putting out the effort. But that leaves us one man short. John doesn't want to move someone off some other crew. He's gonna call you tonight to see if you'll take on another day."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 03



"You could have saved him the effort. You know I need to study."

"Carl, that wouldn't have been a good idea. How can I supervise your crew if I'm living with one of its members? Whatever I did it would look like some sort of favoritism."

I nodded and changed the subject. "I'm making progress with this course." I said. "I figure two days per course would get me up to where I should have been for the exams. Tomorrow I'll have this one done. Work Thursday. Friday and one day on the weekend for the second course, repeat next week. I can't see how I could do another day. What do you think?"

"It's what I expected. We may have to go into overtime, which is good for me and the better crews."

This entire conversation was conducted with her standing on the wood floor, nude and dripping water, particularly from her pussy. She was utterly unself-conscious about it but I felt like I had x-ray vision and was seeing her through her clothes. 

"John will probably call you around eight or nine. I'm gonna read and then go to bed."

When my cell rang, it was John, the boss. He explained the situation and asked if I would work an extra day. 

'Thanks for thinking of me, Mr. Brovato, but I have to get my courses under control. I just can't take on more days."

*

Over Cheerios I told Cindy about my conversation with John. "He sounded worried, that maybe all the work won't get done. Maybe Mike and I could work past five and pick up some of the slack that way. Would that help?"

"I don't know what Mike's situation is, do you? I could ask. There is a swing guy we will probably put into your slot, but I don't think he's available all the time. The fat guy was a two-weeker. We can't hire just anyone because you're in students' rooms unsupervised. If anything's missing we have trouble. Damn! Why does everybody have to go off to Florida to fuck?"

*

John called Mike and asked him to work an extra four hours each day, at time-and-a-half. Mike loved the idea: he could use the money. John told him that he was going to put the swing guy in with him and also ask Carl (me) to also work an extra four hours on his remaining three days. 

*

Wednesday was a lot like Tuesday, except that I had underestimated how much more reading I had to do. I broke for lunch in the cafeteria and John asked me to work the extra hours. I agreed and asked him if I was going to work with Mike, and he said yes. John told me about the swing guy but said he wouldn't be working the extra hours and sounded worried that we wouldn't get everything done. I told him Mike and I would push ourselves to make things work out.

It was after eight when I got back to the apartment. Cindy had March Madness on the television and patted the couch next to her. At halftime we talked about our days and I exulted that I'd finished the first course's reading and had started syncing my notes for the second course.

"John told me he talked to you, and he's hopeful we can finish all the work.

"The campus police got a call from one of the housekeeping staff that someone unauthorized was in one of the dorms. Turns out it was a student and a boy from town having a good time in her room! She was really freaked out and they called me to calm her down. Turns out she was stoned and so was he, and they had a lot of bad stuff in their backpacks. The cops busted them both. Looks like there will be one more single available after the break."

*

We had corn flakes for breakfast, from Pete's cabinet. Cindy took off for a meeting with John and I headed for my assigned dorm to meet Mike and the new guy.

The three of us made a good team and we were ahead of schedule when Cindy showed up just after lunch. "Great! You guys are going to work for me till nine, right?" The swing guy said no, he had to leave at five. 

"Hey, I'm gonna bring McDonalds around then. Sure you don't wanna stay? And I've got vouchers for dinner at one of the restaurants in town since the cafeteria will be closed by nine." He still wouldn't stay.

She turned to Mike and me. "Any preferences?"

"You could join us," said Mike. 

"Thanks, but I can't. I spend my nights studying at my boyfriend's place."

*

When I staggered in around nine-thirty, Cindy was just getting out of her overalls. 

"I feel like a farm girl with these things, and your bandana finishes off the look," she said. "I had no idea this would be so much fun! 

"You've probably seen some interesting things in the rooms you've been in, but man are there some strange places on this campus. Today we got a call from one of the teams when they couldn't open a room. It's required that the campus police have key access to every room, even if they never use it. But this place was a fortress — they'd installed TWO deadbolt locks AND a door reinforcer. 

"The cops had to hammer down the door. What a mess! Inside it was like a dungeon, all black paint. There were a whole bunch of hotplates in one bedroom. John thinks crystal meth. We locked the place back up with new locks and the cops will be there when the dorms open."

I waved her into the bathroom first but she held back and said, "Why don't we shower together?"

"Because I will become extremely aroused. And you have to study. And you're probably tired. I can sleep in, remember, so you ought to be careful what you ask for."

"True. But," and she flashed her breasts at me, "I do need some help getting these clean. And I'll help with yours."

We washed with her homemade soap and I found out where the clean smell came from. It was rough and there was no perfume in it. As I had expected, having her naked against me got me up. She stroked me to full hardness, then knelt and gave me the most wonderful blowjob! It wasn't my first, but it was my first in a shower. I collapsed into the corner and nearly melted onto the floor. She sucked and swirled her tongue on my cock, ever so gently squeezed my balls at just the right time, and had my load in her mouth in five minutes.

We dried each other and my cock started to return to stiffness.

"Down Johnson, down," she said, lasciviously and authoritatively. "You're excused for the night. See you over the weekend." She kissed me and I tasted myself.

*

We hit the bottom of the corn flakes box at breakfast. I announced that I would be getting groceries in the afternoon. We also needed milk, bread, orange juice, and a case of Sprite.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"A dozen eggs. I like to make omelets. Get some American and Swiss cheese to go in it, and some mushrooms. They're going to do steaks at the cafeteria for dinner on Saturday for everybody and some roasted chicken on Sunday night. Regular stuff for tonight and for lunch on the weekend, though."

I took my lunch break at the cafeteria but didn't see Cindy. When I finished shopping (having added Canadian bacon to the list), I took everything to the apartment. Back in the library I got a big chunk of the second "C" course done and by six I was winding down. Then I realized that Cindy still had the half-shift still to go. She wouldn't be home till probably nine-thirty. I got dinner at the cafeteria and went back for another two hours, nearly finishing the whole course. I would have almost the entire weekend free!

*

"Man am I beat! Would you be insulted if I took a bubble bath and just poured myself into bed?"

"No insult at all. It's been a long hard week. I'm gonna watch the game." 

Around eleven Cindy woke me gently and guided me to my bed.

* 

The smell of eggs and bacon woke me up around eight-thirty. Cindy had her iPod set to "Beatles" and was singing along. "I wish I was alive back then. I think I'm reincarnated from some hippy who got run over by a VW bus at Woodstock." She was in her robe and had my apron on. 

"I assume you guys like tea since there's no coffee around here, right? I brought my own coffee, but it's pretty strong and I wasn't sure you'd like it. Here," and she extended her mug. She was right, it was strong enough to bend a spoon. Tea was fine with me.

The omelet was big and light and fluffy. The American cheese and mushrooms were complimented with a little tabasco and onions. The bacon was just right.

After we washed the dishes and put them away, I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. "It's the weekend, what do you want to do?"

"Did you look outside? It snowed four inches last night."

"That's it, we're marooned! We have to huddle together to conserve body heat." I undid the apron strings and pulled it over her head, discovering that she had nothing on under the robe.

"Mister Johnson would like a word," I announced.

"Can we get some light in here?" Cindy asked. "I like fucking in natural light." The window in my room faced south and had lots of light, but I'd always kept the curtains closed because of the glare on my monitor.

"Let's hang something about two-thirds of the way up the window," Cindy suggested. "That way we can avoid prying eyes and still have the light." We taped two towels across the window and had soft, wonderful light.

I opened the robe and lifted her breasts to my lips. Cindy sighed and shrugged the robe off as I tickled her left nipple with my tongue. She reached into my sleeping shorts and stroked my rapidly-hardening cock.

"We've gotta get naked, this is awkward," she said, as she bent and ever-so-slowly drew my shorts down. "Good morning Mr. Johnson, so nice to see you again." Getting out of our slippers had us nude.

I wanted to see her raven-black head of hair spread out on my pillow, so Cindy flopped down on her back and fluffed it out. At first I stood beside the bed and moved it around, but the view from the end was even better. She'd let me photograph her that first night, and I wanted to do it again.

"Can I —"

"Yes, I thought you might want to, so I brought the bandana. It's in the pocket of my robe." She tied it around her eyes and I shot from every angle. The natural light was wonderful. When I got between her legs for close-ups of her pussy, the abundance of hair and the absence of focused light made it impossible to get anything good. I gave up and put the camera back in the charger. 

She tossed the bandana onto the pile of her robe.

"God Cindy, you are beautiful. From every angle. I can't believe what I'm seeing." 

"I never thought I'd like this sort of thing, but I really do. Can we edit them and make some prints?"

"Sure. We can do some more, afterwards."

"Good."

I was lying beside her, just stroking her face and neck as we talked. I wanted to prolong the buildup to fucking so I started to kiss down her chest. 

"Do you like to tease your lovers, Carl?"

"No, I don't think so. But I want to give you orgasms every way I can. This is such a sensuous time. You and me, all day, the light, the gray sky, no one else, no rush, god I feel like a bad poet," I stumbled to the end.

"Then I'm yours, work your magic," she said.

I'd tried eating pussy only once and knew that I didn't know very much. What I had absorbed from the porn sites was that it should be slow, verrrrrrrry slow, and not beginning at her pussy at all.

So I stretched out beside her and licked her big toe. I kissed the instep as I stroked her calf. Her leg relaxed and I moved to her other foot and took all five toes in my mouth and tongued them one at a time, again holding her calf, kneading it softly. She sighed and "ummm"-ed in encouragement.

As I kissed and licked my way up that leg across her calf to her knee and up her thigh, Cindy began stroking my hair. I kissed up her left thigh to the hair, then changed to her right thigh and did the same, savoring the clean smell from her pussy.

Her pussy lips were glistening as I moved into place. "Oh yes, that is sooooo nice," I heard her say, "this is so verrrrry nice." I sucked one of the lips into my mouth, then moved to the other, then started to slide my tongue between them when Cindy began to arch against my face. 

"I'm gonna cum, Carl, you are soooooo nice, so verrrrrry nice," and she pushed her pussy against my face. I kept tonguing her opening and she bucked some more. "Oh god keep doing that, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh god yessssss."

She subsided, but I resisted the temptation to declare victory. I wanted to give her more, so I returned to kissing the pussy lips. I wet my index finger and teased around the lips and then down to the very bottom of her opening before entering her.

"Oh! Oh, that's, that's wonnnnderful, really good, oh yeah," she murmured. I moved my finger to the top of her opening, then back down, separating the lips as I went but avoiding her clit. When I reached the bottom and started up again, separating the lips again, I changed direction and put just the tip into her. "Ohhhhh my, soooo good," she moaned.

I pulled back, then went in a little further, then back, further in, then out, and returned my tongue and sucked the lips again. I had just started to insert my tongue when she started to buck. 

This time she grabbed my head and pulled me hard against her pussy. "There, you've done it, oh god Carl, that's wonnnnnderful! Don't stop, keep doing it! Oh god, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" as she humped against my face. The force of her orgasm thrilled me but I I needed to breathe, so I shifted my face just enough to free my nose, took a deep breath, and stole a glance at her.

Her face was contorted in ecstasy and she was licking her lips furiously. Both hands were working her nipples. This orgasm kept on going and she grabbed my head and pushed my face back into her pussy for more stimulation. I adjusted a little so I could breathe regularly and kept on tonguing her, until finally she subsided onto the bed.

I felt the sweet smell of her sweat dripping into her pussy hair, mingling with her juices. I pulled as much of it as I could into my mouth and savored the combination of tastes.

More. I wanted to do more. I hadn't even put my tongue fully into her pussy, and I hadn't uncovered her clit. When I started again, I saw that her clit was in action, standing out, a mushroom-shaped bud demanding attention. I started tonguing it when Cindy grabbed my hair and pulled me up.

"Carl, you can't keep doing this to me, I'll never recover. Let's stop. We can fuck now."

"Please don't make me stop, Cindy! Let me do you this one last time, then we'll fuck."

"I'm gonna die of orgasms, I know it," she groaned, but didn't force the issue. I worked her clit with my lips and tongue, at one point pushing it against my teeth. She squealed — of what? Pain I guess, not hurting but pleasurable — and another orgasm washed over her. 

"Enough! God I can't take any more! Stop! I'll die if you keep this up!" She grabbed me with her thighs and squeezed my head so hard that I had to quit.

As I stretched out beside her and kissed the sweat off her face, I felt her pounding heart slow and her breathing edge back to normal. She smiled beatifically. 

"God you are wonderful! You have no idea how wonderful this has been." She shifted to her side.

"Now I want to fuck. C'mon, get up in the saddle."

My cock had softened, not deflated but needed a little encouragement to return to full readiness. I licked my fingers to wet it when Cindy pushed them away and did the job herself.

"You are going to get sooo fucked! C'mon, get hard!" She slapped my cock against my thigh and soon had me as hard as ever.

"Inside, oh god get it inside," she commanded. I pushed the head in, then retreated, then in again, then out.

"You bastard! Don't tease me! Bury him in there!" I shoved all the way inside her and she hooked her heels on my ass and began humping me. 

"Fuck me! God fuck me! Please fuck me! Hard!" she demanded. I'd wanted to do this slowly, like the pussy eating, but she wasn't interested. She slammed her pussy against me, over and over, and yanked my ass against her with her heels.

I held off as long as I could, I don't know how long, but I felt my orgasm building. 

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum! Here it is, I'm cumming!" and I spurted three or four blasts into her as I rammed my cock in as far inside as I could.

We collapsed and lay side by side, both puffing to regain our senses. It may have been ten minutes, maybe more, before either of us spoke.

"Wanna go make a snowman?"

"Can we have one with a big erection?"

"The neighbors might object."

"Then you're staying right here. When I can have cock, I want cock!"

We dozed and I woke just after noon to find Cindy was awake. And thinking.

"You don't have much in the way of lunch food here," she said. "Let's go over to the cafeteria. I am really hungry."

We washed each other and almost fucked but she really was hungry, so we slogged through the late-winter wet snow. 

Cindy saw him before he saw us. 

"John's here! I can't let him see us together. You go for a walk and I'll bring some food back to the apartment."

When she came back she was not happy. "He did see us, and he's figured it out. I'm not going to be managing your building and I'm probably lucky he didn't do anything else with me."

"He doesn't like me? Why?"

"John's an old-fashioned guy, Carl. He doesn't like people playing favorites and he thinks there's no way that I can be objective about your crew. He admits that you've been very productive, but he won't budge. He did promise not to say anything about us to anybody. And he complimented the work you guys have done. He'll probably be supervising you guys himself."

"Maybe he wants to get into your pants and sees me as competition?"

"Asshole! You are so lame! He's more than twice my age, probably weights three times what I do, he's married and has three kids, the oldest of which is a year younger than me. Plus he needs his job even more than I need mine. The university has a rule about fraternizing with students and they fired an assistant dean last year when he was caught fucking a male student. It wouldn't be worth the risk.

"Look, Carl, we've got a good thing going. We both like fucking and I am comfortable being with you. But I can't afford to get involved with anyone right now. Please," she said, and her eyes clouded, "let's just make this what it is, nothing else, okay?"

"Cindy, I feel like my life has gone from zero to sixty and I've banged into corners along the way, all in two weeks. When I started in the club I'd never really been kissed by someone with intentions, and now I'm jelly in your hands. I'm not trying to go somewhere you don't want to go, or even anywhere. You're right, we have to let our lives happen.

"I'm new to this jealousy thing. First Mike invites you out, now I fantasize that John's after you. I know I have to get more mature about this, but I'm not doing well."

"Carl, we're lovers, fucking good lovers, loving good fucking.

"Until I got here I'd never woken up next to a man. In Mumbai, at CC, it was daytime sex, because I always had to be front-and-center with mom. You're my initiation into big-time overnight fucking, waking-up-in-the-morning fucking, even messing-around-in-the-shower fucking.

"And," she said, shyly, "I'd never really been eaten. Until you. Ann told me about it, and I've seen it on the net, but never in the flesh. I'll grant you I have absolutely nothing to compare you to, but you nearly killed me this morning. If I'm gonna die young I want it to be because you ate me like you did."

We smiled wanly at each other and she took the three hamburgers and cheese fries and heated them in the microwave. She popped a couple of Sprites as we watched the basketball game. After the first half we began fondling each other and she slid my cock into her mouth and leisurely took my full load. We fell asleep, in the middle of the afternoon.

*

The alarm buzzed at six, startling us. "Steaks for dinner, remember?" Cindy said, popping out of bed and grabbing my big toe. "C'mon, before they're all gone."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 04



Pete breezed into the apartment around seven. His tan and smile told me all I needed to know about how his spring break had gone. As he unloaded his backpack he gave me a rundown of his two weeks.

“Everything they say about spring break in Florida is true!” he gushed. “There are endless parties, food, swimming, and wall-to-wall willing girls. And there are bins of condoms, all sizes, all colors, all flavors. The pressure is to use them, every time.”

“So you met a lot of girls?”

“Weeeeeeeeeell, not reeeeeeeeeally,” he stretched it out.

“Oh?”

“Actually, I met two girls. There was Marcia, who introduced me to Suzi. After the second day Suzi and I were inseparable.

“She’s fabulous! We like the same music, the same politics, even the same sports teams. And we don’t like the wild parties, the drinking, and the drugs. Here,” he said, whipping out his cell and flipping to the photos.

She had brown hair to her shoulders, a t-shirt tight in all the right places, big black-framed glasses, a wide wonderful smile, and a twinkle that suggested she was posing for the camera and liked it. Pete flipped to the second photo, which showed her in an apron in a kitchen; to the third, which showed her in a bikini which did not leave a lot to the imagination; and to a fourth, which showed her stark naked, full frontal, with a huge grin.

“Ooops! Went too far,” he blushed and flipped back to number three.

“So we just, well, lived together. For eleven days. And I’m in love.”

“Congratulations!” 

“You know I don’t like to cook, right? Well, she and her roommate had rented a place with a small kitchen. After the second day, when Suzi and I decided we wanted to stay together, her roommate offered to take my room and I moved in with Suzi. We ate out but that got expensive. So we bought some groceries and said we’d share the cooking. Secretly I figured I was so bad that she’d take over. Turned out, she was worse than me! We wouldn’t have starved, but cold scrambled eggs for breakfast and overdone scrambled eggs for dinner was no good, either. 

“We went to one of the hotels that offered a free wine-and-cheese tasting. Afterward we heard about a four-day cooking class they were starting the next day, and we signed up.

“There were ten of us, two couples and six singles. Three of the singles were older guys, in their mid-twenties, probably reliving their youth.

“The class was in the morning, for three hours. We learned to make all kinds of omelets, grill fish and meat, make sauces and salads from scratch, and pair wines with the meals. We got to the point we thought we were good enough to have a party and invited Marcia and her boyfriend, Suzi’s roommate and her boyfriend, and another couple we met.

“We made dinner for eight in a small motel room with a lame kitchen. And it was a blast! We spent the rest of our time fucking, swimming, and pestering restaurant owners about all sorts of foody things. Since they were usually the chefs as well, we learned a lot.”

“AND you’re in love?” I asked, returning to the original subject.

“Oh yeah. After a while, frankly, the club gets, well, repetitive. That’s why I went to Florida, for some variety. Fucking is in the air there! And so is pressure to use condoms. God how I hate condoms! We used them, of course, but then we saw an ad for 3-day results on an STD test. By Monday our results were back, both negative, so we went bareback the rest of the time.”

“So you’re in love?” I prompted, again.

“She is soooo loving! I don’t just mean the sex, which was great. But we just care about each other and what we can do together, outside bed.

“Carl, she’s going to transfer here next year. We’re going to get an apartment and live together.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” I teased.

“My parents met in Florida on spring break in 1983. Dad transferred to mom’s school and they got married the year after they graduated. This may not work out, but I’m gonna take the chance.”

Pete was finished unpacking so we popped a couple of Sprites and sat at the kitchen table.

“Don’t you want to keep this apartment?” I asked. 

“We won’t need this much space. If I start looking now, I’ll find something that we can take for the fall. There is always turnover as people graduate and the graduate students move on.”

My head was whirling. “I like this place. Can I take it over?”

“Sure. My advice is, starting advertizing soon, that way you’ll get it over with and have the best chance for a good roommate.”

Is the university listing service the way to go?”

“Yes, it really got responses. I interviewed four guys. You were the best fit for my style and the club.”

“The club? Why worry about the club?”

“Because there is always turnover and the club keeps going only if we have new members. We lose between fifteen and twenty members every year. Didn’t you notice? Well, probably not, you were too busy settling in, but there have been eight new members since New Year’s, besides yourself. Cindy is one of them, but there are also three female graduate students; a female sophomore; and three guys, a freshman, a sophomore, and a graduate student. The mix keeps changing, but we have to fill the vacancies. Otherwise, the club will collapse and fifty people won’t be getting laid.”

Pete sat up in his chair. “Hey, I’m sorry, this has been pretty one-sided. Tell me how your spring vacation was.”

I gave Pete a rundown on Cindy, our working together, and what I took to be our breakup.

“The girls don’t usually get into the club for long-term relationships,” Pete mused. “No one really does, but especially with the girls, they’re usually focused on something else: careers, interests — like Karen, she’s a classic! — but not the white picket fence and two-point-five kids. It’s our biggest selling point for women, that they can have an active sex life without the pressure to get committed to anyone.

“For the guys, it’s easier in a way. You and I, we were virgins, we wanted to get laid and the club made it happen. I probably would have been a virgin till I was forty, the way I was going. Once I understood that I was attractive, I was on my way. But, as I’ve gotten bolder, I find I like the chase.”

“You take this seriously,” I said.

“Well, yes. Ruth — Mrs. McGowen — encourages everyone to look for possible members. I’ve brought in three this year, not counting you: my freshman-year roommate, his roommate, and a guy one of the girls was dating before she joined the club.  Margery’s good at it too, but most of the members can’t be bothered. It’s a struggle, frankly.”

We sat in silence for few minutes, then Pete brightened. “Did you sign up for any dates this week?” I told him Wednesday and Friday. 

“Any more available?”

“There were when I left,” I said, then realized where he was going. “Hey, wait! You’re in love! You can’t —”

“I’m in love but she’s not here. We agreed that we would pick up where we left off when she arrives here in the fall. How else can we live? I’ll call Ruth and see if we can come over. C’mon, you haven’t seen her outside her role as den mother.”

*

Over chicken francese, Ruth McGowen explained how the club came about. 

“I graduated from here sixteen years ago and married my sweetheart that summer. He was two years older, already an assistant lecturer in his department, and within three years he was on track for a tenured position. So we bought this house. At the time it was a wreck. Several undergraduate and graduate students worked for us for almost two years to restore and update the place. It was a magical time for us! We became very close to them and took several in as boarders. 

“At my job in the library’s reserve desk, I’d see a lot of kids. So many of them just burrowed into their books, all they did was study. They’d chat with me, the boys and the girls, but they didn’t seem to have any social life. It made me sad.

“So I thought, ‘why not do a little matchmaking?’ We started with Saturday night pot-luck dinners, then added springtime picnics. The matchmaking worked pretty well, but there were still kids who weren’t dating. I was surprised at how many of them would unburden themselves to me about being shy, feeling unlovable or dorky, irredeemably nerdy, what have you. It just broke my heart.

“Stuart was killed eight years ago in an automobile wreck. I was destroyed, but the kids were so supportive. There must have been forty of them, those who had graduated and those who were still here. They became my family. They got me through it. 

“Financially I am more than comfortable. The legal settlement plus the university life insurance paid off the mortgage and construction loans and left me with enough that I make almost what an associate professor does. I still work at the library but do legal research for appellate lawyers in all sorts of civil litigation on a part-time basis. 

“The pot-lucks were my anchor. They became bigger and bigger. Gradually I realized that the matchmaking should get more organized. At first I was afraid I would scare girls away if I was too up-front about it, but the ones I confided in convinced me that they would be very receptive, so I set up the board on the kitchen wall.

“It’s evolved now to a membership of fifty, give or take. Roughly 28 girls and 21 guys. I’ve gotten firmer in the rules, particularly about STD tests and dating only within the membership.”

“I was one of those reading-room trolls,” Pete said quietly. “You were so kind to me. You listened and listened. Then you invited me to one of the pot-lucks. At first I resisted, but you were persistent. ‘Just bring a six-pack of Sprite,’ you said. 

“You had me pass stuff around and put me on the clean-up crew. And you would talk to me for hours about my hopes and my fears.”

Ruth smiled. “That’s the way it works. My job is to bring you out of your shell, help you see that you have value to others and that you can take something from the group for yourself.”

“Nobody’s ever mentioned these pot-lucks to me. Aren’t you doing them anymore?” I asked.

“They’re a lot of work,” Ruth sighed. “Last spring I decided I just couldn’t keep it up. So I switched to the Sunday afternoon soirees. But I think things have gotten a little too mechanical, frankly, and I do miss the pot-lucks. There just isn’t anyone who wants to take them on.”

“Pete said there’s a drop-out problem. Why is it so hard to find members? If you’d advertized you’d have gotten me much earlier,” I said.

“Well, maybe not,” Ruth replied, wanly. “What would the ad say? ‘Easy sex, no strings, must pass STD test, call Ruth at 555-1212?’ The first call would be from an undercover agent for the district attorney. No, this is a very private, referral club, just friends and friends-of-friends. 

“As it is, I’ve been called into the Provost’s office twice to discuss the club, because someone who was turned down made allegations. We straightened it out and she clued the police and the district attorney in, so they wouldn’t get crazy. That’s where the Dutch treat rule came from. And it’s why I don’t take boarders any more.”

Ruth and I did the dishes as Pete scanned the board. Of the four uncovered tokens only one was for Thursday, the night he was interested in.

“Karen. You mind?”

Why should I? Who she sleeps with and what they do isn’t my business. Besides, they’ve been to bed before. She didn’t talk about any of her previous lovers, she isn’t going to talk about me, right?

“We’ll go to her place if you want.”

“No need. I’ll be in the library or my room sorting photos. No problem.”

*

My Wednesday date was with Pat, an archaeology major who was graduating and heading off to Crete. Of all the girls in the club, she was by far the most vivacious. Her laugh was infectious and she used it to get others to laugh too.

I ran into her on Monday, in the union. “Any preference for dinner?” I asked.

“You’re not into fast food, I hope. This place is calorie city. How about going into town?”

“I’ve been here almost two years and only recently did it occur to me to eat in town,” I admitted. “I’ve been to the Indian place but I’m game for something new. You know some place you like?”

“There’s a French-Canadian place not too far away. Nah, the frog’s legs are squishy.” She laughed at the thought. “Let’s each do a little research. We’ll write the names of two places we might like on slips of paper, and we’ll draw.”

So we ate Mexican, just around the corner from her apartment. She knew the owner, the waiters, the cooks, and the bartender. Every time she introduced me to one of them they smiled knowingly. By eight we had finished and I knew enough about horizontal, vertical, and keyhole excavation techniques, strata preservation strategies, and pottery age estimating to teach a freshman course. 

The owner wanted to pay for our dinner but we both declined, insisting on paying our half the check. 

Afterward she showed me around her part of town. It was a warm night, the kind that hints it will be spring soon but you’re skeptical since there are piles of dirty snow everywhere.

By nine we were in her apartment. Her roommate, Mark, was a graduate assistant in a sociology class I took freshman year. “Yeah, that’s my field. Did you get a good grade?”

“ ‘A’ but I’m not sure I deserved it,” I said. “My paper was thin.”

“You probably skated on your good looks,” he sniggered and I winced.

“See ya, Mark,” said Pat as she guided me down the hall to her bedroom.

“Mark’s a terrific roommate,” Pat apologized. “He’s gay but sometimes his sense of humor can make guys uncomfortable.” Her room was surprisingly large, with a small love seat and several large bookcases. We’d shed our shoes as soon as we entered the apartment and now we reached for each other.

Her lips were soft, her tongue demanding. She grabbed my ass and pulled me tight to her, wanting my cock hard against her. I obliged and found myself wanting to take everything between us away, right away. My hands went inside her jeans to snag her ass even as her tongue engaged mine into a fierce battle. She was pulling my shirt out of my pants as we broke for air.

“Good!” she puffed, “I want it fast!”

I was on her zipper quickly and had her jeans and panties down fast. I lapped at her curly mound on my way north to her chest, which held two different-sized breasts, the right one slightly smaller than the left. Freckles extended from her shoulders almost to these breasts, which were pale with already-pointy nipples.

She was on my belt and zipper like a tiger. Pop, zip, thumbs inside, slide, cock out and bobbing. “Mmmmm, nice,” she said approvingly as she cupped my balls. Drawing her hand up and over my cockhead, she gave it a slight squeeze, then helped me finish my shirt.

Brushing past me to the bed, Pat pulled the covers down and fell onto her back, extending her arms and spreading her legs. I was right behind her but slid further and pulled her to my side. My cockhead was millimeters from her opening.

I reached for her and took the nipple of the smaller breast into my mouth. I sucked it, nipped it once or twice to good effect, and felt her push against my face even as she stroked my hair and moved her hands down my side to my haunch.

“Ride me baby, I’m ready, I’m hot,” she panted. I licked my fingers and swabbed my cock, then rose into position and one-stroked into her. Her hips collided with mine and we were thrashing. In and out I pistoned, up and down she humped. 

“Oh yes, so good, push it in me, I’ll cum, you cum, fuck yes! Yes! Oh YESSS!” and her pussy muscles contracted in orgasm around me as I zoomed to my own climax.

We collapsed into a sweaty pile of heavy breathing. I kissed her face and felt her pussy muscles trying to milk me. I stayed hard longer than I ever remembered, but eventually I got soft and slid out.

“You’re a cocksman, Carl,” she purred, “a real sprinter. God that was good.”

As I got my breathing back to normal, I turned to her and idly began stroking her larger breast, trying not to touch the flesh but letting the charge in the air do the work. After ten or fifteen minutes she began to respond and pulled me onto her. I straddled her and began kissing her chest, trying to place my mouth on each freckle. I felt my flaccid cock ooze the last drops of cum onto her belly. 

“You up for some more?” she said. In response I took a deep breath and blew into her navel. The loud “blaaaat!” set us both off, laughing.

“Does your ass have freckles, too?” I asked. 

“See for yourself,” she said and, as I released her, she rolled onto her belly and pushed her ass into my face.

I kissed all around both cheeks. “I’m here to report: no freckles, ma’m, just two alluring orbs calling out to me.”

“And what’re they saying?”

“ ‘Fuck us, fuck us now, we’re waiting,’ ” I intoned in as high-pitched voice as I could. “I think that’s what I heard. Isn’t that what the Sirens sang?”

 “Smartass! There were three Sirens and they sang to lure men to their doom.”

“Whoops! Bad analogy, then, ’cause these are round and pink and sending out offers of pleasure, not destruction.” I’d read a bit of classical literature and commentary in high school but must have missed this part.

“Try me then,” she said. I shuffled into position behind her and plugged her opening with my cock, just drying from its last adventure in her. I started slow, stroking deeply into her pussy and retreating almost completely out on the back stroke. She wiggled against me and I reached for her clit to see what would happen.

“Oh god that’s nice, do both, soooo nice, you are sooooo nice,” she murmured encouragingly as I sat back on my heels. I wanted to last as long as I could, so I slid in deep and laid my face on her back.

Her clit was aroused and I wanted to get my tongue on it, but that was an anatomical impossibility. I could feel it growing, though, so I slobbed my thumb and forefinger and worked it slowly. 

“Start up again,” she said softly. My hips moved maybe two inches back, then returned to their original position tight against her ass. “More, do more, please, it’s so nice to feel you moving in me,” she purred.

I’ve never deliberately held off this long. She seems to like my extending it. When’s she going to orgasm? I’m getting a little tired in this position. Maybe I should speed up, but I don’t feel the need to cum right now. What does she want?

“You’re thinking! I can feel you starting to get soft. STAY HARD!” and she lifted her hips and swung her ass around to stimulate me.

Snapped out of my reverie, I began sliding my cock in and out. It was true, I had gotten semi-soft. “You have to help me, Pat, I just got mellow being quiet in your pussy.”

“Then roll over, I’ll ride you,” she said authoritatively. I pulled out and flopped on my back as she straddled me. While not flaccid, my cock did droop and I was embarrassed.

This has never happened to me before! How could I go soft when I’m in her pussy? I’m fucking! This isn’t normal! God I hope she doesn’t think I don’t like fucking her.

“C’mon man, get hard,” she commanded as she slapped my cock against my thigh. Not getting the cooperation she wanted, she slid down and took it in her mouth and began pumping me with her hands and sucking me.

As the realization sunk in that it was no use, she gave up and laid her head on my chest. As I stroked her hair, my shame overwhelmed me, but I knew I had to say something.

“Pat, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happened.”

“I’m puzzled too,” she said. “That first go-round was really good! Let’s wait a little bit and see if things get back to normal.” She got up and pulled on her robe, then strode out to the bathroom. When she came back it was with a warm washcloth to clean me and the bed. We spooned and she draped her arm across my hip, barely brushing my cockhead.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 04



I drifted off for what seemed like a few minutes, but when I woke I saw by her bedside clock that it was almost one. She was snoring softly with her back to me.

It was the Sirens talk! Had to be. I’m afraid of her somehow. That’s ridiculous! She likes fucking, I like fucking. We’re members of a fuck club, we know what we want, what’s to be afraid of?

My left hand summoned a semi-erection, hard enough for the job. I stroked Pat’s pussy through the crack of her legs and she moved her top leg to give me more access. I touched her anus with my little finger and she sighed and rolled onto her back. 

“Oh good, you’re back for more,” she said as she reached for my cock. With a couple of deft strokes she had me hard enough for her satisfaction.

“Ride me Pat, I like it that way,” I said, not truthfully but I figured I could give her an orgasm that way and get off enough so she wouldn’t catch on.

Straddling me, she leaned forward and sucked me into her mouth, then lifted herself onto my cock and slid down. I moistened my thumb and started working her clit. She quickly got into motion and I humped against her as I played with her clit for all I was worth.

“I’m gonna cum, you’re making me cum, ohhhhhh, yessssss, fuck me, fuck me hard!” She swung her head and hips around, pumping my cock. I actually got into it myself and pushed back, hard. She got me to cum. My cock shrank faster than a spent bottle rocket at a fireworks display.

*

I excused myself from breakfast, claiming a meeting with a professor. I was at my computer by eight. I googled “failure to perform” and its variants for twenty minutes but getting nothing more than insights about too much drinking or drugs before sex.

What am I going to do about this? Maybe it’s a one-time thing. Pat’s okay, but there’s no spark. What do I need, love? I’m sorta jealous of Pete’s situation, but he’s not letting that stop him. Was it Cindy’s face I was seeing when I got hard enough to cum? Maybe I need to see a shrink.

*

Ruth considered the problem as I blabbed out the sordid details.

“I’m not a therapist, Carl, and God knows I’m not a man. And frankly I didn’t sleep around much before Stuart. I know it’s a lot easier for a woman to fake an orgasm than it is for a man. In the early days of the club, when I was doing active matchmaking, if a couple didn’t hit it off or one of them wasn’t as interested as the other, I’d talk with them. Separately, of course.

“You’re not a head case, you’re a sweet loving guy and everyone likes you. I know somebody at the health services who’d probably be helpful.” She flipped through her leather-bound book and wrote out a name and phone number.

*

On Friday morning I spilled my guts to Dr. Ascheim. For twenty minutes I rambled about kissing my sister, envying Pete, my first fuck and how tired I was afterward, my bad midterms, Cindy and living together, envying Pete some more, Pat and her roommate, and my failure to perform.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Carl,” he said, “but you’re normal. You’ve suffered an episode of insight. It wasn’t a ‘ghee whiz’ or road-to-Damascus moment, yours was more public, but that’s what happened.

“It ought to happen more often, but the score-keeping and hook-up culture masks it.

“As it happens, you picked an unsuitable partner. You hustled into bed with her and everything was fine. When you had a chance to think about her, her roommate, whatever, subconsciously the realization got to you that there was something wrong, wrong for you. Your impotence was the result of this understanding.”

IMPOTENCE. Great! It had a name. I should have thought of that.

“So it won’t happen again?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” I crashed. 

“Depends on your future choice of partners. The club facilitates members getting together, but nothing more. It’s like Craigslist, the moral equivalent of offers scrawled on bathroom walls.”

“Maybe I should date outside the club?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“The rules are dating only inside the club.”

“No, the rule is having sex partners only inside the club. There’s a difference. Remember when you asked Cindy out? You said you wanted ‘a real date, not a structured encounter.’ Even in today’s culture, spending time with a woman isn’t only about sex. You can have friendships with women, you can even have friendships with the women in the club if you want, that aren’t about sex. They can be colleagues, people you sit next to in a class, even students you teach. 

“You were going to Mississippi for spring break, right? Was that about sex?”

“No, but I’d signed up in January, before I even knew about the club. I didn’t like the idea of going to Florida and maybe getting a disease. It still seems creepy, though the way Pete handled it, maybe it’s not so bad.”

“So what’re you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t just give up sex, I just can’t! It’s on my mind all the time. I look at a girl and I get an erection! I know I have to have some discipline about studying, but it’s so hard. The way Cindy and I structured our time together, I felt like I was married, no sex except on weekends.”

“Well, that’s a good place for us to break,” Dr. Ascheim said. He handed me his card. “Call me anytime, we’ll get together if you need to talk.”

*

Back in my room, I called Carol and cancelled our date. This would get me grief from Ruth, as it was one of her very firm rules that the guy had to show up, only the girl could break a date. But I didn’t know Carol any better than I knew Pat.

I’ll stop going to the club. Go back to my old ways, just study and take pictures. No, that’ll never work, that’s why I moved in with Pete. Quit school and get a job, have a real life, find someone who will love me for who I am, get married, have kids. Sure, based on your recent experience, that’s the ticket. Stop obsessing about fucking, accept it as a part of your life, balance fucking and books. Perfect! Except you don’t know how. Crap.

*

When I walked out of the bathroom on Saturday morning, Pete was surprised. He hadn’t realized I had been in the apartment all night.

“You okay?”

“No, not really, but I don’t know why. I saw a doctor at the health service yesterday, I’m fine, but, well, I don’t know, I just feel, I dunno, empty.”

“Eat your cheerios and drink your tea, be merry,” he said. “It’s lovely outside. It’s spring!”

Is that it? Spring fever? “Hooray, horray for the first of May, outdoor fucking begins that day.”  No, it’s more existential, a good walk won’t fix this. I’m losing concentration, haven’t picked a major for next year, I have to study, just getting laid isn’t enough anymore, but the girl I want isn’t available, nothing personal.

*

I didn’t skip the club on Sunday afternoon, but I didn’t sign up for any dates either. No one seemed to notice. Luckily Carol wasn’t there. Pete booked two dates, Sunday and Monday nights, and both times he went to their rooms. When he found me in the kitchen on Tuesday morning he reported that he had found an apartment for himself and Suzi. Our landlord called and pushed me for a commitment about next year, so I signed the lease and gave him a deposit without anyone to share the place with.

By Wednesday afternoon, with only four weeks to go before finals, I was a real mess. I had been going to classes but hadn’t spent any time reviewing since my spring-break catch-up session. I had taken on a huge obligation to pay for an apartment but there was no one to help with the rent. I called Dr. Ascheim and made an appointment.

*

“It’s getting worse,” I said.

“What’s getting worse?”

“Everything! Isn’t it obvious? I’m not sleeping, I look like shit. Pete avoids me, he fucks his dates at their place. I’m not eating, I’ve lost five pounds. I’m masturbating at all hours of the day.”

“And?”

“And what should I do?”

“I don’t know. What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to disappear. Get away from here. Maybe transfer. I dunno.”

“Would that solve your problem?”

“Look, I know it’s the method, but can’t you give me some guidance? I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, here’s an idea. Focus on solving one discreet problem. Today.”

“Which one?”

“Look, Carl, I’m only good for so much. You decide. Let me know what happens.”

Ascheim has to be right. Pick one problem and get a handle on it. Which one? Exams are rushing toward me, I have to study. No, that’s too big. Go to the club and get laid? No, that’s what’s got me here in the first place. What?

At two in the morning I put an ad on the university listing service: “Male roommate wanted starting fall semester. Separate bedroom. Share kitchen. Safe building. Walk to campus. No smoking. Nerds and geeks welcome.”

By noon I had six responses. Two dropped out because of the rent but by noon on Friday I had met each of the others for coffee at the union and showed them the apartment. One of them wasn’t right for me or the club, but by dinner time I had a rent deposit check and one less worry.

I called Dr. Ascheim the next morning. “Is that all there is to it?” I said, hopefully.

“Well, maybe not, but it’s a good start. What’re you going to do next?”

“I don’t know. Maybe go shoot some photos. I haven’t even looked at the camera since Cindy dumped me. A study of slush piles, maybe.”

“Good. Let me know how it works out.”

For some reason, ten hours of slush-pile photographing morphed into treating Pete to dinner at the union to celebrate my finding a roommate.

“You’ve been pretty down, Carl,” he said. “I’m glad to see you back again.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why, I just lost focus I guess.”

“Ruth was wondering how you were. Do you have a date next week?”

“I really screwed up with Carol when I cancelled our date. I owe her an apology. I was thinking I’d call her and just hang out tomorrow, maybe go to one of the games, or something.”

“She’s nice. She’s only been in the club about six weeks and I’ve never dated her,” Pete said. 

I checked out her Facebook page. Her photo wasn’t sized right but she seemed perky, with interests I thought were compatible.

I screwed up my courage and called, apologizing for cancelling our date. She was gracious about it and I segued into asking her out. I suggested tomorrow’s varsity lacrosse game, scheduled for ten o’clock.

“Lacrosse? Do you play?” she said.

“No, but I like the action and my camera can handle rapid-sequence shots. Besides, it’s spring and I want to get outside.”

*

We met at the field just as the JV game was ending and the varsity was warming up. 

“I’m glad you could come, Carol. I want to apologize again for cancelling at the last minute. I was really run down and had a cold. You deserved better.”

“It’s okay, Carl, it really is. The girls said it had to be real because it wasn’t like you to do something like that unless it was true.”

It was a really warm spring morning. The ground was squishy from the melting snow, but the sky was blue. We took end-of-the-row, field-level seats on the small grandstand so I could move about freely and have a good angle on the goal with the sun behind me. I showed Carol how to use the rapid-fire settings and between us we took almost 150 shots.

Back in my room we downloaded everything and picked out a dozen pictures that looked pretty good. Nine were hers.

“You have a real eye for this,” I praised, and meant it.

“My roommate’s dating a guy on the newspaper,” said Carol. “We should go over there and see if they can use any of these.” She called her roommate, who checked with her boyfriend, and he said sure, come on over. We pulled a thumb drive and headed for the student newspaper offices.

The boyfriend was the assignment editor and, as such, could recommend material for the other editors. He liked three shots and emailed them to the photo editor. Within an hour he picked one and Carol had a photo credit for the next day’s paper.

“Sports photography! A career opportunity!” I teased over a pricey, celebratory frappe, for which I insisted on paying.

“It’ll be the second time my name’s ever been in the newspaper,” Carol said slowly. When I cocked a quizzical eyebrow, she went on. “Seven years ago, my little brother and I were biking alongside the road when we were side-swiped by a car. I was dumped in the ditch but he was tossed in the air and landed in the road and was run over by the next car.” She sighed.

“Oh my,” I said. “Carol, I’m so sorry.”

She took a deep breath and leaned forward. “The local paper made a big deal about us. Mom and dad were crushed and I felt so guilty.” She sighed again, then straightened up.

“We were going to his lacrosse practice.”

Finally I asked, “How old was he?”

“Twelve. I was thirteen. I wanted to go with him to see if I could catch the eye of one of the older guys I had a crush on. I told mom we could bike there, we’d be careful, she didn’t need to drive us.” She sighed again.

“I played lacrosse too, but since the accident I haven’t touched a stick. I haven’t even been to a match since, until today.”

We sat quietly.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

We walked into town, through town, back to the union, talking, at first hesitantly, then more animatedly. She was into botany, particularly seed diversity for grains. She had a part-time job working in the seed warehouse at the ag school, where they stored a huge variety of different varieties of grains. She was starting to learn about various forms of DNA replication.

“If there’s a rust, or a rot, or a blight, the few varieties of wheat in this country could be wiped out in a few years, and we don’t have the amount of seed stored to replace them. It’s one of the tradeoffs for engineering high-production grains, that we concentrate on only a few varieties,” she explained.

“But what are the chances of a wipe out? I’ve never heard of anything like this happening.”

“You Irish?”

“No, German and Scots. Why’s that matter?”

“Well, if you were Irish you’d know about the Great Famine in Ireland, in the 1840s. Their main food, potatoes, rotted in the fields because of disease. Tens of thousands died and it sparked a mass migration. And that’s only one story, there are many others.”

It was past six and we hadn’t eaten since the frappe, so we circled back to the union and settled on Italian food. By nine we’d finished and I wondered how the day was going to end. Carol solved the dilemma by laying down her credit card.

“I’ve got to study, Carl. If I hit the library tomorrow morning I can spend a couple of hours at the club in the afternoon. Will I see you there?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Good. I’ve had a nice time. Thanks. For everything.” We shook hands and she headed for her dorm.

That was a date, Carl. Well, not really, but sort of. No really, it was. You asked her out, she accepted, you did something mutually interesting, got an insight into her, and you liked what you saw. She confided in you! You had a good time. Maybe you really can have a life.

*

I got up really early on Sunday and reviewed the notes from my four courses. I was surprised at how decent they were, even if I couldn’t remember being at the lectures. If I focused, I could be in good shape for finals.

*

The front page of the student paper was Carol’s photo, the goalie splayed out in a vain attempt to stop what turned out to be the score that ended our team’s chances for the NCAAs. When I got to Ruth’s I taped the paper to the wall next to the board and circled Carol’s photo credit in red magic marker.

I hung around all afternoon. Every time the door opened I sneaked a look but she never appeared. I circulated among those who were there. All of them were nice, but I felt like a wolf, scouting the herd of sheep to decide which one to cull out for the kill.

Haven’t you had enough of this, man? Remember what Ascheim said, maybe you want to just get to know a girl, not fuck her right away.

“Hi Carl,” said Margery as she slid onto the couch next to me. “Haven’t seen you around lately. How’ve you been?”



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 05



"Hi Carl," said Margery as she slid onto the couch next to me. "Haven't seen you around lately. How've you been?"

Five weeks ago Margery had taken my virginity in a fuck-filled night that left me exhausted. We'd parted after breakfast as she promised to "spread the word" about my virility, or perhaps the little squeaky sounds I made as she blew me into a blinding orgasm. Of course I fell in love with her but my roommate Pete cautioned that Margery liked to get around, so I let her go. She became just a friend at the regular Sunday-afternoon club meetings held at the old Victorian house owned by the president, Ruth McGowen.

Since then, the club had provided me with three new lovers and I'd lived for two weeks with one of them. My last "date" had turned me into a quivering mass of psychologically-disturbed doubt that took nearly a week of shrinking to get past. I'd blown off a date with another member of the club but made amends by taking her to a lacrosse game, where she took a photograph with my camera that made the front page of the college paper. We'd agreed to meet again at the club today but she hadn't shown up.

So here was Margery. Again.

"It's been an interesting month," I smiled, awkwardly. "But one good thing was I got to know Ruth a little. She's really nice. And she really cares about us."

"Ruth's kept the club going for a long time," Margery replied, then paused. There was something on her mind.

"Carl, can we talk?"

"Sure. My place or yours?" Dumb and crude, and I regretted it instantly.

"Union. Coffee. Half an hour?"

"Sure." (Phew! She wasn't offended.)

I spotted Margery at a back-of-the-room table. She waved and smiled that smile.

"Tea, right?"

"You remembered."

While we waited for our orders, she mused on the new "talent" that had joined the club since New Year's. "There are so many newbies, they seem to think of the club as a place to post a help-wanted note, nothing more. 

"Pete and I were thinking about how to get everybody more involved, as a club, with each other. We decided to have a potluck picnic like there used to be."

"That sounds great! Pete told me about them, but I've never been to one. They stopped a year ago, right?"

"Yes. They're really a lot of work. But Pete and I think it's worth having one before exams. In fact, we want to have it next Saturday."

"Not much time."

"Plenty of time if we can get a few people to help out."

"Okay, what can I do?"

"Great! I knew you'd pitch in!" and she leaned across the table and kissed me.

The picnic would be, as before, in Ruth's spacious back yard. Every member of the club would be assigned a contribution. A setup committee, a serving committee, and a cleanup committee, totaling 10 individuals, would manage everything. Expenses for paper goods, fuel for the gas grill, ice, and the like would be met by passing the hat.

All the members would be asked to come, as a show of support for Ruth and for the club that was doing so much for them. As always, they would be encouraged to invite potential new members. 

"It surprises me how reluctant people are to reach out to their friends and say, 'hey, there's a group I hang out with that you'd like.' It's not like joining a sorority, we're all too involved in our own worlds for that kind of life. But there are benefits," and she grinned that raffish grin.

Since Thursday was my no-class day, I volunteered to run the assorted errands, picking up what had to be bought or fetched. Margery just happened to have a detailed list in her pocket.

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" I teased.

"I know you well enough," she teased back.

"Wanta eat dinner?"

"Sure."

"Italian?"

"You remembered."

We wrapped up the potluck arrangements conversation and segued into more personal things. She had just landed, as a mere sophomore, a teaching assistantship for next year. If teaching didn't work out, she was thinking of going into publishing, since she read a lot and liked editing other people's work — "and I'm the best fact-checker I know."

I neglected to mention my recent bout of impotence, regaling her instead with tales of my and Cindy's two-week dorm-cleaning stint. Then I picked up her theme of what the club meant to me. 

"For the first time in my life, I'm hanging out with very different people, talking to them, listening to them, instead of being with just my camera, alone and shooting loneliness pictures. I got Carol to go to a lacrosse game and we took action pictures. She's got a real eye for sports photography, much better than mine. Did you see her shot on the front page this morning?"

"That was hers? The rag is improving."

I asked her advice about a major. "I'm thinking about sociology or psychology. I don't really have any passion for them, but they want a decision by the end of finals. I've done well enough in the classes, but . . ."

"Sometimes you pick a major that's like a safety school when you were applying to college. Remember?"

"Oh yeah. God that was awful."

"Well, this isn't nearly as bad. You stay in the College of Liberal Arts, you're safe. It's the skills you develop that matter. How you handle language, how you communicate your interest to others. You're good at that. You've made a lot of friends in the club, everybody likes you. Even Ruth, who's not easily impressed."

We finished dinner around seven and I signaled the waiter for the check, pulling out my student union debit card. Margery put her hand over the card. "Dutch," she said.

*

The spring light was fading when we arrived at my apartment. I ogled her ass as she climbed the stairs ahead of me. We sat on the couch and eyed each other.

I moved toward her and kissed her neck, holding myself in check. Her fingers in my hair and her hand moving slowly up my thigh encouraged my mouth to move to her lips and my hands to her breasts. She sighed as I tweaked the nipple of her left breast and she stroked my cock through my pants.

"C'mon, we need room," I said. "I'm not going to dump you on the floor like last time." She giggled.

I locked my door and we slow-motion came together, kissing and fumbling. When we broke for air, I knelt and slowly undid the closest sneaker, rolled off her sock, and took her big toe in my mouth.

"Oh! That's, that's, oh my," she said, and held onto my shoulder for balance. I ran my hands up her thighs, stood, and kissed her hard, passionately. She ground her hips into me.

Back on my knees for the other sneaker, this time I kissed the instep, then blew on the lingering saliva to cool it. My hands trickled up her thighs to the fly of her jeans and I palmed her pussy from the outside as I lowered the zipper.

Popping the button, I dropped her jeans and she stepped out of them. I reached inside her panties, squeezed the receptive cheeks of her ass, and drew them down and off.

Looking up, I saw her neatly trimmed bush. Her heat reached my nostrils as I ran my tongue over my lips. Pulling her hips to my face, I buried my mouth in the fur and sucked her pussy lips. "Oh god, that's sooooo nice," she said softly. I trickled my tongue over her whole mound, slithered in and out of the lips, and sucked them again.

She pulled my head hard into her pussy and writhed against my face. She lost her balance and fell backwards onto the bed, with her legs spread and open. "Don't you dare stop!" she husked.

Now it was my grin that was raffish.

I resumed roaming her pussy, fluttering my tongue to release her clitoral button as she squealed and jerked against me. 

"Oh god, I'm going to cum! I'm gonna cum! YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM!" and her juices squirted, suddenly, all over my face.

I persisted. Having caused this first climax, I didn't want to lose my momentum. I inhaled her clit and sucked its tip. 

"Oh my godddddddddd!" she yelled as she practically levitated off the edge of the bed. I was so tight into her that I was yanked along.

When she came down I slid my middle finger into her and twirled it. She moaned as she slowly tightened her thighs against my head. The more I moved my finger, the tighter that grip got. She bucked against my face and came again, but quietly.

She came down slowly. I knew she was back on earth when she started stroking my earlobe. 

"Oh Carl, Carl, Carl, that was good, so good."

I was exhilarated. Margery had taken me to heaven for my first time and now I had pushed her skyward. 

"God you are a good man," she panted as my face moved to hers.

"And you are a very sexy woman," I said, and stuck my tongue into her mouth. We pulled each other close and kissed till we ran out of air.

Standing, I pulled her up. "Let's get naked."

"Oh you say the sweetest things," she teased.

Our hands collided as I reached for her blouse and hers headed for my polo. We laughed and entwined our arms as we undid each other. "Arms up," she said, and lifted my shirt off.

Then she sucked MY nipple with HER lips! She held my torso against her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue, making that useless thing hard and my cock harder.

What little presence of mind I had left I used to finish unbuttoning her blouse and reach around to unclasp her bra. She stepped back and shrugged everything off, then pounced on my pants.

Belt-button-zipper, they were at my feet. I tried to pull my sneakers through but couldn't, then lost MY balance and topped past her, landing face down on the bed.

"Now I gotcha!" she said triumphantly and she spanked me playfully, then kissed the redness. Swiftly untying the laces, she yanked my sneakers off, completing my exposure.

She hopped onto the bed and I rolled onto my side to face her. My cock met her tufted pussy and I reached for her proffered breasts, and suckled.

"Oh yes, so soft, you're so soft," which certainly wasn't true about my cock, which she was stroking rhythmically. I was getting really excited but didn't want to cum that way.

"C'mon cowgirl, ride me, I really like the view," I panted.

"Good horsey, nice —" and the rest was lost as she took my cock into her mouth for lubrication. Satisfied, she popped off, mounted my hips and bent me just enough to get us joined.

"Off to the races! C'mon Carl, let's sprint!" This was no slow-gaited trail ride, she wanted to gallop. I tried for her breasts but she was moving too fast, so I held onto her hips and met her thrust for thrust.

Her hair was loose and flew around as she swung her head and torso frantically. I pumped in and out of her pussy like never before, struggling to keep up as her pelvis banged against me and she twirled herself around my stiffness.

Then she exploded!

"God yes! I'm cumming cumming cumming! Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK MEEEE!" She was right on top of me, balancing herself on her hands as she pole-danced around my cock.

"I'm gonna cum too, oh Marg—" and I blasted two weeks of accumulated sperm into her, mindlessly pumping my cock in and out.

She collapsed onto me and I held her as tight as I'd ever held anything in my life. We struggled for air, slowly recovering.

As she gave my softening cock a pleasant squeeze with her pussy walls, she rolled us onto our sides and delivered a fierce kiss.

"Goddamn Carl, that was heaven! I haven't fucked like that in I don't know how long."

"Well, I can say I've NEVER been fucked like that. You're a tiger! You should have seen yourself when you were bouncing on top of me! Your breasts smacked your chin as you rode up and down. It was spectacular!"

My soften cock slid out of her and I felt that pang of loss. She must have felt something similar as she sighed. 

"Stay still, I'll get a cloth," I said softly, pecking her on the lips. By the time I got back, she was under the covers, snoring softly. I swabbed the blanket and pulled back the sheets so I could gently clean her thighs and pussy. She stirred, dreamily murmured "nice," and drifted off. I spooned her and drifted away myself.

*

Having your balls tickled by your lover's tongue is a nice way to be woken up. My not disinterested cock lay off to one side as Margery worked her way across my scrotum to its base. She slowly chased the cockhead as it mounted skyward. Maybe ten minutes later, as I luxuriated in her kissing and licking, she had turned it into a tower of power.

I glanced at the clock: 1:15.

To keep up with my swiftly-rising cockhead, Margery had to shift her body and now her chest was closer to my hands. I tickled and twisted her nipples and was rewarded with "ummmmmm" as she moved along. She took my erection into her mouth and squeezed the head with her lips, then licked all around. Ummmmm.

"I want you," I whispered in her ear.

"Slowly, please, I'm a little sore," she whispered back.

Rolling her into position, I steadied myself on all fours and began kissing her neck. I moved to her shoulders, then back to her earlobes. Slowly I invaded her ear with my tongue, and she moaned.

She opened her legs as I slid between them to work her breasts from below. My chest felt the warmth and moisture of her pussy as I alternately licked and tweaked her nipples.

"Harder, please, pull it, oh there, that's it, I like that," she said about my efforts on her left nipple. "It's too sensitive, just lick, use your mouth, no not your teeth, there, now suck, yesssss" on her right one. 

As I moved aside to work on her pussy, she shifted to open herself as wide as possible, bending her outside leg up and away. The moonlight glanced off the wetness of her vaginal lips as I lubricated my finger in her moisture. She was stroking my hair and letting out those soft moans I loved to hear as I sought her clit with my tongue.

It had already pushed aside the folded skin so I sucked it completely into my mouth, holding it steady with my lips, and ever-so-gently tongued the shaft and then the head.

"Ohhhhh, yessssss, god so good, so gooooood, so goddamned gooood," she moaned as she humped against my face. I tried to hold onto her hips as she started, but she shook me off. She clamped my face to her and swiveled her hips left and right, then up and down before gradually settling back onto the bed, sweating and panting.

She wasn't there five seconds before my moistened cockhead slipped into her. "Oh thank god you're there, I really need this, I need your fucking," she urged, calling my reserves of strength up from somewhere.

No further encouragement was required for me to stroke deep, then slowly slide almost out, then deeply in, again and again, but as slow as I could. I was intent on her face, which at first was peaceful but which slowly took on a predatory cast as licked her lips. 

"Umpf, umpf, yessss, that's good, slow, go slow" gave way to "it's okay to go faster, there, yessssss, a little more, yessss."

Her heels suddenly clamped me to her and the bucking was a shot of adrenalin to my cock. "I'm gonna cum! You'll have me all over you if —" I started to say, but she jammed her mouth on mine and sucked my tongue into her even as she pulled me off my precarious balance and onto her.

I came, hard, again and again, unrestrained, gushing out from some hidden reservoir. Just as I finished she humped me practically through the roof and started her own climax of grunting, repeating "oh yeah! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Every inch of her radiated heat.

On television I'd watched trainers walking Kentucky Derby horses after they won the race, cooling them down from the high of the sprint. I couldn't do that here, but I did lie next to her and stroked her face, her belly, and her thighs after I pulled out. 

"Do you do this to all your lovers?" she croaked.

"If I did, I think I'd be long dead," I replied, not completely untruthfully.

"Well, good, let's keep it our little secret. Do you have an early class tomorrow?"

"Eleven. You?" 

"Free day. Good. I need to pee." As we got up, she looked at the bed. 

"These sheets are soaked, we've probably soaked the mattress pad too." While she was peeing, I stripped the bed and was glad to find that the pad was barely damp, so I rotated it and remade the bed with fresh sheets.

Margery came back with a big pitcher of water, two glasses, and a hand towel. I puzzled at the towel.

"We're both dehydrated, so we need the water. And if I'm recalling the last four hours correctly, there's going to be so much cum leaking out of me that neither one of us will be comfortable sleeping on it, so I'm going to put this under me." 

We lay back against the headboard, thigh to thigh, drinking. A couple of times she looked down and showed me just how much had leaked out of her pussy. She was right.

She wanted to talk some more about the club. "It's getting to be too much for Ruth, I can tell. She's been a great den mother but she's thirty-eight now and not married. I know she has enough money to keep going, but there's no guy in her life." 

"Nobody?" I couldn't imagine being without.

"She's very discreet about her personal life, but I've never seen evidence of a guy. Never."

She took a deep breath, then exhaled. "The club saved me. I came here three years ago, a nice conservative Catholic virgin from upstate, intent on being the next Frederick Jackson Turner. 

"Within two weeks I'd dumped the 'Catholic' part — the chaplain said mine was the second-fastest loss of faith he'd seen in twenty years! And within a month I got rid of the 'virgin' and pretty quickly acquired a huge case of gonorrhea and two STIs from several guys I'll never remember during a three-night marathon at some fraternities one weekend. The treatments were degrading and miserable. I sank into such a depression that I failed every one of my courses.

"My parents were stunned when I told them I'd flunked out. 

"They made me get a job. I got to be pretty good at bagging groceries and restocking shelves.

"Five months of being bossed around and hit on by the manager, a guy I'd loathed in high school, plus the fact that I had to pay room and board at home, convinced me I wanted to go back to school. However, since I'd failed every one of my first-semester courses, my chances for readmission were probably less than zero.

"One day, out of the blue, mom announced that she'd made an appointment for me with the parish priest. I flipped!

" 'Are you nuts? He's a man who wears a dress! His Latin is awful! He stinks of cigarettes! He's probably fucking the housekeeper, but if not he's buggering the choir boys! What use can he possibly be to me?' 

"She let me finish my rant, then smiled. 'His brother is the assistant dean of the faculty at the university.' 

"Father Harrigan was unruffled. For a small-town priest, he was surprisingly understanding of my turmoil. 'My child, I remember you were always reading. You have a mind that deserves to learn. I believe you can succeed at the university. Will you let me help you?' "

"They re-admitted me with the same financial aid package and started me out all over again as a 19-year old freshman. I had to sign a contract to maintain a B average, report weekly to a faculty advisor, and limit my social life to essentially nothing for the first year.

"I hit the books like a woman possessed and pulled straight A's the first semester. But there was something missing.

"One February afternoon I showed up for my regular session with Dr. Schwarzkopf, my geezer faculty advisor, at his house. He was in bed with a nasty cold, so his wife invited me for chicken soup in her kitchen. It wasn't ten minutes before I was blubbering my loneliness to this grandmotherly woman. 

" 'David didn't have the heart to be the disciplinarian with our children, he knows too much about teenagers and college students than to enforce that part of the contract. You should ask him.' "

" 'I'm afraid, Dotty' (she asked me to call her "Dotty"). I can't mess this up. But I am so lonely.' "




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 05



" 'And horney?' she smiled."

"I gasped. She was reading my mind. I blurted 'Yes! God I miss c—' I caught myself before I said it."

" 'Cock?' "

"I was blushing so much. 'Companionship,' I stammered, but she dismissed the evasion with a wave of her hand."

" 'You're not the first girl around here to discover she's got a high sex drive, dear. And you're not the first to have to deal with it when you have other severe demands on you as well. 

" 'Daniel had a protégé who was killed several years ago, and his widow is involved in a lovely group of students whose situation is much the same as yours. Call her and say Dotty sent you.' She gave me Ruth's phone number.

"Ruth listened as I spilled out every single sordid detail of my story. 'What do you want out of your college life?' she asked when I was finished."

" 'I'm doing really well academically. I am going to be a professor, a serious scholar. I'll get a Phi Beta Kappa key, have my pick of graduate schools, get a really good job, and . . .' I drifted."

" 'And you want more?' "

" 'Yes.' "

" 'A boyfriend? A husband?' "

" 'Someday. Yes, sure, who doesn't? But not now, I couldn't handle it. I know myself, that's what got me in trouble before. I don't know, I'm just, just, just, so LONELY,' I wailed that last word really hard and started to cry."

"Ruth waited, considering me, I think deciding whether what she was about to say would send me running. 'Margery, there is a group of students who come by this house every Sunday afternoon. They hang out, get to know each other for the purpose of enjoying each other's company. They're very much like you. Would you like to come by on Sunday, after one?' "

" 'Thank you, that's very nice of you to offer. I'd really like to, but I'm working on this paper for my sociology class, it's due in two weeks.' I was lying, it was due at the end of the semester, and I already knew that it wouldn't take me more than two days to write it.

" 'Make a couple of hours for yourself, Margery. Dotty says you deserve it. I think she's right.' "

"So I went that Sunday. Ruth introduced me around. I knew one of the girls from that disastrous semester. Ruth called that evening to tell me that I was invited to join her club. We met again and she told me everything. 

"I was stunned! It was the perfect solution! I took the STD test and got back on the pill.

"I'd have gone nuts, probably done something stupid again, if it wasn't for the club. Even if it's purely selfish, I can't let this go. And I think there are 50 others who'd say the same thing, if they knew what the situation is."

Then we touched.

Then we kissed.

Then we kissed passionately.

"Make love to me, Carl. I want to sleep, but I want to sleep well-fucked."

I slid between her legs, kissing her belly as I ran my cock up and down her opening. She moaned and I felt her wet pussy lips opening for me. I slipped in on an upstroke, just a little way, then out, then in some more. She pushed her hips to me and pulled my chest to hers as I languidly pumped my hips against hers.

It really was lovemaking, not fucking. I kept it slow and felt her pussy muscles seeking to stabilize my cock. When they had me I just rotated my cock inside her. Once I spasmed my whole organ against her and she gasped, but I couldn't find a way to get that reaction again.

Her pussy muscles relaxed and freed my cock to resume pumping. I gradually upped my speed as we called each other nice names. And then we came, almost at the same time.

As I finished I realized she'd fallen asleep. I gently pulled out, pulled the sheet over us, and fell asleep behind her.

*

Normally I sleep through sunrise, since the window in my room faces south. And I would have done that this morning except that Margery was sucking my cock. She'd gotten me pretty hard by the time I blinked my eyes open.

She popped off and grinned at me. "G'morning, sunshine," she said, then resumed her enthusiasm with my cock. I felt my balls tingle and my scrotum tighten.

"I'm close, oh god, I'm —" and I blasted what little cum I had left from last night into her mouth. She swallowed and moved up to lay her head on my shoulder. We kissed and I tasted me.

"That is such fun! You should have seen your expression when you realized what was happening!"

I kissed her. "Wanna stay in bed all day?"

"You have an eleven o'clock class, remember?"

"I have an insatiable woman in my bed. That trumps a lecture."

"You're sweet. But I have things I've got to do. I have a system for getting ready for finals. If I keep at it, there's no rush at the end."

"You're right. I've got to start on my papers this afternoon. In addition to everything else, you make me a better student."

"Carl, I need a favor from you."

"Sure, I'm yours all day Thursday, Saturday if you need me."

"Oh, it's not about the picnic. I've, eh, overbooked a little bit."

"How can I help?"

"Well, I have this cousin who's doing a tour of the various campuses of the university, to figure out which one she wants to go to. She has to decide by the end of next week. Three weeks ago I committed to show her around this weekend. She's coming Thursday night staying with me but I've got to devote Friday and Saturday to the picnic.

"She's got an interview with the admission department in the morning and she's taking the campus tour right afterward, but by noon she'll be done."

"Perfect! My last class starts at noon. I'll take her there, we'll eat lunch, we'll walk around, and then we'll catch up with you."

"Thanks, Carl," and she squeezed my cock. "You're a good friend as well as a great fuck."

*

I called Gene, my roommate for next year, and told him we were invited to this pot-luck picnic. I'd selected him as a roommate partly because I though he'd be a good fit for the club. He declined. 

"Thanks, Carl, but it's more than I can handle this weekend. I've got to study, do laundry, clean my room, a thousand things are going on. But thanks anyway."

"C'mon Gene, just drop by. Bring a six-pack of Sprite. No pressure. I'll introduce you." Finally he agreed to drop by. I made a mental note to call him Saturday morning to confirm.

This recruitment stuff is tough. What's wrong with these people? I'm offering them a chance to meet girls.

*

Ruth loaned me her car on Thursday to run the errands on Margery's assignment sheet. I was back at her house by two, unloaded everything, and put things away. I left the car in the driveway and hung the keys on the peg near the back door.

*

Margery must have given my cell number to her cousin, so when I saw the unaccustomed number I figured it was her.

"Tired out from the tour?" I teased.

"This place is HUMONGOUS!" 

"Did they show you Tucker Hall?"

"Sure. I'm just down the street from it."

"Good. My class is there at noon. Meet me in front. How will I recognize you?"

"As far as I can tell, I'm the only female in a pink blouse without books on this entire campus. I'll stand to the left of the main entrance."

She was dressed to impress her interviewer, in a tartan skirt besides the pink blouse, and sandals. 

"I'm Carl," I said, extending out my hand.

"Recognize you from Facebook. Julia," she said, taking it.

There were a couple of extra seats in the classroom. I introduced Julia to the professor, slipping in that she was a prospective student. 

Professor Coffin was normally pretty outgoing, but she upped the wattage for the occasion. Her presentation was even more vigorous than usual, her Socratic questioning was even more insightful, and her wrap-up ended with an enthusiastic "Have a great weekend!" Afterward she came over to Julia.

"I hope you'll consider us. It's a great school."

"Is the entire faculty this animated?" Julia's eyes were wide. 

"Oh, I did get a little show-offy, didn't I? Well, yes, we do take our teaching seriously here."

*

We took our sandwiches to a warm spot on the stone wall behind the union. 

"Tell me about your college tour. I never did one," I asked.

"You didn't go around to campuses when you were deciding?"

"No. I wanted to get as far away from home as I could, and this is the place. I'd never been in this part of the state when I arrived."

"I want to be a doctor, or maybe a vet, and this is the campus with both a med school and a veterinary school. My guidance counselor insisted I visit the other campuses, so I've been to all of 'em, out of courtesy, but this seems like what I want.  

"But it's so BIG, so crowded. My whole town would fit in a corner of just the campus. How do you get used to it?"

"I'm from the suburbs, so it doesn't really faze me. Anyway, I got to know the town because I go around taking pictures." I pulled my pocket camera out and showed her. "I've probably shot 10,000 photos of this town and the campus. There are times when I think I know this place, then it surprises me when I find something new."

"Do you know where the ag school is?"

"It's way out of town. I've never been there. Wanna go?"

"Sure, but how can —"

"I'll see if I can borrow a car." I dialed Ruth, who said sure, take mine, you know where the keys are.

*

The classroom buildings and dorms were twenty-five minutes from campus, but the farms were past them, and that's what Julia really wanted to see.

We spent three hours poking around the barns and fields. She wasn't exactly dressed for it, but if getting mud on her sandals bothered her, she didn't show it.

We brazened our way into a couple of the barns and she got into farm talk with the manager. Hay, silage, crop rotation, drought, pasture, manure pits, milk truck scheduling, price supports, crazy environmentalists who don't understand anything, damn city people buying abandoned places — it got pretty intense. 

Of course I was shooting everything. I ran out of space on my spare card and had to delete some stuff, but neither Julia nor the farm guy seemed to care, or even notice.

As we were leaving, Julia asked if there was somewhere she could wash off. The manager laughed and took us over to the milk shed. 

There must have been a hundred cows, all crapping into pits as the machines milked them. The stench was awful. There was a spigot by the front door and Julia hosed down her sandals and legs like it was normal. She got a few splatters on her skirt and cursed softly under her breath. I was much more careful as I washed most of the mud off my sneakers. 

As we drove back to campus, she was ecstatic.

"This is GREAT! You suburban boys wouldn't understand, but they are really modern. And so efficient! They actually must make money off of farming! And did you hear they don't use antibiotics on the cows but actually pasture them? Oh I am so gonna like going to school here!"

Julia called Margery to say she was going to her dorm room to change. We agreed to meet for dinner at the union. Italian.

*

"This is IT! Mom's gonna flip. I know she wants me to get away from the farm, and maybe I will, but wow, the ag school is really progressive. The FFA kids have never seen anything like this!"

"FFA?" Margery and I said in unison.

"Future Farmers of America, it's our high school's biggest club, except for the football boosters."

As we chatted over dinner, I studied Julia. She had changed out of her best-impression outfit into jeans and a black t-shirt. "T.G.I.F." it said, "Thank God I Farm." 

She was no buxom farm wench. Slightly taller than Margery, Julia had a thin, coltish body with long legs. Her brown hair was parted down the middle and framed her oval face and shoulders. Her chest was small and what I could see of it was freckled, on her shoulders and throat. Her arms were already tanned, even though spring had barely sprung. 

After dinner (Margery insisted on paying), I headed back to the apartment to sort the day's photos. Julia's Facebook page had several okay shots, but she was in a group and I wanted to do a portrait. There was this one photo, where I'd caught her in animated conversation with the barn manager. I cropped him out, fixed some of the lighting and color, enlarged it, and put it at the end of the file. I copied the best shots, maybe fifty, onto a stick so that I could give them to her.

*

Gene was being wishy-washy about coming to the picnic when I called Saturday morning, but I pointed out that it was going to be a GLORIOUS day, it was free food, and there would be girls there. I gave him the directions again and he promised to come.

By 11:30 I'd stowed my books in the apartment and was at Ruth's house. The sweet smell of new-mown grass hung in the air. Pete and Margery were going full throttle, humping tables around, moving the furniture in the kitchen, the living room, and the dining room. The magnetic board was gone from the kitchen wall.

Julia was already there, but she and I were firmly excused, since the whole point of having an arrangements crew was for THEM to participate in the picnic. But a slight commotion ensued when it was discovered that there wasn't enough ice on hand. Pete tossed Ruth's keys to me. "Ice machine's —"

"Did a day's shoot there last year, got it. How many bags?"

"Six, no, eight may be better."

"C'mon Julia, let's make ourselves useful."

The ice machine I knew about had been vandalized. The nearby deli sold ice, but they wanted a fortune. We drove around for a while and finally found a store with reasonable prices.

It was almost two when we got back. "What'd you do, go to the Arctic for this stuff?" Pete grumped. 

"Nope," Julia said. "We shopped. No point in being exploited by the man."

Only four members didn't show up: two had been excused during the week, and the others were very infrequent participants in the club anyway. Maybe 60 people passed through, what with members and their friends.

Ruth was the ever-gracious host. I could see her making mental notes about the strangers, and she made a point of introducing many of them to me. I figured they were either her pick-ups from the library or someone a member had brought. I saw her sit for a couple of intimate, one-on-one conversations, and she gave a couple of quick tours of her home.

I ate too many brats and actually drank a beer. I introduced Gene to Pete and Margery, and probably to a quarter of the members as well. He seemed dazzled.

And I developed a serious crush on Julia.

She was wearing a too-large striped man's dress shirt tucked into cutoff jeans, with the sleeves rolled up. Her long hair was pulled into a lush ponytail that swayed with a wiggle when she walked. When one of the serving crew flaked out, she pitched in, unbidden, taking bags of trash away and putting new liners in the barrels. She circulated like she belonged here, ate brats, picked up abandoned cups and plates, even scooped up spilled food from the grass. She visited easily with people she didn't know but didn't push herself forward. And her smile would have lit up half the downtown.

Once things had gotten going, Pete and Margery were free to circulate. They too clearly were on the prowl, trolling for recruits. I could see them making mental notes about possibilities. Margery turned on the charm with both sexes, while Pete worked the guys.

Things were winding down by 5:30 when the four of us looked at each other.

"I am really beat," said Pete.

"Me too," said Margery. 

"BURRRP!" said Julia, putting her hand to her mouth and blushing furiously.

"Alright, let's go home," I commanded.

Pete was dragging as we climbed the stairs. Julia headed for the bathroom and I went for Sprites from the fridge. When I returned, Pete and Margery were draped groggily on the couch. A perky Julia came in, glugged her Sprite, and looked at her cousin. 

"You look hammered, Marg, and you've all —" she swept her hand to include all of us — "got some sunburn. Carl, you got any skin lotion?"

"Me? No." I thought for a moment. "But I do have some Noxema. Will that work?"

"Perfect." I hustled into my room and came back with the blue jar.

"Okay. You guys shoulda used some sunblock when you saw how bright it was today. You live on a farm, you learn this stuff." She kept on like this as she applied the cream to each of our faces, arms, and upper chests.

"There," she said, as she stepped back and admired her handiwork. 

By now, Pete had crashed, and Margery wasn't far behind. Julia shook her awake, and she in turn poked Pete, then stood up and grabbed his arm.

"You're done, kiddo. Time to sleep it off," and she steered him toward his door. As she turned to close it behind her, she shot Julia a wink.

"Want to see the photos from yesterday?" I asked, gesturing toward my room. I opened the door and waved her in.

"Oh yeah, you were taking pictures, weren't you? I got so talky with the barn guy I guess I was oblivious. Anything good?"

"I'm hurt," I said, opening my laptop. Sitting with her on my bed, I clicked to the "Ag School" folder and passed the machine to her.

It had been a sunny day, so the fields, the barns, and the buildings were really sharp. Even the indoor shots were bright. I'd made an effort to get shots of cows dumping their loads, thinking they'd gross her out, but Julia thought they were pretty cool. 

The last image was the one I'd cropped, of her. 

"Oh. Oh my. It's, really, that's really, beautiful," she stammered. 

"It's you."

After maybe ten more seconds staring at the picture, she snapped the laptop shut, placed it on the floor, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me deeply. We fell back on the bed.

I rolled her on top of me and held her hips in place with my thighs. She shoved her tongue into my mouth and moaned deeply when I shoved back. I pulled her ass cheeks into my burgeoning erection.

We were gasping for air when we broke. I released her hips and she slid off.

"Nobody ever did anything like that for me. You made me look attractive and interesting, not like some frumpy FFA'er."

"You are what you see, and you're beautiful." I pecked her lips. 

"Keep doing that," she ordered, and pecked me back.

I shifted over her and leaned in. She pulled me to her face and we kissed some more. My cock was in full erection, straining against my pants, which is why I didn't want to engage her hips again.

When we broke, I moved my lips to her neck, just under her jaw, and licked. She shivered and squeaked a soft "oh" in a very encouraging way. I kissed toward her ear, getting more "oh"s as her hands gently pulled on my shoulders.

When I flicked her earlobe, her moan was longer and came from deeper in her throat. My darting tongue into her ear brought a girlish squeal of glee.

By now her shirttails were out of her cutoffs, allowing my hand access to her belly. I caressed all the way across, feeling such cool smooth skin that my cock must have grown another twelve inches. Her deepening moans led me to tickle-walk back and then under her shirt toward her breasts. 

No bra! I'd have sworn she was wearing a bra.

I hadn't seen much cleavage when she had her pink blouse on, but her t-shirt last night gave me some idea of a couple of decent melons. What I felt was large apples, and a very stuff nipple. I tweaked it, gently I thought, but she jerked away with a squeak.

She sat up, puffing like a sprinter who'd just finished a race, and smoothed her shirt.

"I've never done this, gone this far."

"It's okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to," I said, and meant it, mostly.

"No, it's not that, I just have, I have to tell you something," she panted.

I waited.

"I swore, in tenth grade, that I would go to college. The fastest way to screw that up is to get pregnant. The simplest way to avoid getting pregnant is not to have sex. But I didn't want guys telling stories that I'm a lezzie either. So I've kept my reputation by not messing around very much."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 05



"That's okay, Julia, I understand," I said, feeling glum.

"Well, today, right here, right now, I AM at college! And RIGHT NOW I'm REALLY going to mess around!"

With that, she launched herself at me, shoved her face into mine, kissing me like it was her last chance in life. To emphasize the point, she also grabbed my cock and squeezed it. I got the message.

I wanted her breasts so badly! My hands shot under her shirt and lifted it up. She helped by letting go of my cock, sitting up, and raising both arms. The shirt was quickly off and tossed somewhere.

"Oh god, you have such lovely breasts."

"Tits. On the farm we call them tits. And yes they are. On the small side, but nice. I really like them," she said, and to prove it she cupped them and did a little shimmy dance, licking her lips as she swayed her hips and body.

I pushed one of her hands away and pulled her chest to my face. She moaned as I sucked it into my mouth, assaulting the nipple with my tongue and teeth. Her moan got deeper as she touched my face.

Soon she lifted her ass and started wiggling out of her cutoffs. I caught up with her panties which were quickly down her legs and over her sandals. Those she flipped off, then moved onto all fours, naked, with her lioness's tits swinging free.

With lust in her eyes.

"C'mon Carl, it's me or your modesty." I hesitated whether to go for my belt or my shirt buttons, but Julia was on my shirt first, making it awkward for me to undo my pants. I was fumbling with the zipper when she pulled the shirt open and off me.

"Nice tits," she said, tweaking one with her thumb and forefinger.

She pulled my pants to my knees, then shifted to my sneakers, which she untied and had off in seconds. She yanked my pants off, leaving me in my jockeys. I pushed them down and away, leaving me naked on my back with my cock sticking straight up, hungering for her.

She sat on my hips and squealed when I pulled her down and assaulted her mouth and ground my erection into her. Then I flipped her over and zoomed in on her tangled mass of pussy hair, foraging for her pussy lips. I found them and began licking. With the permission of her squeal and a sharp intake of breath, I fluttered my tongue, then began lapping slowly from bottom to top.

"Oh yeah! That is SOOO good!" She pulled my head tight against her pussy, pinning me with little room to move.

"Julia, please," I gasped from between her legs, "you've got to let me loose, I've got things to do, please." 

"What am I supposed to do with my hands?" She whined.

I like to talk during sex. But when you're eating pussy it's hard to hold up your end of the conversation. If I pulled away and gave her a rundown on what was going to happen next, it would be a mood killer.

"Play with my hair" — lap, lap "— Pull my ears" —  lap, suck, lap "— Tell me if I'm turning you on" — lap, lap, lap.

My tongue was tiring and my neck hurt when I realized that she hadn't said anything in a while, nor had I felt her hands. I glanced up and found that she was sprawled on the bed, breathing really deeply, obviously enthralled by the sensation of being eaten. I moved my index finger around the lips and just barely inside.

"Oh my. Yesss. Yesssssss." Suddenly animated, she began moving her hips. I moved to the folded skin above her opening, finding the bump of her clit under its hood, and teased it free. 

Just as I was moving in for more tongue action, Julia bucked slightly two or three times, then suddenly hard. "Oh god! Oh god! It's so good! You're making me cum! Oh god! Oh god! I'm cumming! I'm CUMing!" She humped faster and faster and I rode along with her, swirling my finger as I moved it in and out. 

She settled back onto the bed, gasping for air. When she was cumming her face was scrunched into fiery concentration, but now it had this huge grin. 

"You just did WUN-DER-FUL things to me," she purred. "Do some more, please."

My cock was aching to be in her, but I didn't want to blow my load too soon. I decided to test for her hymen, see how tough it was going to be to get inside her.

"Open you legs, I'm going to go at you again."

"Oh good, I like that."

I worked her pussy with my mouth for a while, then brought my middle finger into play. I was about a knuckle-and-a-half inside when I felt an obstruction, and also felt her tense.

"Okay?"

"You hit it, didn't you?"

"Yes. Could you feel it?"

"More like you got into a really tight spot, so you couldn't go forward. It doesn't hurt. C'mon Carl, let's get this over with. I am so hot, now that you made me cum!"

I re-inserted my face between her legs and really slobbered her pussy lips. She moaned in pleasure as I spread her thighs and got between them.

"Pull your knees up."

She did, and I spread them, giving me maximum access to her.

"Are you sure you want —" I started to ask.

"Shut UP!" She paused, then "Please. Yes, I want to, NOW, c'mon, do it!"

"Okay, guide me," and I pressed my cock toward her opening. She grabbed the shaft and pulled it forward. Leaning over her, I suspended myself on my hands and moved forward.

My cockhead was inside her.

"Okay, that's fine, keep going."

I pushed a little more, and she let go of my shaft and grabbed my shoulders. "You're there, c'mon, oh god this is —" and I pushed once more.

I didn't really feel anything, but Julia's eyes flew open. "YEOUCH!" I held steady and waited. 

"You're in, Carl, you're in. God it feels nice, so nice."

I wanted to make sure she was comfortable with me, even if it was only part way. When she seemed okay, I withdrew a millimeter and she screeched "NO! STAY INSIDE ME!"

"I will, I'm just getting oriented," I soothed, and pushed, slowly, back into her. 

"Ooooh, that's SOOOO much better."

It took a couple of slow in-and-outs to get all the way inside, because her pussy walls clutched my cock so tightly, tighter than anything I'd ever experienced. And the feeling of having a cock inside her must have required some getting used to as well.

I pulled back again, then in. She moaned and for the first time pushed back against me.

"That's it, come and meet me. There, yes, oh god, your pussy is soooo good around my cock. Squeeze my cock! Dance with me!"

I was rapidly losing control. I desperately wanted to make her cum this first time, but animal lust took over and I began pumping and pumping, even as I tried to keep in sync with her humping. I felt my climax getting near.

"I'm gonna cum, I feel it, I'm gonna cum! HERE IT IS!" and I started blasting into her virginity.

She shoved back vigorously against my thrusts. "I feel it! Oh god you are cumming! I feel you! Oh cum! Cum! Cum IN ME! I want it all! CUMMMMM!" 

A second volley, then a third, even a feeble fourth, followed. Finally I collapsed onto her and clasped her sweaty chest to mine. We gulped air as we held each other tight. 

As our breathing returned to normal, and still holding her, I rolled to the side, to take my weight off of her. I kissed the sweat off her face, from that beatific smiling face.

"Did I just do what I think I did?" She asked, shyly.

"It had better have been you," I panted. We lay still for a while, then, "Oh Carl, that was so nice. You are so sweet. I didn't feel much pain at all. It's like you didn't break anything, just pushed it aside."

My cock had softened as we talked, and now it slid out.

"Wonderful warrior, you're the best, I hope I was good to you," she whispered to my cock. I knew that because she was caressing its limp slickness as she spoke.

"I am so glad we are lovers," I murmured.

"I am too," she murmured back, giving my cock a loving squeeze as she took my face in her hands and gently kissed me. 

Soon, as new lovers do, we kissed again and began a new round of touching. Since there was no uncertainty about where we were going, we took our time and bantered back-and-forth as we explored each other.

"Tell me about freckles," as I kissed my way across her chest and shoulders. 

"Mine? Or somebody else's?"

"Well, these —" I pecked her a couple of times —"are the examples at hand. Did you come by them honestly?"

"You bet! Hard work in the fields! When you sweat enough that your t-shirt's a see-through, you can get sunburn."

"Same thing on your ass?"

"Don't know. Never had a chance to look there. I need help doing that. You interested?"

She flipped onto her belly and I knelt between her legs, then pulled her ass up so I could closely inspect the twin orbs. After running my lips across every inch of them, I sighed deeply, in defeat.

"The plastic surgeon did a magnificent job. Not a trace. But the sun may have gotten further down. I need to check," and I moved my mouth between her legs, to lick her thighs and pussy from behind. She squealed and pushed her ass against my face.

A few minutes later, as her sighs increased and her breathing deepened, I reported: "I've found some evidence, but I have to look into the situation further." My finger entered her pussy.

"Oh god, oh, oh . . . oh yes, I'm sure they're there somewhere, keep search —" and she bucked against me. My finger swirled and flicked the outer lips and then back in again. I was rewarded when she bucked several times, much harder than before.

"I've found some! It's not that I hate freckles, but aesthetically they need to be erased. I'm going to use my special eraser," and I shifted back just enough to slot my cockhead at her opening.

"Do it! Oh Carl, do it!" I was balls deep in three strokes, each one of which was met by an increasingly urgent thrust of her ass. Once I was seated, I leaned back on my heels and pulled her into a sitting position on my thighs.

"I can play with your tits while you fuck on my cock," I whispered in her ear, moving my hands over both apples. "Ride me Julia! Take off!"

I had thought I would nip at her neck and shoulders to get her going, but she was way ahead of me. She bounced up and down, leaving me with little to do but hold on to her chest for balance and try to catch her clit with the other. But she was moving way too vigorously for me to catch it.

"Ooomfa! Ooomfa! Ooomfa! I'm doing it! It's in me! Wow! Ooomfa! Ooomfa!"

As she neared her climax, I put my palms under her ass at the top of her rise and held her there, barely on the tip of my cock. "NO! DON'T DO THAT! I want him inside!" 

"You've got no leverage. What will you give me if I let you down on him?"

"I'll give you the worst beating you've ever had if you DON'T let me down!" she huffed, breathlessly. To make her point, she shot an elbow into my ribs.

"Ouch!" 

"Right! Now let me down!" She moaned deeply as she sunk to the bottom of my shaft.

As she rose again to the tip of my cock, she seemed primed to throw the elbow again. Instead, I arched my pelvis and impaled her.

"Oh YEAH!" she yelled. "That's GOOD!" We sank down together, then up again. This time I held her not quite at the top and started to pound up into her.

"Ooomfa! Ooomfa! Ooomfa!" We bounced hard against each other. I started blasting and let us down onto the bed. 

"You're cumming! You're cumming! I want it ALL!" she yelled as she landed on me and stayed, swinging her hips around.

And then HER climax hit.

"God you did it! I'm cumming! Cumming! I'M CUMMING! Don't stop! Push it in me! I'M CUMMING!" She slammed her hips around on my cock, then slowed and finally stopped.

We collapsed backwards, my cock still in her, but I was bent at a painful angle. I rolled her off just enough to slide out, then grabbed her waist and pulled her back against me, my cock between her legs as I lay on my side.

As we recovered, Julia shifted so she was facing me. 

She'd lost her clip sometime during the fucking, so her hair was all over, plastered on her sweat-soaked face and her neck. She was flushed and her chest was heaving, pushing her tits up and down irregularly. The cum glistened on her belly and all over her bush.

"I'm not gonna go back home! Heck, I'm not leaving this ROOM! I'm gonna make you my sex slave!

"If you agree, that is." And she kissed me, shoving her tongue into my mouth.

We held each other, sated, and drifted. At some point I heard the toilet flush and remembered that Pete and Margery were in the apartment.

Will she be mad at me for deflowering her cousin? Who seduced whom? Wonder what time it is? 9:30. I need to pee.

I kissed her on the cheek as she stirred. "We need to clean up. I need to pee. Do you?"

"Out behind the barn. Watch out for snakes," she muttered dreamily.

I hadn't locked the door. In fact, I hadn't even closed it completely! I peeked out to see if Pete or Margery were around. Not seeing either one, I zipped into the bathroom, peed, washed myself off, and took the warm cloth back for Julia.

She was sitting against the headboard, regarding her crotch with interest. "It's flowing back out, and making a mess on your blanket."

"It's a great mess, I love it. It cleans up easily," and I swabbed her belly, thighs, and pussy. I got as much of the cum as I could off the blanket, then started for the bathroom to rinse the cloth when she stood up.

"Actually, I do have to pee," and she slipped past me and out the door.

The blood spot wasn't easy to see against the plaid, but it was there. The blanket was no heirloom, just something mom had given me when I left home. Still, there was no point in not cleaning it, so I gathered it up and walked into the bathroom.

"Oh! You startled me," Julia said, blushing, from her seat on the toilet. "Everything okay?"

"Yup. Got a little something that needs to be washed out, though," and I turned on the cold water and started to wet the spot.

"That's from me? Wait, I want to see it." She flipped on the light and held the blanket up. 

"For not much pain, that's a lot of blood," she decided. 

"Wanna keep it as a souvenir?"

"Nope, I just wanted to see what we produced." I got most of the blood and wrung out as much water as I could. We went back to the room and I draped the blanket over my desk chair to dry. This time I pulled the door shut and locked it.

We slipped under the sheets, cuddling and kissing, just because we could.

"Stay with me?"

"I want to wake up with you next to me. Beats dolls any time."

We drifted. At some point I got up and spread the almost-dry blanket over her.



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 06



Falling asleep early means you wake up early. It was 1:30 in the morning and I had this wonderful, naked, just-introduced-to-fucking-five-hours-ago girl asleep next to me. I tip-toed to the bathroom, peed, got a pitcher of water and two glasses, and returned to touch Julia on the shoulder.

"Thirsty?"

"What? Huh? — Oh Carl." She remembered where she was. "Yes, yes, I am, thank you." She sat up and drained two glasses, then smacked her lips.

"That was really nice," I said.

"You have no idea," she yawned and stretched her arms and legs as she moved her thigh against mine. "I feel like I've just started living."

"Wanna make out?" I walked my fingers across her belly toward her pussy.

"Is this how college life is? God I hope so, 'cause I really want to play."

We slid down and faced each other. I stroked in and out while she fondled my balls. I was getting hard and she was getting wet when I had an idea.

"Wanna do it again?"

"Oh yeah. But I'm a little sore. Is there a way where I can do just as much as I can handle?"

"Cowgirl."

"Hey, that's an insult! MY cows come when we whistle."

"Zee poh-zish-un ist called 'cowgirl,' " I intoned. "You vil be on top, you vil rrrrrride me, you vil be ferrrrry much in kontrol."

She swung on top of me, straddling my thighs. "I like the view," she smiled, and wet her lips as she stroked my cock.

"So do I," as I palmed her breasts and humped a little bit. "For starters, you need to wet my cock, so take the end in your mouth and lather it up."

"You won't —"

"Nope. It's easier for you to take it into your pussy when it's wet. And I really like the idea that your mouth is on my cock."

"I bet you say that to all the girls. And I KNOW that's what all the boys say to us girls."

She slid back just enough to get her mouth on my cockhead, then slobbered the first two inches, and popped off.

"Ready."

"Me too. Lift yourself up and slide down on me when you're ready. Hold steady, I'll guide him in. There," and I let go of her hips as she took those two inches into her. 

"It feel okay?"

"Fine, just fine, really fine," and she gradually slid down all the way.

"You can pole-dance me if you like, or lean forward and churn me. Or you can sit there and squeeze me with your muscles."

"Like this?" I felt a slight squeeze.

"That's nice. We're gonna have to practice. How about riding me?"

By now her face was flushing and there was lust in her eyes. She lifted herself, stopped near the tip of my cock, swung her ass around on the tip, then came down.

"Still okay?" I was getting pretty aroused, in no small measure because of the tight grip of her recently virgin pussy.

"Yup, nothin'."

"The let's go cowgirl," and I reached around and slapped her ass.

"Yippee!" and she was off. Up and down she danced, getting more and more animated.

"Swing your hips! Use them against my cock!" She bucked herself against me as she rose and fell.

"Ooomfa! Ooomfa! Ooomfa! Oh you feel so good! Ooomfa! Ooomfa! Ooomfa!"

Mindful of her threat to beat me up if I held her at the top of my cock, I laid my palms on her ass cheeks and let them follow her bouncing. She ignored them until I stopped her at the top of her stroke.

"Swing around on the tip of my cock! Now squeeze me! Make me cum!"

"Oh, I can! I'm gonna getcha!" 

Suddenly I erupted. "Oh god, oh yeah, ohhhhhh goddddddddd, I'm cumming! I'm CUMMING!" She slammed around, practically pretzeling my cock as she did. Then I was pumping white shots into her.

Her climax hit like a hammer. "You've got me! I'm cumming too! It's so goooooood! Ooomfa! Ooomfa! Oh GODDDDDDDD! It's so GOOOOOOOOD!"

There's something about a spent cock in a still-quivering pussy, particularly when the cock is mine, that I love. Julia fell face-first onto me, her chin on my shoulder but her tits were just out of range of my mouth.

As we cuddled and my cock slid out, I tried to recover my wits. It wasn't this wild the first time I did it. Maybe I'm getting a skewed impression of women, but every one I've fucked is wild. Guess I'm just gonna have to practice some more.

I pecked her cheek. "Still sore?"

"Nope. It just went away."

I filled a glass and handed it to her. "Gotta keep your fluids up." We shared it, downed a second one, then leaned against the headboard with our pillows behind our backs.

"When do you have to leave?"

"Bus, at twenty-after-one this afternoon. Before then I have to find a pharmacy that's open."

"There's a 24-hour place downtown. Why?"

"Plan B."

"What's that?"

"Wellllllllll," she stretched it out, "since we didn't use a condom and I'm not on the pill because I didn't plan on having sex this soon, I have to protect myself against getting pregnant."

I'm not on the pill. Ooops.

"P-pregnant?"

"Nope. Miracles of modern science. I do peer counseling at school, I'm gonna be a doctor, remember? I'm trained in this stuff. 'Plan B is very effective if taken up to 72 hours following unprotected intercourse,' " she intoned. 

I just took the virginity of a girl who wasn't protected?

"C'mon Carl, don't look so scared," she laughed. "Plan B works if you take it in time. It'll barely be 12 hours when I do. It's not birth control, it's for situations EXACTLY like this. That's why I could do what I did and not be worried in the least."

I should have asked. What was I thinking?

"Carl, stay with me here. I'm fine. WE'RE fine. You have given me the most astounding experience of my life, and I'll never forget it. I'm not going to screw this up."

I roused out of my fear cloud. "Okay, I hear you. I'm just, well, uh, surprised, I guess."

"Yeah, so am I," she giggled. "I started thinking about this at dinner on Friday night."

"Oh? Why?"

"You were so nice, so 'let's go' about taking me to class and about going to the ag school. Marg says you and she are good friends. She's my guide to the world off the farm. I figured 'hey, I'm here, she's vouching for him — why not?' " I let the compliment sink in.

"Can I ask you something, Carl?"

"Sure."

"Why were you interested in doing it with me?"

"You mean besides the fact that you're beautiful and you knocked me flat on my back on this bed and then attacked me?" I mock-groaned, then got serious. "Because you're just so open, so easy-going, so willing to plunge in and help out. You have a way with people. Like how you picked up that barn manager." She blushed.

"I don't mean 'picked-up' picked up, not that way. I mean you just started talking to him, like you belonged there, you hadn't trespassed. Same way at the picnic. I'm the opposite, I have to force myself. So I fell for you."

"Pshaw! Marg says everyone in your club likes you."

Margery told her about the club?

"Can I ask you something, Julia?"

"Sure, anything."

"You said you'd decided in tenth grade not to have sex. But it's so easy for a girl. Since you know all about protection, why didn't you just, you know, do it? You really like it," and I leered at her.

She hesitated, then plunged forward. "Dad got mom pregnant on their fifth date. They were 17. Kyle, my older brother, wasn't even 17 when he knocked up Miriam. It's what rural people do. I love my niece and nephews, but that's not what I want right now.

"We have 200 acres for dairy cows and some hay. Dad's a farmer, the family's been farmers since the Civil War. And just like it's always been, the first son works the farm with his father. And sons need sons, sooner rather than later, 'cause farming is very hard work.

"Just like his father and grandfather, dad works as a prison guard for the cash money to keep us going during the winter. Kyle's gonna get a guard job when there's an opening.

"It's all we know. I think mom secretly would like to live somewhere else, even though she and Miriam are perfect farmer's wives: three kids, cook, handle the books, up at 5 every morning, the whole thing.

"But Marg and I want to go to college. I don't hate farm life, it's just that there's so much more. And the world is changing, just like farm life is changing. The difference between our milk shed and the one at the ag school is inter-galactic, but it's also so much more expensive. You earn the money back, but you have to have it first, and the banks —"

She stopped, blushing.

"I'm sorry, I got off on a tangent."

"That's okay, it's an amazingly different life from what I know."

"Back to your question. I knew that if I started having sex I'd be knocked up by eleventh grade. I KNEW it. Nothing would have prevented it. Three girls I grew up with already have a kid and we'd all talked for hours about birth control. Miriam and Kyle have three kids and they're not even 23.

"So I decided I'd date safe boys. We talk, talk, talk. I've kissed them, graduated to handjobs when they pushed me. Even let them play with my tits. But I end the relationship when they get bold and want to go further. It's worked pretty well. Nobody starts rumors that I'm a lezzie and I've learned how to masturbate really well.

"That's not anything like the real thing — god it REALLY isn't like the real thing," she giggled "— but it's gotten me through high school."

My head was whirling.

"You came to this conclusion in tenth grade?"

"I had help."

I looked blankly.

"Marg and I talked a lot when she flunked out of college. She's three years older than me, remember? She was a virgin when she left for college. And she blew it, just like a farm girl. At least she didn't get pregnant. She may not be a real Catholic any more, but I don't think she'd ever have an abortion, so she was lucky.

"She dated 'safe' boys in high school, just fell into it somehow, but she recommended it to me as a strategy. 'Pick shy ones, give 'em just enough to keep 'em coming back, when they get to the point where they want to get into your pants, drop 'em and find another one. They're always making new ones.' I've gone steady with six different guys, they're very nice, and the strategy's worked real well."

"So why now?"

"I'm going to go to college here. The weather is warm, we got along so well, you're very attentive and polite, I checked with Marg and she recommended you. The rest is history."

Margery recommended me?

Julia read my mind. "We talked about it when we got back to her room after dinner. She said if I wanted to, after the picnic she'd make herself scarce. Did you see her wink when she went with Pete?"

"I did wonder about that."

"She explained about how she lives her life and said it was up to me. I decided for sure when I was in the bathroom after we got here."

The light went on. "That's when you ditched the bra?"

"Bingo! I thought it would get your motor running when you found I wasn't wearing one. I better go get it, can't go home without it," and she started to stand. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Oh no you don't! My motor is revving. No way you're leaving this bed without one more fucking."

"Deal!" She dove for my cock and I slobbed my finger before starting in on her pussy. As I was sawing in and out, she popped off my cock and spread her legs. "Ride me cowboy!" 

I swung into the saddle and was inside on the second stroke.

"Yessss! Oh Carl, ride me, do it!"

I pumped in and out of her, slowly at first, but soon I was fucking like a piston. She grabbed my shoulders with her nails and folded her heels into my ass, pulling me deep into her. I forced my mouth onto hers, wanting every bit of her body. She shifted her legs to around my waist so that she could suspend herself from me, swinging her hips against mine, humping back at me so our bellies slapped together, loudly.

"God Carl, push it in me! Make me cum! You know what I like! Ohhhh yessss! YESSSS!"

"You're gonna get me, I'm gonna cum. Now, Now! NOW! Julia, I'M CUMMING!" and I blasted into her. I don't think I ever came so fast, unless it was with Margery during that first blowjob.

We collapsed on the bed, soaked and finished. But I didn't get soft. My cock was hard even as I rolled us onto our sides. Julia felt it.

"You're still hard! That's neat! Can you cum again?"

"I've never had this happen."

"I made you hard, I'm keeping you hard, I'm gonna get you again," she growled.

She slipped down to fit her mouth to my cock. "There's a lot of stuff here. Ummmm, tastes like, I dunno, unflavored yogurt.

"Tell me how to do this, I've never done it, but I really want to learn."

"You want to give me a blowjob?"

"Yes. You okay with that?"

"Sure! Not a boy in the world would refuse a blowjob from a girl as pretty as you." She blushed, then got a determined serious look on her face.

"How do I do it?"

"Just like you wet my cock. Treat it like a lollipop. Start by licking it, go up and down a couple of inches, further when you feel like it, and lick your way up. The sensation is at the top, the head. Oh, and please keep your teeth away from everything."

She got into it pretty quickly. "Use your tongue, combine your lips and your tongue, go up and down, that's it, take it slowly. I'll tell you when I'm close."

"Good," she said, pulling off. "I want to know 'cause I want to swallow it all." She held my eyes, then went back to work.

From my pussy-eating experience I knew that your neck and tongue get tired after a while, so five minutes into her work I had her stop. I brought her up to me and kissed her tenderly. 

"Thanks. My neck was getting stiff."

"You are soooo good. The best way to get me to cum is by sucking me and tonguing the head. It helps if you jack me with your hand, combine the blowjob with a handjob, so you're pushing the cum up from my balls. When I get close, keep your lips tight around my cock, don't let anything out. Start swallowing as soon as it happens.

"And if you can, please keep eye contact with me. It's so erotic."

Up and down she bobbed. She jacked me with one hand and cupped my balls with the other, stroking softly. It was absolutely glorious. And she never broke eye contact.

"I'm getting close, Julia, go faster."

"Ummmmm," she said, and bobbed faster. 

Considering my recent major orgasms, I didn't expect any of my blasts now would be Vesuvian. Still, the first one was pretty strong and Julia's eyes popped wide. She wasn't ready when it hit, but she kept the seal with her lips. She gulped the load and kept on bobbing and jacking. The second and then the feeble third were easier to handle. 

But she kept on going! I squealed in pain! "Oh god Julia, please stop! Please, please! It's so sensitive! It hurts! Please stop, please please please!" 

She pulled off in a hurry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?"

I pulled her up to me and kissed her, HARD. 

"Oh yeah, I am so okay, that was so good, you're sooooo gooood, god it was gooood," I babbled. "It's just that after I cum my cock gets soooo sensitive. First it's ecstasy, then it's agony."

We cuddled and started to drift. The last thing I remember was that the clock said almost 5.

*

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!"

It was Pete, tapping on the door. The clock said 7:30.

I was spooned behind Julia and I guess I jumped at the sound of Pete's voice. She jumped too, startled. 

"Who? Wha — "

"Wake-up time, lover, time to get social. C'mon, into the bathroom." I got up and pulled a cellophane-wrapped toothbrush from the stash in my desk. "Use this and the toothpaste on the second shelf. You can shower later." I handed her my bathrobe, pulled on my jeans and a fresh shirt, and moved for the door.

"Wait! Carl!" she whispered.

"What?"

"I can't, I mean, I'm embarrassed, they'll — "

"— know that we spent the night fucking? They'd have to be stone deaf not to know." I kissed her. "It's fine. Pete's cool, Margery's cool, you'll see." I opened the door and ushered her out.

"Hi kiddo," Margery said. "You look great!" Julia's anxiety melted away. 

"Never felt better! Be right out," and she popped into the bathroom. 

Pete's cooking skills were on full display. Omelets, sausage, orange juice, tea, croissants and jam were spread on the kitchen table.

"You guys've been busy this morning," I said.

"Yeah, we decided we should have some real food, so we went out and got this stuff."

"A guy who cooks! He's REALLY going to be in demand when I tell the girls," Margery bantered as she patted Pete's ass. She had on his spare robe and a pair of flip-flops he kept in his room for visitors.

Julia emerged from the bathroom, blushing a little as she joined us. "Smells great! You grow up on a farm?"

"Suburbs," Pete chirped, "but mom made Sunday morning breakfast special. Tea or juice?"

"Juice, please." 

Pete handed us plates he'd warmed in the oven. "Dig in," he said. We filled our plates and sat on the floor around the coffee table.

"The picnic was GREAT! You even had a beer," Margery teased me.

"Me too!" announced Julia.

"I didn't think you liked beer," Margery said to Julia.

"I've tried it at a couple of parties, and I didn't, but it was so hot out there, and the beer was so cold. Ummmm," she said, remembering. "But I suppose I don't, 'cause I didn't go back for another one."

We chattered on like this until Margery's cell rattled. "Ooops, nine o'clock, time to get going, kiddo. Gotta get you packed up for the bus." The girls headed for their respective bedrooms, emerging a few minutes later in their yesterday clothes.

Julia, suddenly shy, came over to me. "Thank you for a wonderful time, Carl."

"You're welcome. It was fun."

Suddenly I remembered. "Oh, wait, I've got something for you," and I zipped into my bedroom and returned with the memory stick.

"Here. It's the pictures from the ag school."

She kissed me. "Good memories," she whispered close to my ear, then stepped back. "Thanks. Kyle and dad'll be impressed."

Pete and I cleaned up.

"She's neat, I really like her," he said. No probe, just a statement.

"Yeah. She and Margery are a lot alike, I think. She really knows what she wants to do."

"You want the first shower?"

"I guess I should, I'm probably pretty rank," I said. Pete grinned.

After my shower I decided to take a short nap, and suddenly it was after eleven. I stripped the bed and went to the laundromat to wash both sets of sheets and the rest of my stuff.

*

"Can we talk?" Margery and I were in the middle of the largest Sunday turnout I'd ever seen. Girls I barely knew said hello. 

"Sure. Union?"

"No need. Over there," and she motioned to a small sofa at one end of the living room. We settled in and I waited with a little trepidation.

"You are the nicest guy. Thank you so much for helping Julia."

"You're not mad at me?"

"On the contrary. What you did for her was the sweetest, kindest thing. You would be amazed how many girls have awful first times."

"She's a lot like you, you know."

"Yes she is. I don't want her to have the same problems, though."

"Sounds to me that you helped her around that."

"You like her, don't you?"

"Is it obvious?" What the hell, when in doubt, tell the truth. "Yes, I do, a lot."

"And she likes you. Also a lot."

She changed the subject. "What're your plans for the summer?"

"I don't know. My parents put together a really good college fund for me and my sister, so when I chose a state school they saved so much that they can pick up all my expenses. So I don't have to work summers as long as I don't gold-plate anything."

"A man of leisure."

"But I'm not constituted for that. Senior year I worked in the local library two nights a week right after school till closing, and I stayed on over the summer. Last summer I worked for my uncle, who does environmental quality assessments for developers. I did all the photography and learned Photoshop and a couple of other programs so I could prepare the reports




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 06



"I can go back there if I want. The problem is, I'd have to live at home. After everything I've, uh, experienced lately," I smiled winningly, "I don't think I could stand that."

"You said the other day that you were thinking of majoring is psychology or sociology, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't know right now. Like you said, though, so long as I stay in the liberal arts, it really doesn't matter."

"One of the girls was going to be a research assistant in the psych department this summer. She, uh, has this problem and can't take the job."

" 'Problem?' "

"Pregnant." Her tone was "if you must know." There was that word again. 

"Anyway, they need someone really fast. It doesn't pay a lot, which is why it's still open. But it'll pay the rent and keep you in groceries. And it's research, not cleaning out rat cages."

"What about you? What're you gonna do?"

"The professor I'm an assistant for next year offered me a job for the summer. I'll teach and do research for her. I can take two courses at reduced cost and if I do it again next year, I can finish a semester early and get a head start on graduate school."

"Where will you live?"

"It's summer school, they run the place year-round. So the dorms are open and I can have my room again. I like it, it suits me well. I might even become an RA and put some more money away. But I don't want to get over-committed. I have to decide pretty soon, though.

"Anyway, what do you think about the psych job?"

Do I look that directionless? What the heck, doors open. Why not?

"Sure."

"Great. Talk to Linda. She's over there," she gestured toward the dining room.

Suddenly the shrillest whistle I'd ever heard came out of Wendy's thin frame. And there was Pete, standing on a stool in the living room.

"That was one terrific picnic yesterday! We knew that exams start in two weeks, and that it would be tough to pull it off, but you guys were great!" He thanked Ruth for everything and then all the people who worked in setup, serving, and cleanup.

"And thank you all for coming. And to those of you who brought friends, extra thanks. New members in the club let us keep it going. Let's keep more in touch. Several of you will be here over the summer working or studying, so don't forget Ruth McGowen." He stepped down to applause, even cheers.

I spotted Carol in the crowd and drifted over. 

"Have fun yestserday?"

"I got into this competitive Frisbee game that Karen organized on the front lawn. It got so hot that a couple of us took off our shirts. Did you hear that the cops came by?"

"No! You could've gotten the whole party busted."

"Colored sports bras look a lot like thin halter tops. At least that's what Karen pointed out to the cops. They made one of the girls put her shirt back on, but that was it."

"You get any feedback on the front-page photo?"

"The sports editor liked it a lot, which is all that counts. Did you read the caption? She snuck in a really risqué pun." I hadn't. Dummy.

"You on the board this week?"

"Yeah, Wednesday. You?"

"Will be."

At first I couldn't find Linda, but when I scanned a little more intently there she was, talking with Kenny, who had been on the cleanup committee with her.

"I am sooo glad you guys managed to get the place back to normal yesterday," I said to them.

"I like working cleanup," said Kenny. "I can enjoy the party. If the serving committee keeps on top of things, there's not a lot of mess and it's a snap."

"Yeah, you and me, we're a team. Last year, remember, the three picnics, when nobody seemed interested in anything but food? We had to work our butts off. This was easy. Must have been all the new people, everybody was on their best behavior." They both laughed.

"Uh, Linda, Margery told me to talk to you about this summer job at the psych department. I'm thinking of majoring in psychology and this sounds interesting."

"Oh good! I'm glad somebody's interested. Look, you'd really be doing Marney a favor," she said, referring to her roommate, another member of the club. "She's got some family issues and can't take the job after all, but it's so close to the end of school that it's tough to get anyone."

"So I should talk to her?"

"Can't, she's away this weekend. But look, I know the professor is Draper. Shoot him an email with your resume. Tell him Marney suggested you be in touch."

"Do you know what the job's about?"

"Not a clue. D'you, Kenny? You're a psych major."

"Nope. I took 'Nuts and Sluts' with Draper last year. He's into research, statistics and correlations. Personally, he seems really intense. Sorry, though, I never asked Marney what the job was about."

*

I was in the office of Dr. Donald Draper the next afternoon, summoned by his secretary after she'd gotten my email and resume. By then he'd checked my grades in the two psych courses I'd taken. Since they were both A's, it was only the thinness of the resume that might be a problem.

"I'm part of a nation-wide research project where we'll be doing 150 interviews of about an hour each in six weeks. We'll video each one and afterward we'll subject the videos to a series of computer assessments of body and facial language. 

"I need someone to do the recording, log the data and the paperwork, and secure everything. It's not rocket science, but it does require an organized mind. We're on a tight schedule so we don't have time for screw-ups.

"Your resume says photography. Ever done video?"

"Closest thing is time-lapse photography. I had to break down every 12 hours, then set up again. Each setup meant locating the camera in the exact same place, pointed in the exact same angle and direction, with the exact same settings. 

"I take really good care of my images. They're backed up in two places here on earth and another one in a cloud somewhere."

"I like what I'm hearing," said Dr. Draper. He paused, then "I'd like you to take the job."

"Can you tell me about the project?"

"Sure. You know about lie detectors? Everybody thinks they accurately show whether the subject is telling the truth. Fact is, technically they suck, to the point where a lot of courts won't accept the evidence from them.

"Several of us believe that you can tell if a person is telling the truth by reading body language and facial expression. Several of us have done small-group tests of this, with encouraging results, or at least better results than lie detectors. But there's never been a broad-based test. Until now.

"We've got a decent-size grant. There are seven collaborators in different parts of the country doing identical interviews this summer. All together we're shooting for 1,000 completed interviews. It would be great if we could select subjects who matched the demographics of the entire country, but we can't afford it and anyway it would take too much time.

"So we've modified the design to interview college students. Each interview will be identical, with a mix of warm-up chat, biographical questions that we can check, some general knowledge questions, and some opinion questions. 

"But six times during the interview, out of the blue, we'll ask a very personal question, to which we do not, of course, have the answer. Actually, we really don't care what the answer is. That's the whole purpose of the interview: all the other questions are about making sure we know how the subject looks and behaves when telling the truth, so that the answers to the personal questions can be evaluated by the facial expression and body language."

A couple of times, when I'd reviewed the photos I'd taken during a long shoot, I thought I could read what people were thinking from their expressions, but I really didn't know what I was looking at. Doing a scientific study of this would be really interesting.

"The budget is tight. We're offering the subjects serious money, $150 each, to make sure we'll have a large enough pool from the get-go and be able to start interviews right away. After we pay the university its overhead, pay the grad students for their analytical work over the next six months, license the software, and so on, I'm able to offer you $11 an hour for forty hours a week, over nine weeks, starting as soon as possible after exams are over.

"I don't mean to pressure you, but Marney's left me in a tight spot. I need your answer by tomorrow morning. I have to resolve this by the end of the week."

Well, you made $10 an hour washing windows over spring break, plus free meals. Uncle Ted's job pays $10 and you can live at home, which means free room and board but also parental supervision of your sex life. On the other hand, this is interesting and you've got your own place. On the other hand . . . What the hell, you don't have anything better to do this summer. 

"That's great news, Carl. Thank you, I think you'll enjoy what we do here. Can you come by my office and fill out the paperwork today or tomorrow morning?"

*

After my mid-term exams scare, I'd learned how easily distracted I could be. Since then I'd worked at participating in every class and reviewing at the end of every week. I had two papers due by finals, in less than two weeks. I figured four days for the history paper and another three for the sociology paper. After that, it's straight on to finals. Between classes and making my off-day Thursday a power-study day, I should do well.

If I kept this schedule, I could date, for sure on Wednesday and maybe weekends.

*

Professor Draper e-mailed me the research proposal and the award documents. I was flattered that he was treating me as a collaborator, not just an employee. He invited me to lunch at the Faculty Club with his secretary, Marilyn, and Anna, the graduate student who would be conducting the interviews. By the end of lunch I felt I was part of the team and he asked me to call him "Don."

*

"I picked up a stick last week," Carol said it matter-of-factly, but I knew better. It was early Wednesday evening and we were in the union's German food court.

"Hit anybody with it?"

She giggled. "No, it was just a Sunday morning pick-up game at one of the practice fields. There's this lacrosse club, they get together for a just-for-fun scrimmage. So after church I just walked over there. One of the girls loaned me her extra stick and we threw the ball around for a while. At first I felt awkward, but I got into the groove. It felt good, really good.

"After a half-hour of warming up, we got into a 5-on-5, half-field game, kinda ragged, no pads or other stuff. We played for maybe an hour. Afterward we went to one of the sororities for beers.

"They're a fun bunch and I lost track of time. Around 3:30 I realized I was late for the club meeting, but it just felt so right hanging out with them. I guess I've missed it more than I thought."

"Too bad it's the end of the semester, you could keep it up."

"Oh, I can. I'm working this summer at the local recreation camp back home. There are a couple of leagues that play all summer. There've gotta be pickup games on the weekends. I doubt anybody in town remembers the accident any more."

I told her how I'd fallen into this research project. "If you'd told me a week ago that I'd be involved in a cutting-edge psychological research project at a major state university this summer, I'd have said you were nuts. But here I am." I laid out the subject matter and mentioned improving on lie-detectors.

"Another application could be card-sharking," she said. 

"How so?"

"A couple of times a year my father plays in one of those Texas Hold 'Em tournaments. He's never even come close to getting to the final tables, and he says one reason is that he just doesn't read the other players that well. He's good at counting cards, though.

"I've played in a couple of the run-up tournaments, where the buy-in isn't much. My game is getting better. They tell me I have a good poker face and I'm amazed at how much some of the players give away when they look at their cards. But I haven't mastered card-counting yet." Cards being a social game, I'd never played.

And so the conversation went. Carol's DNA research seminar had given her the impetus to declare a major in plant biology with a minor in geography.

The movie portion of our date was the Film Society's double feature, Lon Chaney's Phantom of the Opera paired with Andrew Lloyd Weber's version. We'd both seen the musical, so we skipped out about half way through and headed to the apartment.

I kissed her at the door. "Can you come in for a nightcap?" 

She kissed me back. "I'd like that."

We went straight to my room. I turned from locking the door to find her seated on the bed, pulling off her socks.

"Nice feet," I praised. "Good ankles." I lifted one of them to my lips. I ran my tongue over her toes and kissed the instep. She shivered.

"Can I play with yours?"

"I'd love it." She worked my sneakers as I pulled my shirt off and undid my belt. As I stepped out of my socks, she tickled my arch, then shifted to my zipper, sliding my pants and jockeys down.

"Can I —" I started to say.

"Only if I don't first," as she shucked her polo shirt. I reached around her and unclipped her bra, freeing her mid-sized breasts. I took one in my hands and thumbed the nipple.

"Ummmm," she said, but her hands were on her jeans, popping the button and fumbling for the zipper.

"May I?"

"Sure."

"I want to see you the first time up close," I said, and took her pants and panties down slowly, revealing her closely trimmed pussy an inch at a time.

While her hair was very dark brown, her bush was lighter and slightly sparse. I was just starting to slip my tongue onto its lips when she grabbed my armpits and pulled me upright.

"Can we get into bed first? I'd be more comfortable."

I pulled back the sheets and we slid in and clasped sideways. I opened her thighs just enough to get a leg between and pushed gently with my pelvis, announcing that my cock was hard.

"Oh that's nice. Kiss me," and I did. Her tongue dipped between my lips, not darting so much as testing. I caught her lower lip, sucked it into my mouth, and worked it. 

"I want to make you cum, Carol," I said as I started to slide down.

"You don't have to, I'm ready, let's just do it."

"But I want to. I like knowing I've done it."

"That's okay, I get off when you're inside me. Really. C'mon, I want to feel your cock in me. You'll make me cum that way."

I lifted up and she slid under me. Dropping down, I inserted my second leg between hers, lubed my cockhead, and moved in. She was certainly wet and ready.

"Ohhhh yeah, feels so good, so good," she said as I got completely seated. On my second thrust she pushed back and we got our rhythm going.

"Feels so good, feels so good, feels so good," she crooned as we upped the pace. She gripped my shoulders and pumped her hips up and down, meeting my thrusts with enthusiasm.

"Feels so good, feels so good, feels so good."

As our pace quickened. I was getting closer and closer. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna c—" when suddenly her pussy muscles gripped my cock and held it. She humped up and down with my cock completely in her pussy's grip. 

She was milking me!

And it worked! As if on cue, when she released me, I spurted. Immediately she gripped me again, then let go, and I released my second blast. She did this a third time and got my third squirt. Then she relaxed and I was free to stroke toward my final spout. 

As it surged, she began to push, hard, against me. "Oh god yes, you're making me cum! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming now!" and she humped furiously against me as I finished. As I fell forward, she clamped my sweaty body to hers and rolled us onto our sides.

"That was so nice, so nice, thank you Carl," she said between harsh breaths. I stroked the nearest nipple as she floated her fingers across my sweaty cheek. 

"I've never felt what you did before," I gasped. "It was like I was being milked."

"Like it?"

"Oh man, yeah! You took me completely by surprise. You grabbed and let go. It was amazing! You really have control over your muscles."

"It's how I like to cum. There are some really neat details and a bunch of variations to it that I'll show you sometime."

It was barely eleven when I finished cleaning us up, and I was randy. I started in on her again but she demurred. "Let's sleep and do it again in the morning." 

I started to protest but thought better of it. I slid behind her as she reached between her legs for my cock. I fondled her breasts. We spooned.

"There. Everything's where it belongs." We dozed.

I woke at six, not knowing why. Carol was dressed and tying her second sneaker when I focused. I shifted and she noticed I was awake.

"Gotta go. I run every morning." As she stood, she slid a piece of paper from the desk into her pocket, then came over to the bed and pulled the sheet back. She sucked my cock into her mouth, then popped off and kissed me hard, pushing her tongue into my mouth. 

"Let's do this again."

And she was gone.

*

Did I just interrupt the female version of the one-night-stand brush-off, saving face by leaving a note? 

I'd come close to doing the same thing with Pat. Well, no, actually I'd behaved better: I did fuck her a second time later that night, and I was social with her and her roommate in the morning, even if I did offer the lamest excuse known to college students in order to get away.

I liked Carol. Well no, not in the same way I liked Julia and Margery, or Cindy for that matter. I was a little creeped out by how she's holding onto her guilt over her brother's death. But I like how she has a good eye for composition. She's easy to talk to and has her own ideas about things I'm interested in.

And I've NEVER known a girl who could control her pussy like that!

But just fuck, snore, and bolt? And what kind of girl turns down getting eaten first, anyway? She's got real skill with her pussy, and that was amazing, I'd like to feel that again. Crap.

*

Go to class, review, write, eat, sleep. Repeat. By the weekend my confidence in how my final grades would work out was growing. The papers were done and turned in, and I was completely current in all my courses.

At Sunday's club meeting I seriously considered signing up for two dates, Wednesday for sure and either Friday or Saturday. I decided to be conservative and booked Wendy, for Wednesday.

I looked for Linda but at first scan didn't see her. She wasn't on the board either, but then I spotted her in front of the big-screen as the Blue Jays and the Angels struggled. I plunked myself down next to her.

"I got that job with the psych department. Thank you so much for telling me about it." 

"Oh, good! Marney told me they'd found someone, but she didn't know who. I'm glad it's you. She filled me in on the project and it sounds fascinating."

"Maybe it's too invasive. I've been thinking, if we ever get to the point of being able to read facial expressions and know what's behind them, we'd have too much control over people."

"Your research is about trying to get an accurate yes-or-no answer in a very structured environment, not mind invasion on the street. Besides," she grinned, "there are all sorts of ways already where I can tell what you're thinking simply by showing you an image."

"I doubt it," I said.

"Okay," and she pulled her t-shirt up, exposing her bra-less breasts, then dropped it down and stuck her forefinger in her mouth. It didn't last two seconds.

"And you think I'm thinking —"

"Admit it, you —"

"The First Swedish War against Napoleon, 1813-1814," I said, authoritatively.

"You were not!"

"Was too!"

"Well, you're wrong."

"Waddaya mean?"

"Those dates are for the Second Swedish War against Napoleon."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 06



Over dinner I discovered that the trove of trivia I thought I'd indexed in my brain had betrayed me. Linda topped me because her great-grandparents were original members of the American Swedish Institute, which had been founded in their native Minnesota. Linda had spent summers with her grandparents there, absorbing the culture and tradition. In high school she'd been an exchange student in Sweden and was majoring in international studies because her ambition was to be the American Ambassador to Sweden before she died.

"And in between?" I asked, stunned by her ambition.

"Travel. U. S. Foreign Service."

"So why didn't you go to Georgetown? That's supposed to be the best place to get started in international affairs."

"You seen the tuition for Georgetown? No, I'll get my degree here, then take the test."

"This summer?"

"I'm working at a think tank in Washington that focuses on E. U. financial policy. Sounds boring, but I love it, and I ought to make some good connections."

We segued into talking about getting ready for exams. As a junior with those ambitions, Linda was focused on getting an A in every course and had been working systematically for two weeks, ever since she'd finished her papers, to get ready for finals.

"I'm pretty much done, in fact I'm afraid I've peaked too soon. So I've decided to blow off some steam for a couple of days, then go back at it."

"Therefore the challenge?" I challenged.

"Attaboy."

Her dorm was closer to the union than my apartment. As we raced there it occurred to me that she had a roommate. 

"Marney?" I gasped.

"Gone home," she puffed. 

We shot into her room and she had flipped off her sandals and was stepping out of her jeans before I had pried off my sneakers. I staggered as I dropped my pants, probably because she was flashing her bra-less breasts at me again. We jumped under the sheets and I headed to her pussy.

And was met by a little white string.

"Ooops, sorry, I should have mentioned that," she said, as I screeched to a halt. 

"Drawer," she gestured toward the nightstand. "Baby oil. Hurry." She flipped onto her belly, lifted her ass in the air, and spread her cheeks with her hands.

"I've never —" I stammered.

"Good! You'll learn the right way."

She popped the cap and spread some around her asshole. "On your cock," she instructed, breathing heavily as she watched me over her shoulder. I dabbed a few drops on. "No, more, get it good and slicked up. C'mon, move." I slobbed it on. "Yeah, that's good, you're done."

She pushed her ass at me. "Push it in, slowly, I'll tell you when," and she wiggled as I inserted the head part way.

It was tight. "Good, good, I am so hot for you, keep going," she urged, and I moved forward a little. "Good, more," and the cockhead was entirely inside. "A little more, yesssss, there, you're home." 

Her anus was really tight, but the head inside was surrounded by a warm, velvety soft glove.

"Play with my clit, c'mon cocksman, yeah, that's it, now stroke, STROKE!" and I began a rhythmic in-and-out. She rose to meet my thrusts and swung her hips in a broad circle, challenging me to stay inside.

"Fuck me Carl, fuck me, it's all the same, make me cum, make me cum, I'm gonna make you cum!" She panted as she moved slightly away from me on my backstroke, so that her anus clamped my cockhead.

"Gottcha!" And at just the right time she released me and shoved back as I slid in.

I may have been new to ass fucking, but I certainly knew how to stroke. As I pulled her hips to me with one hand, and mindlessly flicked her clit with the other, I reveled in the smacking sound of my belly against her ass.

Then it started. "I'm cumming. I'm gonna cum!" I barked as the wave rolled over me. I blasted into her and spasmed my cock as the last of it leapt out.

"Do it, fill me up, cum in MEEE!" she yelled as I was cumming and she bucked higher and against my hips, harder and harder. "OH GOD I'M CUMMMMMING!" She humped up and down on my cock, banged into me, then up and down again.

I crashed onto her ass and collapsed us onto the bed. Out of courtesy I tried to shift my weight off her. "NO! STAY IN ME!" she commanded, and her anus squeezed and relaxed. As my cock softened, she sighed. "Okay, you can move," and I rolled away and slid my cock out.

She shifted and faced me with a wicked grin. "I LOVED that, that was great! And you kept going pretty good for a first-timer."

I'm astonished! I expected ass-fucking would be gross and filthy, but that rosebud-shaped brown entrance was immaculate. Actually, now that I think about it, all the girls whose ass cheeks I've kissed were clean there.

"You're thinking, I can tell," she noticed.

"Yeah. I'm embarrassed. I mean, well, I'd expected this to be dirty." I blushed.

"Was it?"

"No, not at all. You made it seem so natural, like it's something anyone can do. And you're clean." Boy do you sound like a dork.

"There are some fine points to anal sex" — she emphasized the term — "that you need to learn. I like it at certain times. Like now, my period's winding down but I don't want to make a mess. It's a different feeling, but I get off. You too, eh?" she leered as she slid her hand up and down my soft and slick cock.

"You played my cock with your sphincter pretty well."

"Yeah. If you can stand it, I think it's fun to do it that way. I'll get you to the point where you're ready to cum and then hold you there. Drive you nuts!" she laughed.

It wasn't even eight when we decided to take a shower together. 

"You won't get in trouble?"

"Not right now, there aren't too many girls around. It's prime study time. If we run into anybody, you'll get 'em all excited." She handed me a robe and we walked to the showers. We splashed around as we washed each other and were just starting to towel each other off when the door opened.

"Oh, I'm sorry Linda, I didn't know —"

"That's okay, Katie. Hey, I want you to meet Carl, he's a friend of mine. Carl, this is Katie," and she stepped aside, leaving me face-to-face with Katie.

My cock shot up like a flagpole and I blushed. Katie blushed an even deeper red as her eyes drank in my stiffness, but she roused herself and extended a hand. "Glad to meet you," she said. I'd swear she dropped a curtsy.

"We were just leaving. Anybody in the hall?"

Katie spun around, opened the door, then reported, "Nope, all clear," and we zipped to Linda's room, trailing our robes.

Locked in, we stood there, dripping and laughing. "That was fun! The look on both your faces was priceless! Katie's pretty prim, mostly studies, I don't know what else. That makes her a prime candidate for the club, but I couldn't get her to come to the picnic. Damn! I should've mentioned you were someone she'd missed by not coming."

"Are you usually this open with your visitors?"

"In the morning, yeah, there are sometimes a couple of guys around, particularly on weekends."

I toweled up her legs to her torso, just patting her stringed pussy. I massaged her chest, then turned her around and did her shoulders and back. She took my towel and began drying me.

Starting at my hairline, she moved down my back and thoroughly dried my ass. Dropping down one leg and up the other to my balls, she patted them dry and turned me around, made quick work of my belly and chest, then turned to my cock.

"No point in drying this guy off," she said, her eyes sparkling, and she sucked its limpness into her mouth. She was swirling her tongue around the head when I pulled her up and kissed her.

"Let's do it on the bed."

"It'll be easier, that's for sure, thanks, but I want your cock, I am so hot for your cock," and we scrambled onto the bed. Soon she was flicking her tongue everywhere as she slowly kissed up and down the vein, occasionally sucking the head into her mouth, then starting all over.

I could only take so much slowness. "Make me cum, Linda, I want to cum," I croaked.

"Nice and slow, you'll like it," she murmured.

"I'll die, the wait is gonna kill me, I'll take matters into my own hands, I swear! Please, make me cum."

"Oh all RIGHT," she said, mock-impatiently. Up and down she stroked, then took me completely inside her mouth. Slowly rolling off, she began to jack me and, as she felt my balls constrict, she increased her hand speed but held her lips on my cockhead, sucking and licking, waiting.

I came like a freight train. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! I'm cummmming! God it's soooo good!" I thrust my hips half-way to the ceiling. "I'M CUMMMMING!"

She took it all, slurping it down like a milk shake. When I was done, exhausted, I fell back on the bed in a puddle of sweat. She joined me and we kissed, hard, passionately, swapping spit and cum.

We dozed. 

When I woke up, the sheet was over us, the overhead light was out, and the clock showed 2:15. Linda was splayed on her back, snoring softly. Her breasts rose and fell in the moonlight.

I managed to exit the bed without waking her, snuck to the bathroom, peed, and got back without encountering anyone. She stirred.

"That was so nice," she said, sleepily.

"That's my line. 'That was so nice.' "

"Wanna complete the triple play?"

"Uh, well . . ."

"No problem. I peed a half hour ago. No sign. I'm back in action."

It was a long kiss. As we caressed each other, our mutual warmth turned to desire and then to lust. She took over, moving me on top of her and working the tip of my cock up and down her pussy opening as I held myself above her. My arms tired and I fell to the side, but she still had my hardness firmly in her hand.

"Pushups, you need to get more arm and upper body strength," she said as she squeezed my cock. "You've got good equipment, you've got to use it really well. Can't be a champion cocksman without upper body strength."

"I don't aspire to championship status," I moved for her breast to lick. "I just want to make you happy." I sucked and nibbled.

"Around here, stamina counts. You're not just displaying the goods any more, you're putting them to use, and we have a right to get your best." 

"You keep track?"

"The club is about helping fulfill our individual needs, remember? So yeah, once you're comfortable with the fact that it's never the same lover twice in one week, you want to get as good a result as you can, every time. 

"And if you fuck outside the club during the summer, you want your skills to be sharp.

"I had an internship last summer, at a law firm where they did international contracts and insurance. The partner I was working for got this big contract and I was working 60 hors a week on it. To close the deal he had to go to London and he took me along to make sure the paperwork was in perfect order. It was really intense. 

'The third night we were there, after dinner, he knocked on my door. We fucked till morning and for the next three nights before we came back to the U. S. and his wife. 

"He's the one who got me the internship in D. C. It wouldn't have happened without his help.

"The point is, once you're outside the cocoon of the club, pleasing your lover is more important than just getting yourself off."

I moved to her pussy and worked to put on as good a show as I could. From her toes to the back of her knees, one leg and then the other, no hands, careful to kiss and lick and tingle and tongue the places she seemed to like, I devoted almost ten minutes to this before reaching the outskirts of her pussy.

The cleft where her right leg met her torso had darker skin than the rest of her body. I inhaled its smell and lapped it. She shuddered her pleasure and I moved across her opening, barely tongue-tickling her clit, but enough so that the slight puff I gave it in passing got a deep moan from her.

The left-leg cleft was even more sensitive, so I lingered there as she moaned some more. When I felt I'd made my contribution to her bliss I moved toward the bottom of her pussy opening and began to tongue it.

"I'm ready, Carl, c'mon cocksman, put it to me."

"You need more prep time. I'm only starting."

"No, it's enough, I want YOU."

"Soon lover, soon," and I slowly wiggled my tongue into the folds, going down as far as I could toward her anus. She didn't lift herself, so I concluded she was semi-serious and moved back to the folds.

I tongue-walked across, catching her pussy hair in my teeth several times and made a mental note to trim her if I had the opportunity. When I inserted my tongue, the moan turned into a summons.

Slowly, so slowly, I lifted myself over her and laid my cock at the mouth of her pussy. "Oh thank you, thank you, I want you so much," she said dreamily. I pulled back, slobbed the cockhead, and diddled the opening, barely parting the lips.

"Ohhhh, finally, so close, so fucking close," she moaned.

The cockhead was half-way in when I swirled my hips, which moved the head to every part of her opening. She pushed up against me and grabbed my shoulders.

"NOW, DAMN YOU, NOW!" she barked, grabbing for my cock with her pussy lips. She got hold of the entire head and a little bit more, then arched herself and hooked her heels into my ass, pulling us together as we crashed to the mattress.

"You've made your point, you can last, now fuck me," she hissed.

And I did. We swung ourselves together, like dance partners who knew each other's moves without saying anything, just hearing the silent music. Holding out had never been my strength, and I was moving toward cumming when her pussy grabbed my cock on an in-stroke and held me.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh yesssss, I'm cumming!" and she shook with a 5.0 Richter scale quake. It was too much for me and I started pulsing. I lost my balance and fell onto her as I shouted "You've got me! Oh I'm gonna cum! I am cumming! So hard, oh god, it's so good!" Pumping still, I must have been smothering her, but I was finishing. When I was done, I rolled off, feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to crush you." 

"You're not so heavy that I couldn't hump you off if I need to. That was good, though that's not the way I like to do it regularly." We laughed, and the laugh caused her pussy to expel my cock.

*

The sunlight woke us both at six. "It's early enough, c'mon, let's shower together." She handed me the visiting-team robe and we sauntered to the showers. Stale cum yielded to soap and hot water and we toweled each other with no spectators. 

Back in the hall, we ran into Katie. "Hi Katie," I perked.

"Uh, good morning, uh . . ."

"Carl. I'm Linda's friend, remember?"

"Well, yes, of course, she's right behind you."

"Hi Katie," Linda said brightly as she brushed past us toward her room. I smiled good-bye and followed her inside.

"Recruiting?"

"You suggested it." 

I'd made overtures in the shower for another romp, but Linda was more interested in breakfast. We were the first in the cafeteria and took a table in one corner. We were chatting about some Congressional flare-up when Katie appeared with her tray.

"Can I join you?"

"Gladly," said Linda, gesturing to the open seat. "You usually up this early?"

"Some days I walk, for exercise, early, but usually I sleep till eight or so. Today, I dunno, I just woke up early and thought 'shower.' "

I moved to participate in the conversation. "Closing in on finals?"

"Yes. Midterms were okay, but I want an A in every course so they'll let me do a double major in geography and government." That led Linda to join in, and quickly the two settled into a two-person, intense discussion of European and Middle East politics.

"Got an early class," I lied, and stood. "Good luck on your exams," I smiled at Katie. 

"Thanks," I whispered to Linda, and bent to kiss her. "Thanks yourself," she murmured. As she kissed back, she fondled my ass. 



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 07



Go to class, review, eat, sleep, repeat. By Wednesday, the last day of classes, I'd covered everything and was serenely confident. My first exam was Friday, then one on Saturday, two on Monday, and the last on Wednesday.

I'd suggested to Wendy that we have dinner around eight, at the top of one of the dorms, a rooftop restaurant more known for its views than its food. 

"Is that okay? It's probably a little pricey."

"No problem. I'd like to treat myself."

Wendy didn't so much walk as dart. Her hair was curly and closely cropped, her rail-thin body boasted a small chest, and she was about a millimeter short of six feet, but with the effect of someone much smaller, elfin. And how she could whistle!

"My dad could break glass with his, and he taught me everything I know. It's in the lips and the placement of your fingers. And your lungs, of course, you have to really blow. I don't usually let it all out, but I gave it a pretty good shot on Sunday."

As a senior, she could afford to be casual about exams, and she was. "Finish exams, grab my worldly possessions, and head for New York City. I've got a job with a steel exporter. I'm sharing an apartment with Helen. You know her, right?"

Did I know Helen? Not in the biblical sense, but twice she'd spent the night with my roommate Pete before I joined the club. Her ecstatic shrieks as they fucked drove me to tears of self-pity both times. At breakfast after the first night she was almost demure, but that was probably because I made a spectacle of myself by staring at the breasts that were only partly obscured by Pete's loose-fitting bathrobe.

"How'd you get that job?"

"Business major. There's still manufacturing going on in America, and steel is one of the biggest. It's a really tough world out there, because there's a lot of demand sometimes, and prices fluctuate. Different grades can be hot one week and nothing the next. You have to turn on a dime and deliver on time.

"I worked the last two summers for a stockbroker, first doing data entry, then actually executing trades. That's intense! I could still do that, but the steel exporter pays more, and there may be some travel in it."

The meal was actually very good. I'd wanted to eat later so I could get shots of the town as dusk crept over it, I was snapping away, looking for good shots from all angles. And I wanted the ones with Wendy in them to be Julia-grade.

It was almost eleven when we got to the apartment. We'd walked side-by-side and she'd hip-bumped me a couple of times, so we skipped the living room and went right to bed.

We kissed, I pulled her ass to my erection and she ground against me. I slid my hands into her slacks and massaged her ass cheeks as she moaned into my mouth and did the same to me. 

We shucked our shoes and I got to her zipper before she was able to get to mine. I knelt and peeled off her slacks and wet panties and was greeted by the lushest bush I'd ever seen. 

Like the hair on her head, it was curly and light brown, but man was it dense! I couldn't even see her pussy lips. Fumbling around, I finally parted the jungle at the right place to reveal two pouty lips already moist with excitement. I sucked them and she shivered.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, I pulled her to my mouth and fluttered my tongue at the top of her opening, seeking her clit. She grabbed my hair and pulled me to her with "ohhh" and "ahhh" and "that's niiiice" for encouragement.

As she started to hump my face, I moved a finger to her asshole, gently touching it. "Oh!" she squealed, startled. I kept on tonguing, fluttering her clit.

But that gets tiring and after a few more minutes I pulled off and stood. "Let's get naked," I puffed, and dropped my pants as she worked my dress shirt off.

She started for her blouse but I stopped her.

"May I? I've never seen you nude, and I want to reveal you, slowly." She dropped her hands to her sides and nodded.

I unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it to my chair, then walked behind her to unclip her bra. As it fell loose, I cupped her breasts and lightly pinched both nipples. "Ohhh."

"Please turn around," I croaked, and, now nude, she was revealed, her arms slack at her sides, her expression expectant.

I gawked, unable to speak for what seemed like a minute. Then I gurgled "you're beautiful" and she smiled, like she'd never heard that compliment before.

Then, unbidden, Wendy sank onto my cock, inhaling it. She took it entirely in, fluttered her throat on the head, then popped off and grinned. "Tastes good. Wonder how it feels?" 

We flopped onto the bed and I moved to her bush, where I quickly started sucking on those lips. My nose bumped into her now fully-aroused clit and she moaned deeply as I switched to sucking it. "Ohhh god, I really like that," she husked and swung her hips around in the same direction as I was moving my mouth.

I was kneading her ass cheeks and still tonguing her clit when she started to erupt. I inserted two fingers into her pussy and stroked, hard. "Oh god, oh goddddddddd, OH GODDDDDD!" she shrieked as she whipped her head around on the pillow in her climax, holding my face against her with her fingertips.

As she subsided, I moved up her side and took her head in my hands, kissing her with pent-up need. She kissed back, wielding her tongue in a sword fight with mine.

She recovered and sought my cock. Even as we kissed, she pulled on it, up and down, jacking me, as I moaned in excitement.

"In you, I should be in you, please," I begged, and rolled between her welcoming thighs. "I want you," she husked, and reached to part the tangle and expose her opening.

As I was entering her, she humped and caught my cock with her pussy lips. Surprised, I paused, and in milliseconds she released me, then humped further and took in more of me, then let me loose, and then I was fully in.

"God Wendy, you are so warm, so wet, so good, it's wonderful," I cooed as I stroked.

"You feel good yourself, c'mon, make me cum again," and she grabbed my shoulders and swung her hips.

On a backstroke I stopped, just the cockhead inside her. "No way! C'mon, keep it inside! I want you FUCKING me!" She hooked her heels in my ass and pulled me in. Our pace quickened as I slammed against her, pushing as hard as I could, going as deep as I could, fucking her.

"So close, so soon, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna —" I croaked, poundiing harder and harder. My first blast had barely begun when she exploded. 

"Oh god yes, yes, yes, you're cumming, I'm cumming, c'mon, more, I want you! Cum, fucking cum, CUMMMM!" My second, third, and fourth blasts followed, even a feeble fifth before I had to stop.

Soaked in sweat, we collapsed against each other and rolled onto our sides, our faces virtually touching.

"Cutting loose?" I puffed, eventually.

"You bet!" She'd recovered faster than me, so her breathing was closing in on normal. "By Sunday I'm outta here. Papers done and turned in, only two meaningless exams, I've even paid my overdue library fines. Fuck graduation! There is NOTHING keeping me here!" She paused. "Except cock," and she squeezed my deflating member with her pussy muscles.

"Flatterer."

"Well, actually, I've been curious, since word is you're pretty good at eating pussy and you like to get a girl off before you fuck." Her breath was completely back and she propped herself up on one elbow. "Do you know how unusual that is?"

"No, not at all. I can't be the only guy who likes doing it that way."

"Look, guys who don't munch first are more interested in their own satisfaction than mine. There may be three other guys in the club who approach a fuck your way. I know this, for a fact."

"You've, uh, had every guy of the club?" I blundered.

She didn't miss a beat. "All but six since I joined, at the beginning of my sophomore year. Most five, six times. Since I joined, there have been forty-nine guys on the board. My first year four seniors graduated before I got to them. Since then it's gotten easier, turnover's the only impediment. There were two guys I couldn't stand — I had to break dates with each of them twice before they got the message.

"So I know what I'm talking about. I'm not bragging, but I like to fuck. I'm not one of those girls who has to be in control, but I'm no shrinking violet either."

"I noticed."

"Yeah, well, I like being eaten. Now since virtually no guy likes cream pies, I let —"

" 'Cream pies'?"

"Sucking your own cum out of my pussy. You never heard of a cream pie?"

"No," I blushed.

"You need to read more porn.

"Anyway, I give a new guy a chance to eat me at the beginning. I'm clean, smell sweet, there is no reason why he shouldn't want to warm me up before jumping my bones. Every guy who's dived in first has been a superior lover," and she caressed my cheek.

I was really blushing now. 

"No, it's true. You're kind, you care about your lovers. I really don't know why it is, but there's a 100% correlation.

"Hey, c'mon, I'm starting to leak all over the place. And I need to pee. I HATE sleeping on the wet spot," and she jumped up, cupped her pussy, and flitted to the bathroom, with me in her wake.

Two warm wet facecloths later, her bush and thighs were clean, my cock was clean, she'd peed, and she'd gotten me to pee through her legs as she stood in front, directing the stream. I'd barely been able to avoid hosing down the wall.

When I returned after swabbing the bed, I found Wendy sitting up against the headboard, musing.

"I just did something pretty awful, and I want to apologize," she said as I nestled against her.

"What? Nothing that I'm aware of," I puzzled.

"Look, it's really poor etiquette for a girl to discuss her past on the first date. Even in general terms. I apologize."

"That's okay. Actually, you could help me with some of your candor, if you don't mind." She smiled indulgently.

"I'm gonna be working here this summer. Since very few members of the club will be around, I'm gonna have to date outside the club, which has to mean using condoms. 

"But I've never used one. What's it like?"

She let out a long breath. "Okay, yeah, summer is different. You like to fuck, you do it. I'm absolutely scrupulous about condoms. I even carry six in my purse. 

"Bareback, at least for me, is the prime attraction of the club, even more than the guaranteed variety. I like giving blowjobs, but they are lame with a condom. It's like sucking on a rubber glove. And the guy loses a lot of sensation, so I have to work harder. I really like swallowing, unless he's had a steady diet of anchovies, but of course that's impossible with a condom.

"But you don't dare go bareback outside the club without some sort of commitment and getting an STD test first. So I use them. But there are ways to make it sexy.

"I can roll a condom on using my mouth. I'm not a big fan of the taste of latex, but it's kinda fun watching the guy as you do it.

"Fucking using a condom, if it's lubricated anyway, is okay, doesn't make much difference as far as I'm concerned, and it eliminates any wet spot in the bed. That's a real plus.

"Interestingly enough, guys just take it for granted, they expect to have to wear one." She noticed that I was returning to hardness.

"Wanna try one out?"

"Sure, but I don't have any."

"I do," she said spritely, and hopped off the bed. Opening her purse, she extracted a small manila envelope, opened it, and presented a foil square. "Taa-daa!"

Darting back, she extended her hand. "You open it." I gingerly tore the foil.

"This is an unlubricated one. I carry a full range," she said matter-of-factly. "The lube is pretty tasteless, but why bother if I don't have to?" After pointing out the nipple, she popped the condom into her mouth. I was really hard now.

"Okay, lay back," and she lowered her mouth onto my cock. Positioning herself, she moved slowly down the shaft, unrolling the latex until she bottomed out.

This is no blowjob. It feels mechanical, even if her mouth is on my cock and even if I know I'm going to be fucking soon.

"There," she said, popping off. "It's wet, I'm wet, let's do it," and she straddled me, quickly got my cock into her pussy, and began to ride.

THIS was not mechanical. We started slowly, with me fondling her nipples, tweaking one while straining to tongue the other. She gyrated around the tip of my cock, occasionally sliding it all the way in, then coming to the top and squeezing me.

"Oh that is soooo good," I moaned. 

"I could make you cum just like this," she puffed. "But then all I'm getting is fucked, and you're having all the fun. I want to cum too."

I took the hint and, after wetting my thumb and forefinger, went for her clit. It wasn't easy, with all her bush, but I traced up from where my cock was sawing back and forth. 

Her clit was out and she moaned deeply when that thumb-and-finger action started. "On the button, right on the button, yes, like that, bet you never knew that's where that phrase came from, did you, oh yes, that's nice, soooo nice." She danced on the pole and swirled her hips to music only she was hearing.

While I certainly felt her pussy rubbing against my cock, and I did feel her warmth, something was missing. 

Further analysis, though, was pushed aside by my growing excitement, and I started humping against her in rhythm, the different symphonies in our heads now in tune. I was fucking, and it felt good. I had to work to keep my fingers on her clit since she was bouncing so high.

Suddenly, at the top of her stroke, Wendy stopped. "I'm gonna get you, Carl, don't move, I love this," and she started squeezing me. The first three or four times lasted maybe six seconds, but she ratcheted up the pace and within a minute had me right at the edge. While she was stationary, I was furiously working her clit. I knew her orgasm was building by the look on her face.

"Cum for me Wendy, cum for me!" and I thrust hard into her, smashing my fingers into her clit with my pelvis.

"Oooooffff!" I grunted as she suddenly dropped down on me. "Oh I am, I'm cumming, it's there, oh goddddd, so goooood, so goooood!" I grabbed her hips with both hands and pounded her. She gave as good as she got.

My ejaculation was in color. Red bursts, black swirls, blue stars on white background, everything. I heard Wendy wailing her own cumming. She pounded my cock even as its sensitivity became painful.

"God, please Wendy, stop, please stop!" I pulled her hips tight to mine and held her to ease the agony, and mercifully she slowed, then stopped, and fell onto my heaving chest.

The involuntarily spasm of my cock set her off again! "Good god, yes, god, god, yes," and she bucked once or twice, upping my agony. But then she settled again on my chest.

Her chin rested on my shoulder as we struggled for oxygen. My cock slid out, carrying the condom with it. "Let it go," she said, "it'll make a mess, but we can clean it up later," and she snuggled. I played with her hair and we dozed, then slept.

When I woke, Wendy was curled, with her back to me. I saw over her shoulder that it was nearly three. The condom was between my legs, oozing cum into a cold, wet puddle that was under one of my ass cheeks. 

I tried scooping the cum into the condom, but that was like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube. I gave up and headed for the bathroom, peed, and flushed the condom. With a wet warm cloth, I tiptoed back to bed.

After successfully cleaning the sheets, I rinsed the cloth and padded silently back to the room. Wendy shifted position. "Fuck me again, please," she murmured. She's having a dream, it's not me.

The laptop was cold on my crotch. Quickly downloading the photos, I skipped through the seventy or so shots, looking for her.

There were two that really were Julia-grade. The best one had her with a fork in her mouth, a very endearing expression on her face. The second one, a very slight profile, had caught her laughing at something, leaning forward in an earnest way to make a point. I cropped them both, put photo-quality paper in the printer, and teed them up for the morning.

She stirred as I pulled the sheet over us. "Hi."

"You too hi. Bathroom," I explained.

"Yeah, I should too," and she flitted out of the bed. Just then I heard the toilet flush. Pete! Or somebody who's sleeping with him.

"Hi Pete."

"Hi Wendy, how's it goin'?"

"Really nice." 

I was propped up against the headboard, my pillow behind me, when she returned. She spread out on the bed and put her head in my lap. My cock stirred and she patted it. 

"How'd it feel?" she asked.

"I forgot about it when we were fucking. But when you rolled it on, it wasn't particularly exciting. Maybe later."

"Yeah, you were thinking too much. When you're right on the edge, rolling it on that way is really erotic."

"How does it feel for you?"

"Not much different, really. The latex is thin enough that I can feel your warmth, and when I rippled you" — she leered — "I felt you just fine.

"The nice thing about condoms is that there is no mess in bed. One of the things I like about bareback is that you can linger in me as you get soft, then slide out. But with a condom you should pull out while you're at least slightly hard, so it doesn't get stuck inside me. And YOU have to take charge of disposing of it. Tissues, wastebasket, something has to be available for disposal. Like I said, I hate sleeping in the wet spot." I was embarrassed.

"You wanna sleep in?"

"I'd like to, but I really can't. My exams don't matter, I'll get a B in each class, no matter what I get the degree. I'm antsy, so thank you, but I can't."

I stroked her face, then leaned to kiss her. "Well, okay, maybe till nine, then I've got to go."

She took my cock in her mouth and worked it slowly to firm, not hard, when I stopped her. 

"You've got me going, Wendy, but I want to eat you first. Please." This is going to be her last in-club fuck and I want to make it memorable.

"Okay," and with a smile she opened her legs for me. As I buried my face in her bush, I thought about how to do this with fireworks.

I started by working her pussy lips, one at a time, alternately sucking and tonguing. Soon she was moaning encouragement as she brought her thighs together, not clamping, just urging me to stay. 

When I slipped a wet finger into her pussy, she humped slightly and moaned again, so I brought my second finger inside and fluttered them. "Oh yeah, that's so nice, move around, like that, oh yesssss."

I attacked from a different angle and again she spiked. "Yesssss! God yes, do that again!"

As I was flickering inside her, she erupted in an orgasm. "God yes! Yes! Yes! Oh god yesssssssss! I'm cumming! Oh god! Oh god!" and her thighs grabbed my head.

She bounced up and down, taking my head and torso with her, writhing in her orgasm. She held my shoulders tight and clamped my face to her pussy with those thighs. Again and again she swirled herself against me. My tongue, my fingers, everything were in furious action.

*

"Are you okay? Please Carl, talk to me, Carl, please."

I was on my back with a very worried Wendy bent over me. "Oh thank god you're okay! I'm sorry, I apologize, I'm so sorry."

"What happened?"

"I think you blacked out." I blinked.

"You were eating me to this end-of-the-world orgasm when, all of a sudden, you went limp. Here, tell me how many fingers I'm holding up"

"Three."

"Good! Oh god, I am so relieved."

I drifted for a few minutes. When I opened my eyes, Wendy was beside me, stroking my cheek and kissing my forehead.

"Wow," I said, feeling better. "You do this to all the boys?"

"Smartass," and she smacked my shoulder. "No, not even close. You gave me the most incredible orgasm. I really got carried away." She kissed me.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 07



I rolled to face her. "How about —"

"Like I said, only till nine." She paused, considering. "Sleep, I'll wake you up in plenty of time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

*

Wendy's version of a wake-up call was sucking my cock to hardness, which she was well along in doing when I found out about it.

"Feeling okay?"

"Feeling fine," I said, and I brushed her curls affectionately. "You had quite an effect on me."

"Oh god," she said, "I am so sorry about that. I didn't mean —"

"Oh no, That was something I'll never experience again, and I'll always remember it." I ran the side of my fingers lightly across her cheek. "No, I mean this," and I spasmed my cock, "Waking up with you sucking me is really nice." 

She resumed bobbing, with her eyes locked on mine. At times she would just hold my cockhead between her lips and tongue it. When she went down, it was all the way into her throat, and when she came up she used her tongue to slowly jack me.

I wasn't concentrating on holding off, but I didn't want to cum right then either. I was just going along as she took me close, then dropped off, then close, then off again.

"Fuck me, Carl, missionary, slowly," and she took my hand in hers and rolled onto her back.

I suspended myself over her and slid inside. Her shallow breathing caught as my pubic bone arrived at her clit. I rubbed against her and she moaned deeply from her chest. We kissed softly and fucked slowly, she doing little more than holding my shoulders and arching at me as I pushed into her, occasionally squeezing my cock with her pussy as I stroked.

But my excitement was building, I couldn't go on this way forever. "We're going to cum, Wendy, soon now," I said, softly.

"I know, let's step it up," she whispered back. She humped a little harder against me, at just the right time, to engage her clit.

We were closing in on our climaxes when she gripped my ass with her heels, making the pubic collision violent. "I'm gonna cum, Wendy, I can feel it."

"Me too, oh god, yes, yes," and she slammed herself into me and held me inside her as she swirled her hips, squeezing my cock.

I came, quietly for me. She came, more noisily, but quiet for her, too. I fell onto her after my first spurt, so I was pumping and cumming with my pelvis, no power, just short strokes.

Finally we rolled onto our sides and locked eyes.

"That was wonderful, I know it was wonderful, almost ethereal." I went soft and slid out. We lay there, panting, and even after we regained our breath we just lay beside each other, my hand on her belly, her hand on mine..

"I'm remembering something.

"He was sweet, a virgin like me. We got lucky when my parents went away for the weekend to get the summer house set up. He came over around noon on Saturday and we both knew what was going to happen, since we'd been closing in on it for a month.

"I had condoms and he'd gotten some too. After we had undressed ourselves, we got into my bed and I rolled one of mine onto him, but it was too big. We laughed and laughed! His were the right size and soon we were trying to get him inside me. 

"Everything went wrong. Every time we tried he'd pull some pussy hair with him and it hurt, or he'd miss and get embarrassed. After four tries he went soft, so we gave up and just cuddled and fell asleep. Around two we woke up and decided to try again.

"I got some scissors and we trimmed my pussy back pretty far, but he couldn't get hard. We decided to got dressed and start all over again. As we made the bed we spread a towel in the right place, then walked downstairs and pretended he had just arrived.  

"We sat in the living room and politely discussed something or another. I asked him if he wanted to see my room and he said 'sure.'

"I closed and locked the door and we faced each other at the foot of my bed. His cock was bulging his pants and I lost it. I yanked his zipper down. That set us both off. When we were naked I grabbed his cock and pulled him to me. He had the condom in his hand and pulled away so he could roll it on, then shoved me back, got between my legs and pushed, hard.

"God it hurt. But he was in. He was in a frenzy, pumping me. I was stunned! He came quickly, maybe five strokes. I didn't get much out of it.

"He apologized for everything, but within twenty minutes he was gone. I decided I would never do it with him again.

"I don't know why I'm thinking about this now. I haven't thought about him in a couple of years."

"It seems like it's sort of a mirror to what just happened. We both know we're parting, we'll never be lovers again."

"That's probably it. Hurting you the way I did —" I started to protest but she held up her hand — "means I can't ever go back to you."

"But friends?" I was hopeful. "Not like breaking-up-and-lying-about-eternal-friendship, but really friends?"

"Yes. I'd like that." And we kissed. And dozed.

I woke around 9:30, knowing that I really didn't have anything I had to do today, but that she did. She stirred.

"Shower?"

"Yeah, but I really do have to go. No hanky-panky."

We were dressing when I remembered the photos. I hit "print" and gave them to her.

"They're beautiful."

"They're you, both of them."

May I keep them?"

"Yes. Please."

*

Exams went really well. I pulled all my midterms up and got an A in four courses and a B in my weakest. I called my parents to tell them the good news and arranged for them to meet me at the bus station late Thursday afternoon. 

On the bus, my cell beeped with a cryptic text from Julia: "Full Stop." 

The first Google entry read "Full stop (British English) or period (American English) (sometimes point or dot) is the punctuation mark commonly placed at the end of sentences." I replied with a smiley face.

My eyes filled. What's this about? So she got her period. She's not pregnant. Of course not. She took care of that. Herself. She wanted me to know.

*

It was my 16-year-old sister Chrissy who met me at the bus station. She smiled tentatively as I humped my duffle bag and backpack off the bus.

"Mom had to work on some school stuff so she asked me to come get you." Mom was a principal at a high school in a nearby district, a demanding job. Even though the bus station was only twenty minutes away, she must have had to stay.

"So you've got your license?"

Chrissy beamed. "Yes! And I've already got 60 hours in the bank, including four on the interstate." When you had 100 parent-certified hours of road time and passed a second exam, the state let under-18s drive at night.

"Congratulations!" I kissed her, brother-like, on her cheek. She stepped back and looked me up and down.

"Oooooo, things have changed." I blushed.

On the ride home, Chrissy chattered on about grandma and her new husband's latest cruise, the high-school band's trip to the regional semi-finals (she plays trumpet), and a couple of my old crowd. 

"The goth girl, what's-her-name, she dropped out of community college and's working at the 7-11. And Andy, the computer nerd, he's the part-time electronics section manager at Target. He cleans up pretty well." I'd always thought she had a small crush on Andy, who was two years younger than me.

At dinner I regaled mom, dad, and Chrissy with tales from my life as a dorm-room cleaner. "You would be amazed at how much junk kids have in their dorm rooms. One day we found a snake, two starving puppies, and a small meth lab."

"In the same room?!" asked dad.

"Oh no, different rooms." At Christmas I would have sneered "ob-vi-ous-ly."

"What happened?" Mom-the-administrator leaned into the conversation.

"The SPCA took the puppies and the snake, and the police staked out the lab and busted the three girls." Dad laughed and mom shot him a look. "Well, Helen, girls are bad too, nowadays."

The conversation veered to my summer plans. "This research project is really interesting. I'm doing the video of 150 interviews and then we'll computer-analyze them to see if there's a way to see if someone's telling the truth when we asked the personal questions."

"Sounds intrusive," dad probed.

"First we ask a lot of fact questions, then we slip in the personal stuff. If the expression and body language from the fact questions doesn't change, the theory is that that means the subject is answering truthfully on the personal questions. If it does change, then we think they're not being truthful."

"A lot of assumptions." Dad wasn't an engineer for nothing.

"Well, that's what research is for, right?"

After dinner I took my dufflebag and backpack up to my room. Mom had left it alone and it was the same old lair, dark. I opened the curtains, looking forward to the morning light. I emptied two years' worth of textbooks and notebooks into the bookcase, then lay down on my single bed.

Yeah, Chrissy, things really have changed. Six months ago I was surly with you and defensive with mom and dad's lame attempts at polite dinner conversation. I'm a better person for them now. Because I'm having sex? That's certainly part of it, but mostly because sex has helped me get a life. Or is it the other way around? Anyway, it would be really awkward fucking on this skinny bed.

"Can I talk to you?" It was Chrissy, leaning against the door frame.

"Sure. C'mon in." She spun my desk chair around and straddled it.

"Things good up there?"

"Things are very good. I'm getting a life."

"You're different. Got a girlfriend?"

"Not 'a' girlfriend, 'girl friends.' And guy friends. And doing things with people. And . . ."

"Sex?"

"That's pretty personal."

"You're going to spend the summer asking 150 complete strangers personal questions. I'm your sister."

"Close the door." She clicked it shut and re-straddled the chair.

"I'll be twenty in July. There are almost 16,000 students on campus, more than half of whom are girls. I take pictures, lots of them. I use a cloud storage site with six terabytes of space. A lot of the pictures are of girls."

She snorted. "You're not answering the question. For sure you've changed, I'm just not exactly sure how. You're much nicer, we saw that at dinner. So maybe it's just maturity, going away to college got you out of your shell. But I think you've got a girlfriend."

"I can't talk about my love life with my sister."

"Sure you can, you just aren't trying. I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."

"YOU have a love life?"

"Of course I do. I took notes about you in high school. You were sullen, dorky, and pushed away anybody who wanted to get close. Even goth girl, what's-her-name, she liked you a lot, but you were oblivious, or hostile. You jerked off every single night, lots of times in the shower in the morning. Sometimes you cried yourself to sleep. 

"Not me. I like people. My girlfriends and I are tight, I date, even mess around." She smiled, innocently. "Now that I have my license, dad lets me take him to the station and I have his car to drive to school."

"Love life," I reminded her.

"Yeah, well, okay, not sex, I mean not yet. But I've had boyfriends who tried real hard to get into my pants. A couple of us went to the Planned Parenthood clinic last month and got on the pill."

"But you're only 16!" I cried, protectively.

"You mean I'm already 16. Look, I swear half my class is doing it. Two of the girls have had pregnancy scares, and one of them was even on the pill. We talk about the best types of condoms. I surf a dozen porn sites regularly. I masturbate in the shower — that's the only positive thing I learned from you."

"Oh man I don't think I want to know all this," I said as my chest constricted.

"Well now you've heard about me. So dish."

"I can't. I mean, you're my sister."

She let out a big sigh. "Alright, I'll tell you what I think is going on. You were miserable your freshman year. You worked for Uncle Ted last summer and got a little social self-confidence. You went back to school, moved in with your roommate, what's-his-name —"

"Pete."

"— Pete, and he introduced you to someone. You fell head-over-heels for each other, spent a week in bed together, and still couldn't get enough. So you skipped spring break to be with her and she's why you're staying at school this summer, so you can live together. The job's just a cover. Am I right?"

"Partially."

"Which part?"

"My roommate's name is Pete."

"You're evading me, Carl. C'mon."

I took a deep breath, then exhaled.

"Look, this is kind of embarrassing. You know more about how I felt in high school than I did."

"You're a guy."

"Which means?"

"In your case it means you didn't let emotions get to you, you push away potential friends, you bottle everything up. Finally, somebody broke through, and you grabbed her for dear life."

"Suppose I told you it was a 'he'?"

"I'd say you're full of shit."

"Because?"

"Because of how you kissed me at the bus station."

"Okay. I'm not gonna get specific." Another deep breath, exhale, deeply, slow, prolong not saying anything. "But yes, I've got a love life. God this is hard! I'm not used to talking like this."

"It's okay, c'mon, you're doing fine."

I blew out again. "I met a wonderful girl. We went on a date, had dinner, went to a movie, then went back to the apartment. She gave me my first blowjob, then fucked me silly till morning. She kissed me at breakfast and told me she'd had a good time. I see her sometimes and we're friends."

"Oh that is soooooo sad. I'm sorry." 

"No, no, don't be. I'm not all torn up about it. It was the most wonderful experience of my life." I paused for effect, then continued. "There have been other girls since." 

Oh good! I don't want my big brother hurting."

"I'm not staying at school for a girl. This research project really is interesting. But I have gotten out of my shell, you're right about that. And god do I like sex!"

That was unsmart. "I mean, now that I'm in college."

"Ha! That's you, I'm me. We'll see how my junior year works out."

After lunch on Saturday, Chrissy drove me to the bus station. In the parking lot, waiting for departure time, we talked about things. She veered back to her love life.

"I think I'm going to do it this year." My stomach knotted, I probably turned four shades of pale.

"Oh don't look so shocked. Why shouldn't I?"

"You'll do it when you're ready. It's just that I had a place of my own, so I could take things easy. There was no stress about mom or dad catching us. Everything I've heard about doing it for the first time in the back seat of a car seems so, well, so . . ."

"Unromantic?"

"Yeah, I guess. Rushed. Sneaky. Awkward. My first time was great. We had time to be together, to do it a couple of times, to touch and play with each other's bodies." Whoa, tiger, way too candid. Tone it down. "I just can't imagine doing it in some of the ways I've heard about."

"Well, we'll see. I'm in no rush, nobody's gonna push me into anything."

"Have you considered asking mom to help you?"

"Eww! No! How could I? She'd freak out."

"She's probably seen a lot more stupid sex mistakes at her school than we can imagine. If you convinced her that it was going to happen anyway, maybe she'd work with you, help you find a way to do it right. I dunno, just a thought."

Chrissy kissed me. "You're sweet. Can we talk more about this sometime?"

"Sure, I'd love to." The bus honked. "Gotta go. I love you, Chris."

"I love you too, big bro. Bye."

*

The bus ride wiped me out and I slept till 10 the next morning. After cleaning out my inbox, I checked a bunch of Facebook friends. 

Cindy was in Seattle, at the company where her sister works. Pam was walking in Crete. Carol hadn't posted anything in two weeks. Gene's construction job was going well and he was getting muscles and a tan.

Kenny had gotten a last-minute job at a boy scout camp and was thrilled because there was a girl scout camp across the lake.

Linda was frazzled. It sounded like D. C. and the job were overwhelming her. I emailed her a cheer-up note.

Wendy was in heaven. She and Helen were settled in Brooklyn and she was thriving on the workload. She stumbled across a shoot of Law and Order and was made an extra on the spot by the lighting guy. She had a date with him later in the week.

Margery got the grades she wanted but didn't have the syllabus for her class yet, so she can't prepare for it. "Ruth's?" I texted. "See ya" came back.

Karen's in charge of tech at a big summer theater in Vermont. "Shakespeare, Beckett, Brecht, and The Wiz!" she wrote. Pete's living in a furnished room in the town where he's interning at his uncle's law firm, a world away from Suzi. He's lonely.

*

By three-thirty there were just six of us at Ruth's house: Margery, me, Lisa, and George (club members), Frank (George's friend), and Carrie (a Margery introducee). 

Ruth had laid out a small fruit plate, cookies, and soft drinks. We munched at the kitchen table, exchanging information about why we were still in town.

"You kept that job waiting tables at Literratica, Lisa?" 

"Yeah. The tips are good, I need the money. But mostly I like being there because I get my writing noticed. I won the spring 'Ratty' for a poem I wrote. They're going to publish it in their fall annual." 

"But it's a bar, right?" I asked.

"No. Well yes, actually, but it's more than a bar, it's the intellectual hangout and coffeehouse that everybody who's into literature around here goes to," she said proudly.

"It's got a reputation for launching new talent," she continued. "One winner of the 'Ratty' has had her book picked up by a major publisher and two other winners have had stories or poems published in little magazines." 

"Well I'm tending bar at SOL," mock-boasted Carrie. Everyone but me hooted.

"Okay, I'm game. What's SOL?"

"You go to college here?" Margery arched an eyebrow.

"Sure, but I'm not a drinker, so I don't hang around bars."

"SOL isn't a real bar. They let anybody in. I mean, the under-18 crowd," snarked Lisa. "It's a juice bar with music, older dudes hitting on 12-year-olds and vice-versa."

"They still give their drinks those funny names?" asked Frank, pitching a softball.

"Yeah. The new one is the 'Lolita,' it's doing well," replied Carrie, ignoring Lisa's shot. "The head bartender thinks it's cute to titillate the teenyboppers with suggestive names. Actually, he thinks it's fun to play with the older dudes' heads, too," and she laughed.

Frank and George had gotten hired for the dorm-cleaning gang. 

"If you're not going to be in the same room next year, you have to move all your stuff out of three of the dorm towers, to the storage cages they set up in the hockey arena and under the football stadium," said George. 

"That way, the university can rent the empty rooms to the students who are here for the summer programs. They hired a large temporary crew of us to clean every room, wax every floor, and paint every wall that needs it, all in ten days." 

"Hope you like surprises," I piped up. "Cindy and I did that during spring break. We found abandoned puppies, a big snake, and a meth lab."

"Otherwise, I don't have a job this summer," continued George. "Doesn't really matter. My parents always take this place up the woods and this year they want me and my sisters there all July and into August. It's a 'last time the whole family will be together' thing. Till then, I'm gonna hang out around the house, catch up on the reading I haven't done this year."

"The summer softball leagues on Cape Cod start in two weeks," said Frank. "I umpire there, my aunt and uncle own a bar in town."

"My prof has taken on too many responsibilities," said Margery. "She hired me as a teaching assistant, but I'm going to be doing way more than that.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 07



"She's got a book almost done, on a prairie photographer from the 1920s in South Dakota who published her pictures exclusively on postcards. She's overdue at the university press with the manuscript and has to finish it this summer, or else.

"And she's nearly overdue on two journal articles and a chapter in an anthology. I think I'm going to be doing research as well as teaching. I am going to be one busy girl."

"I am taking a vacation," Ruth said matter-of-factly. Margery and I exchanged startled looks, since we'd never heard her say anything about her personal life.

"Kewl! Where you going?" asked George.

" 'The Great Rivers of Europe.' It's a river cruise and six of us are going together. It'll be good food, lots of museums in twelve cities, no Wi-Fi or cell phones. I'll be away for four weeks."

We broke up around five-thirty. I asked Lisa if she wanted to eat dinner at the union. 

"Closed," she said. "But Lit does great burgers."

Because it was between semesters, with classes over and the summer students not yet around, the place was barely open. Lisa gave me a tour.

"We're a bar with food, a bookstore, and a stage, like the Greenwich Village and San Francisco coffeehouses of the fifties and sixties. It was a grocery store until about fifteen years ago, when Lit took it over. We have 92 seats plus the bar. It pays four of us decently.

"We make most of our money off the bar, but we discount bestsellers, poetry, and used copies of dead white male authors, and we have okay food. There's steady business during the week, with occasional poetry readings and jam sessions. It's a drinking and eating crowd, profs trying to seduce students, the usual stuff.

"But on weekends we're really busy. Fridays are open mic nights, Saturday and Sunday it's the better poetry and improv. 

"The cops insist we card everybody at the door and only admit over-18s with university IDs, which they say are more difficult to forge than driver licenses.

"This summer the university is testing combining the university's IDs and bursary cards into a debit card-slash-ID card. Lit's a beta-test site. We've got these snazzy new card readers at the door, they validate the card and show the official photo. No match, no entry. 

"If it works, we may get portable units so we can let anyone in and card them when they order. It ought to increase business a lot."

We sat at a back table and ordered burgers (bleu cheese for me, three cheeses for her). I couldn't get any worthwhile shots because of the dimness, so I put the camera away and ordered a beer.

"I thought you didn't drink. You made such a production about your first beer at the picnic."

"Did I? Well, it sure tasted good on that hot day. I'm trying out new things. This is the first time I've been in here, for instance."

"I sort of got that sense."

"Yeah. Actually, before Christmas I staked out the front door, with the idea of a photo essay on drunken college students staggering out of a bar." She frowned, but I defended myself. "You have to do what you have to do. I like the fact that you'll call a cab if they ask."

"Cutting people off is the part of the job I like least. Sometimes they get belligerent. There're a couple of buttons around that call the security guy if things get ugly. Usually, though, their friends take care of them.

She brightened. "But I get some good material from the repartee that's involved in cutting them off. I came in second in the winter Ratty contest with a back-and-forth on the subject of 'just one more.' Maybe we ought to see if I can write something to wrap around your photographs."

"Wanna come up and see my etchings?" It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Sure." We paid separately.

I pulled up the folder of the shoot, almost 400 pictures I'd taken during that lonely December. I gave her the chair and sat on the end of the bed watching her flip through them. She picked out a dozen and I made a summary sheet.

"You're good at this, Carl. I mean it. I've seen gallery exhibits in Chicago and New York where you could hold your own. They really tell a story. I think I can find some words." I slid everything into a manila envelope, closed it, and we stood.

And came together. I pulled her ass into my erection while she jammed her face into mine. We ground together and tried to suck each other's tongues into our mouths. 

"I'm gonna get you naked," she puffed, pulling my shirt out of my pants as I staggered to lever out of my sneakers. I opened my belt and she yanked my zipper down and quickly had everything in a puddle. She tickled my balls and squeezed my cock.

My tongue fluttered across her insteps as I slid off her right sandal, then the left one. Each time she moaned, which made my cock even harder.

She had her shirt and bra off by the time I stood. Her breasts were really small. 

I popped the button at the top of her beltless pants and yanked them down. From my squat I was face-to-face with her matted brown bush.

Her pussy smelled ready. I cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her to my face, aiming for her slim pussy lips, and got "ummmm ohhhh" as I probed with my tongue. She ground into my face and began humping.

"It's so fast, god so fast, I'm so hot for you, I'm —" as she humped my face again, hard. Suddenly, soundlessly, she stiffened and shook, pulled me even tighter into her, bounced against me twice, and slumped. 

I managed to get us onto the bed and we lay tight together. Her erratic breathing eased as I caressed her sweaty cheek. Her forehead was plastered with her long curls. I kissed her softly. 

"Did you get the license plate of the truck?" she croaked.

"No. Why would you want it?"

"So I can track him down and make him do that again."

We slid between the sheets and I pulled her on top of me. "What do you like? I owe you big time," she smiled as she ground her pussy against my flattened cock.

"I'm so boring, I like missionary. But do you have any special way of warming a boy up?"

"Tell ya what I'm gonna do," she said, as she sat up, straddled my hips, and took my growing hardness in her hands. "I'm gonna suck you till you're eleven feet long, then I'm gonna pussy-squeeze your cock into the diameter of a pencil, Then I'm gonna make you cum like a fountain. All in fifteen minutes."

"You'd do that for a guy you've just met?"

"If he'll do me the small favor of making me cum like that again, you betcha."

We sixty-nined. Between what was left after I ate her and her own juices, Lisa was wet and turned on. Her clit easily popped from behind its hood as I tongued her and flicked the little nubbin.

"Oh god, that's nice," I said as she slurped my cock.

She shifted around a little, for more leverage. I stabilized her with my hands on her ass and lightly touched her asshole, just to see what would happen. She ground her pussy into my face and pushed her hips at the shaky pedestal of my tongue.

The last time I'd been smothered by a pussy, I'd blacked out, so I lifted her top leg up, to create an airway. "I feel awkward that way," she said, pulling off my cock.

"Would it work better if you lay on top of me?"

"Let's see," and she shifted onto my chest. "Yeah, this'll work. C'mon, you've got my motor running." I could reach her tiny breasts, so I started tweaking the nipples lightly, then harder.

"Mmmmf," she said, which I translated as "Oh god yes, so nice, keep doing that," because her mouth was full of cock.

I brushed her asshole again and she pushed her pussy further into my face, not enough to scare me but making it even easier to tongue her.

I wiggled my tongue and liberated her clit to its full length, maybe an inch. Pressing the shaft against my teeth got me nothing, but when I got the nub against my teeth and pressed hard with my tongue, she jerked and squealed as much as you can with a mouth full of cock. 

A slight dip of my finger into her asshole made her bounce her hips up, pull off my cock, then crash onto the bed beside me.

"I can't do it, you're distracting me," I heard her say from the other end of the bed.

"I didn't want an eleven-foot long pencil for a cock anyway. Let's declare it a tie and move on."

"Goodie, I like plain vanilla fucking too," and she swung around and was over me on all fours, her tiny breasts pointing downward. I moved away from the center and she flopped onto her back.

She spread her legs and I climbed between them and got inside her. She welcomed me with a pussy handshake and a swift hip swing. When she let go I started a fast pace. 

She wrapped her legs around my waist and suspended herself under me. We crashed again and again. The knowledge that someone else was controlling the belly-on-belly sounds was so exciting that I began to lose control.

"You're making me cum, I can feel it, it's starting —"

"Shut up and fuck me! C'mon, fuck me! I want to cum with you! Oh yeah, NOW you're fucking me right! Push it in harder! HARDER!"

I telegraphed my cumming and she wailed her excitement. "Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah! Cum in me! Cum! Oh goddddd, I'M CUMMING TOO, I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMMMING!"

My arms gave out and I landed my entire dead weight onto her, still spurting. Fearful of having hurt her, I did a one-armed pushup and she squirmed out from under me, unfortunately pulling away from my cock as she did so. 

"Oh my, have I just been fucked," she said, licking her dry lips to soften them.

"Me too. Did you see the license plate of that truck?"

"Truck? Oh, yeah, that truck. God, that was good."

I don't think I'd ever seen smaller breasts. They were virtually invisible on her chest as she lay there, except for the nipples. I idly stroked the left one and it stiffened invitingly, but she pulled away.

"Please don't, it's so sensitive. I'll do anything you want, just don't touch them right now." 

In the bathroom, I peed and cleaned myself, then brought a warm wet cloth to her and washed her thighs and pussy. As I was mopping the bed, she idly stroked my hair. When I came back, I flopped down beside her and we kissed sweetly.

"What's the Ratty? I mean, is it a thing, like the Oscar, a statuette?"

"No, just a certificate, suitable for framing. They post the winner on their website. If it's a performance they have a link to the YouTube video.

""Right now I am working really hard, trying to write something longer that will get published, get me noticed. 

"My mom, on the other hand, thinks I should major in elementary ed."

"From her point of view, writing and waiting tables probably don't seem like compelling career choices."

"If you have the drive, you've got to write all the time, so you make a living any way you can. Some writers were born into money, some worked as bank tellers. Many women writers had leisure to write because of who they were married to, while others practically starved." 

"So that's your path?"

"Yup. The Ratty is actually the fifth award I've won, not counting my high school awards. I've been included in three anthologies and I've been in group readings in Chicago and New York. And I just turned nineteen."

"So what're you doing in a dump like this?"

"Mom could be right, I could wind up having to teach somebody's puking, mewling kids their letters. I'm hedging my bets with a decent education at a good university. In effect, it's subsidized writing time, and I have to take advantage of it."

"Do you know how much I love your breasts?"

She stiffened. "My roommate had these two udders that she hated, but I'd have traded anything for,

"Frankly, it hurts when guys pass on me because I don't have a decent chest. I tried push-up bras, chest exercises, even stuffing my bra with tissue. Finally I realized that if a guy who likes big tits finds out he'd been fooled, what good has it done me? So I work on being attractive in other ways."

"I mean I like your breasts the way they are, small."

"You don't consider yourself a breast man?"

"I do, I am. Yours are wonderful. If your nipples are always as sensitive as they were just now, I'm in heaven."

Her eyes blazed. "Bullshit."

"May I?" and I slipped my mouth over the left nipple. "Ohhhh," she moaned as I softly pressed it against my teeth with my tongue. When I looked up at her, there was this soft smile on her lips. I popped off. "That is so erotic. Can I have my way with them for a little bit?"

"Let me suck your cock, you'll like that more," she offered.

"No, please, just let me do this. Let me give you pleasure."

She nodded and relaxed a little. I started by kissing her thighs, moving to the V where they joined her torso, then tongued for her clit, but I wanted those breasts.

I trailed my tongue around the soft outline of the left breast, the one she'd pulled away from me, trolling for a pleasure point. At about 7 o'clock she moaned a little, and then again at 4. Triangulating between those two points and the nipple, I tongued, kissed, and lightly tweaked the nipple with my lips, and she moaned in pleasure. 

Shifting position so that I could finger her pussy as I worked the breast, I pushed aside the hood over her clit. It was back to small, but I persisted and Lisa wiggled her hips. "Niiiice," she cooed.

I played with her clit with one hand and twisted her nipple, then took it in my mouth and nipped it while I swirled two fingers around her clit and into her pussy. 

By now she was breathing really heavily. I pulled my fingers out of her pussy to focus on her breast. The 7 o'clock spot was more sensitive, so I tweaked the nipple with my wet fingers and tongued there. I sensed she was building to some sort of climax so I nipped at the nipple again.

"Oh god yesssss! My god that's gooood! Don't stop! Please! Keep going! Finger my clit! Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!" She clamped her thighs together and writhed. "Oh yessss, yesssss! Godddddd!"

I'd kept my eyes on her face as she closed in on her orgasm, watching as the paroxysm of pleasure, pain, and satisfaction played itself out. When she settled onto the bed, I moved beside her and licked the sweat on her face.

"You're an apparition, right? Some sort of an avatar? No one has ever done it that way to me."

"Their loss. Can I play with the other one now?"

"No! Absolutely not! It would only be less wonderful than what you just did." She took my lips and kissed me, hard, then slowly, softly. 

It was almost midnight, so we spooned and fell asleep.

*

I'll never tire of wake-up blowjobs. Lisa's long curls framed a slowly bobbing head and her eyes were smiling at me as she came into focus. "Mmmmf" she said, which I translated as "g'morning sailor."

I came, and she slugged it down. As I softened, she cleaned me off, then flopped beside me and we kissed, swapping saliva and cum. It was six and the sun was rising.

"Need to get an early start?"

"Not really, but I do find I write better on a full stomach," and she patted her belly.

"I've gotta call Dr. Draper to see if he wants me to start today. C'mon, let's shower." She wanted to blow me again in the shower but I wanted to fuck, in bed. I soaped her all over, especially her asshole. I nibbled both of her breasts and she squealed.

In bed we coupled fast and beat against each other. She came first and made me pull out, she was that sensitive.

I was still hard, very hard. "Do I have to blow you again to get that thing down?" she smirked.

"That's okay, I'll take care of it," I bluffed.

"Goodie! I've never watched a guy jack himself off." 

I think she's serious.

"You taking notes?"

"Yeah, maybe. You'll find out in my first book."

She gave me a helpful slurp, then popped off and settled beside me. I wasn't surprised that I didn't cum quickly, but with an attentive if non-participating audience I was soon at the five minute mark with no end in sight. 

She sucked me again, a lot longer this time, and soon I was getting into it. 

"Here it comes! Watch out for flying cum!" and I shot two decent ropes and a squirt. I watched in astonishment as she lapped up every drop of cooling cum from my belly, then cleaned my floppy cock.

"I'm what's called a cumslut," she said, answering the question in my eyes. We showered again, dried each other, dressed, and marched off to a breakfast place she knew. I tried to pay but she insisted on splitting the bill. 

"Gotta play by the rules, otherwise Ruth won't let us date."



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 08



"We're the only psychological research going this summer," said Professor Draper ("call me Don," he instructed when he hired me to do video for his research project this summer). He and Anna, his assistant, were showing me the place where Anna and I would be working the next seven weeks.

The lab looked like what you see on TV cop shows — mirrored glass wall with an observation room behind it, a metal table and two metal chairs, no windows. Add the reception area and you had room 402 in the psych building. 

Don had offered me the job because he needed someone immediately, someone who could process, upload, and store large computer files. I certainly wasn't hired because I knew anything about videography. I'm a photographer.

But here I was, at the earliest stage of setting up the technical side of his research project, which involved video-recording a hundred and fifty interviews, each lasting about forty minutes.

"You want to tape the guy you're interviewing head on, right?" I ventured. Don nodded. 

"Well, since the room is so narrow, the camera either goes behind the glass or I set up at the end."

"If you're in the room, they'll be distracted. We'd have to build a wall to hide you," said Anna.

Naah," said Don, "we don't have the money and the administration'll never spring for the cost." 

"Can you shoot through the glass?" Anna asked.

"I've never shot anything through glass. Let's look," I said, and we moved to the observation room.

"Won't work," I concluded. "The mirroring makes the glass cloudy and the glass is pretty thick, it'll create distortion."

"What we have here is a problem," said Don.

"Could you get another place?"

"This is it." He looked glum.

"I've seen ads for remote cameras that are really small," I said, tentatively. "They're about the size of a fist. They have good lenses and a wireless connection, so I could run it from my laptop and control the camera from here. You wouldn't need to build anything and they'll never see me."

"I thought you didn't know anything about video," said Don.

"I don't, but I do know how much it changes things when the subject is constantly reminded he's being watched."

I was thinking. "Doesn't the university have a distant learning program going?"

"Yeah. They sell Psych 101 to the community colleges — cheaper than a real teacher! I've never been in that lecture hall, though."

"Maybe you could ask them for help."

"All right," Don said, "decision made. You do whatever needs to be done and call purchasing to change the order — shouldn't be too much trouble, we only placed it yesterday. So long as you stay within budget, of course."

And he and Anna took off for a meeting.

I am REALLY in over my head here. What now? 

By the end of the day I'd found Tom, who worked for the university setting up distant learning classrooms, and he'd selected the equipment. Purchasing grumbled but Tom calmed them down and we completely revamped the order. 

To get the gear here by Friday, we had to pay for "expedited shipping," which wasn't in the budget. I authorized it anyway. When I called Don, he was relieved that it was on its way and didn't quibble about the shipping.

To thank Tom for his generosity in helping me, I invited him for an after-work drink at Literratica. The place was dead but it brightened considerably when Lisa appeared.

"Can I take your— Carl! Hi."

"Hi Lisa. Tom, this is Lisa. Lisa, Tom. Tom's the genius who's helping us set up the interview video system." Tom beamed.

"It's just wraps tonight, I'm afraid. We're short-staffed till the summer hordes arrive, so we're cleaning the kitchen with a toothbrush, particularly the grill." Tom ordered a Coors, I had a Sprite.

"Distant learning is finally entering the mainstream," said Tom. "It's been around since television came in, but the costs have come down to the point where now every medium-sized business has a room equipped for video-conferencing. Universities love it because they can spread the cost of a professor over a greater number of students. 

"What got you get into this?" he asked.

"I don't know anything about video, I'm a photographer," I said, laying my camera on the table. "All I did was mention remote cameras and my knowledge was exhausted. Professor Draper just decided on the spot that I should design and purchase the setup, and then he took off! Man, am I grateful to you for getting me through this."

"Glad to help. It's simple enough. What you're doing is a small TV show. Have you ever done theater tech?"

"Nope. But," I smiled, "I have a friend who does that at the Carpenter."

"Karen?" 

"Yeah. You know her?"

He grinned. "Yeah, used to date her. She's so intense, it was tough to get her attention. Is she around this summer? She could get you up and running in no time."

"Vermont, some theater program."

"Give her a call, she really knows how this stuff works in real time."

*

"Tom's right. It's simple enough. Look, here's the software," and she rattled off the names of the vendors and programs. I made her repeat them slowly so I could write them down.

It was Wednesday night, late. I'd called Tuesday morning but she hadn't returned the call till now, and I'd been afraid she wouldn't.

"Is this stuff intuitive? I can probably figure out the camera with a little trial-and-error, but it'll take a while to learn the control suite, won't it?"

"Tom's really good at this stuff, he'll help you. And I can sit in by phone, even hook up to your computer and walk you through it. They give you a decent laptop for this?"

We talked tech for a while, concluding that I should do a dummy interview as soon as everything was set up.

"When do the real interviews start?"

"Draper wants to start as soon as possible. He's got an ad set for the first summer issue of the student newspaper, day after tomorrow. The overall research director has hooked us into his website and database where they have online application and receipt forms, a program to send emails from the database, and the statistical sampling program for selecting subjects. Draper's given me two file drawers for the paperwork. 

"I think by the end of the first week of classes we could be in full swing."

*

All through exams I'd masturbated every night, to relieve the tension. But since fucking Lisa on Sunday and starting the job on Monday, I'd zoned out about sex. Now it was Thursday morning and I had the day free, and maybe tomorrow too, depending on when the equipment arrived.

On the way to the ag school with Julia, I'd noticed a small park on the outskirts of town. There was a stand of trees, a couple of picnic benches, and a view of the vast farm field. Perfect.

I called Ruth to borrow her car. "Sure, but I need it back by four."

*

"I know you work nights, Lisa, but could you squeeze out a couple of hours for a picnic in the countryside this afternoon? I'm waiting for the gear to arrive and I'm bored."

"And horney?"

"Am I that transparent? Yes, horney."

"I am too. It's not usually a good idea for me to break my routine. I'm working on a great short story. But," she mused, "it's kinda ragged. I need a break. Yeah, let's go." We agreed I'd pick her up at noon.

My plaid blanket, a half dozen chilled bottles of sparking water, assorted cold cuts, a whole loaf of bread and a bread knife, what else? Oh yeah, glasses, plates, napkins, lettuce, mayonnaise. 

Now I know why Ruth stopped doing the picnics.

The food store had a special on picnic baskets, packed with everything for a quality four-person picnic, even a small spray bottle of bug repellant. I added a cooler, bought some ice, and stowed everything.

"Got the jigglies?" Lisa teased when I arrived at her room ten minutes early. Like me, she was wearing cargo shorts and sandals. Her four-button blouse had ruffles on the front and her ringlets tumbled over her shoulders, framing her face. 

"You are so crude," I teased back. "Everything fell into place, so I figured, carpe diem." She had a bag of grapes, which we tossed into the cooler.

The rutted pulloff was dusty, the grass hadn't been cut in weeks, there were bugs were all over the place, and the sun was broiling. "It's perfect," said the sweating Lisa as we spread the blanket.

I sprayed the bug repellant. Lisa had thought to bring sun screen, lip gloss, and two pairs of cheap sun glasses. As we began spreading out the food, she admitted that the sun was just too much and we moved into the shade. 

"NOW it's perfect," I said. The trees provided not only shade but obscured any view of us from the road. We shucked our sandals.

I asked about the story she was working on. "Please don't be offended, but I'm here because I want to get away from it. Tell me what you're doing."

I explained how Tom had helped devise the video system and that Karen had offered advice about software. "It's not our parents' camcorder any more. Digital, wireless, built-in autofocus, much better sound, you run everything off a laptop." We ate, occasionally locking eyes and smiling.

Sandwiches done, I opened the cooler and we each plucked a few grapes from the stalk. Then I offered her a grape on the very tips of my fingers. She took it with her lips, sucked it into her mouth, then slowly pushed it back out.

"Wanta grape?" she whispered.

My lips took the grape and we kissed, softly. We broke and she laid her head in my lap and I fed her another grape. She crushed it with her teeth, drank down the juice, and sighed. 

Opening the buttons of her blouse revealed her two tiny, unfettered breasts. I took the coldest grape I could find, trailed it across both nipples, then down the space between her breasts.

"Cold, tickles," she giggled softly.

I fed her the grape and she crushed it, letting the juice run out the side of her mouth and drip onto my lap.

Trailing the next grape across her breasts, but from the opposite direction, I offered it to her. As her lips reached for it, I retracted it, crushed it with my teeth and offered my mouth. We kissed softly, exchanging the juice.

The bending was too awkward to continue, but Lisa took advantage of it and rolled my shirt off. I lay down beside her, the grapes and her breasts within reach, and we finished removing her blouse. 

I sucked the nipple of her left breast, wandering my fingers around to 4 o'clock and 7 o'clock. I nipped the absolute tip of the nipple and she shivered and murmured "oh that's nice" as she raked her fingers through my hair. 

She squealed when I took the coldest grape I could find and dropped it into her navel. When I sucked it out and then blew a huge foghorn, she squealed again and practically levitated.

Her breathing was ragged as I opened her shorts. As with her blouse, I found nothing underneath. 

First with one finger, then two, I worked her pussy, sliding to her clitoral hood and teasing out the ready stalk. She closed her eyes and murmured "Oh Carl, so good, so very good."

She moaned as I shifted to kneel between her legs, rubbing her clit with a grape. "Yes, yes yes yes, oh god yessss, god yes."

I hadn't been tonguing her clit for thirty seconds when she exploded under me. "Oh yes, so fucking good! Make me cum! I'm cumming!" I had pushed my face down at the first sign of the dreaded thigh clamp, so while I was breathing very heavily, I had oxygen.

Just as she was starting to settle, a tiny dip with my little finger into her asshole set her off, this time softly. "Oh god yesssss, I'm cumming, sooooo goooood," as she licked her lips and swung her head, then slowly floated back to the blanket.

I caressed her sweaty chest and slid my jockey-less shorts off with my free hand. Her nipples were so super-sensitive that even in her euphoric state, my touch made her pull away. 

"I'm still seeing stars," she finally gasped, recovering. I tried again for a nipple but she pushed my finger away. 

"No Carl, please no, they're sooo sensitive, I love it when you touch them, but please not now, please." The rejection, even for the right reason, deflated my cock.

So I moved to kiss her forehead, pushing the wet curls aside with my lips as she idly stroked my cock. "Make my day, lover, get hard, get hard," and she tweaked the cockhead.

"Ouch!"

"Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." 

"No pain, no gain," I clichéd as the pain disappeared. "But now that you're back among the conscious, can I play with you some more?"

"Are you a machine? Let me do something for you. Please, I want to."

"You just did it. You let me give you two orgasms, and I think there are more where those came from. I never have gotten very friendly with this" — I touched her right nipple — "one."

"I'm naked, so are you, and all you can think of is nipple? You ever hear of fucking?"

"Vague rumors, but —" by then she had my cock in her mouth and was plunging on it.

Surprisingly enough, I got hard.

"Cowgirl, please cowgirl, let me have your breasts, please Lisa."

"Okay, okay," and she pushed me onto my back, swung into the saddle, and slid down my cock.

"None of this pencil-thin stuff, okay?" I reminded her of our last encounter.

"Nah, it'd ruin the fun. But fountains of cum, yeah, that'll happen," and she started to fuck my cock.

I wasn't coherent enough to remember which breast was the left one (to leave it alone), so I palmed them both and twisted each nipple. "Oh yeah, fuck yeah, that's good," she said between plunges.

As I was losing control, I grabbed her hips as she was swirling them and held her in place just above my hips and probed into every fold of her pussy with my cock. 

"You are going to irrigate every square inch of me," she puffed, "cum for me now, cum, cum, CUM!" and she squeezed. I let go, and then I came.

The first cannonade was on her up-stroke, and she felt it. "Good, good, oh goooood, I gotcha!" She squeezed me again, then leaned forward and supported herself on her hands and knees as she swiveled her hips. Sometimes she squeezed, sometimes she went up and down, but she got four ejaculations before I made her stop.

We clasped, gasping, our racing hearts slamming against the other.

"Hooray, hooray, for the first of May, outdoor fucking begins that day," I puffed.

"Little late, aren't you?"

"Begins that day, not ends that day."

"Oh yeah, right."

"Please tell me we can do this again in about fifteen minutes," I rasped.

"I'm on break Carl, can't stay away all day. And don't you have to get the car back to Ruth?"

I jumped. "Oh yeah, I forgot." I grabbed for my shorts and fished my cell out. "Three-fifteen. Oh Lisa, I'm so sorry, we have to get back real soon."

We lay there, watching the sky go by, for maybe ten minutes. But we did have to go. She pulled a pair of panties from the pocket of her shorts and dropped a paper napkin into the crotch. I swabbed the blanket and folded it. Basket, cooler, and blanket got stowed in the back seat and we scattered gravel as we pulled onto the pavement. I stopped just outside of town to fill the tank.

She blew me a kiss and strode purposefully toward her dorm.

*

"I filled the tank."

"Oh you didn't need to. I'm just getting food enough for the next two days, then I'm putting it up on blocks for a month."

"Nobody does that any more, do they?"

"No, but that's the way I'm feeling about it. It's a great car, and Stuart always disconnected the battery and drained the gas tank if we weren't going to use it for more than two weeks." I barely heard the catch in her voice.

"But she really needs to move, shouldn't sit for four weeks. 

"Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What?"

"She's due for her sixty-thousand mile servicing pretty soon. If you'll see to it that it's done on time, you can use it while I'm away."

Visions of Bogart and Bergman flashed through my head. Wheels!

"I'd love to, sure."

*

I was at her door the next morning, shortly after her email arrived. 

"Here's three copies of a permission letter, the registration and two scans of the registration, and my second set of keys. I've asked the police to keep an eye on the house, so here're two copies of a letter in case they're concerned about your being around. This is the key for the kitchen door, if you need to get in for any reason. 

"And this," she said, pointing to a sheet of paper, "is the super-secret email and telephone number of the tour company. They can reach the barge if they have to. 

"Get in touch if there is something vital that only I have to deal with. Short of the place burning down, no, not even then, because I couldn't do anything about it. If I can't fix it, don't call. Okay?"

"Okay. You're going to enjoy yourself, aren't you?"

"You betcha! I am so excited! We leave tomorrow! I know you'll take care of things." We shook hands and she hugged me. 

"Have a great summer, Carl."

*

The video equipment arrived that afternoon, just before Marilyn, Don's secretary, was leaving for the weekend. She gave me the keys to the lab so I could stow the boxes there. She also gave me a thick manila envelope.

"These are the technical specifications. Margolin, the senior researcher, is really hyper about the camera angle, says his analytic software won't work if you're not pinpoint accurate with the video."

"I do accurate," I boasted. "And consistent. Besides, we're going to do some test interviews to check things next week, once we get it all set up, and we'll send them to him." I took the equipment to the lab and locked it up. I would read the specs after dinner.

*

She answered on the first ring. "Hi Margery. Free for dinner?"

"My savior! You're whisking me away from drudgery. Where shall we dine?"

"Since I'm getting social these days, let's visit Carrie at SOL."

Like Lit earlier in the week, SOL was barely open. Carrie was glad for the company.

"Kitchen's closed, I'm afraid," she said as we perched ourselves at the bar and announced we were hungry. "We're washing everything in preparation for the health department's swing through town early next week. Wanta Lolita? It'll be the most interesting thing here tonight. No music till next week."

"Would I be in any danger?" Margery asked demurely, head-gesturing to me as she lowered her eyes. 

"He can't get you drunk here, that's for sure," she snorted, pointing to the very visible sign behind the bar: "No Alcohol Served In Any Drinks." 

After a few minutes, we were the only customers in the place, so Carrie joined us.

"I've never been in here," I confessed. "What's the story?" It was dim, the only light in the early evening being from the filthy skylights at the peak of the two story roof. 

"SOL's been here for about ten years. It started about a year after Literratica, up the street. They got their liquor license and, since the State Liquor Authority won't allow two licenses on the same block in college towns, we don't have one. So we've got a different business model.

"We're entertainment central. Lecherous professors, teenyboppers looking for their first 'real' experience, lonely people wanting a place to drink coffee and read, whatever, everybody's welcome. 

"Since we don't have liquor, we let everybody in. But you have to be a member. You buy a card and we punch out the cover charge every time you come in. It's as little as two dollars during the day, but at lunch we rebate the cover with the food. It's more at night and when we have a show, and extra for admission to the show itself. That's how we make our nut."

"What's S-O-L stand for? Everybody uses the initials and I always see it in capital letters."

"Yeah, we just say it like it's three letters, S-O-L. It's a play on sun. The logo is a sun symbol. I've seen old menus with four different logos, but all sun symbols. The big one on the front of the building is the rising sun. We're always fending off weirdoes who think we're some sort of astrology store.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 08



"This place rocks from Friday to Sunday night. The high ceiling makes a wicked echo chamber. We book touring bands, local bands, standup comics, anything that the students want. C'mon," she stood, "I'll show you around.

"You came through the front door. The food and bar area is here. We serve anything the SLA doesn't regulate, from bottled water to dozens of different coffees to hard cider. And of course the 'cocktails.' The library space and lounge over there," she gestured to the right corner, "brings in enough traffic during lunch to keep two servers busy. 

"Here," she narrated as we walked through a wide single door in the floor-to-ceiling wall, "is the show space. It's maybe 125 feet deep and seventy-five feet wide, with two stages. It's set up so that a curtain can be pulled across to close off the back when we don't expect a very large crowd."

"Must be wickedly noisy in the bar during show time," I suggested.

"Did you look at that wall? It's two feet thick, as soundproof as you can get, floor to ceiling. The door is also sound-proof, slides shut. You know something's happening, but it's not anywhere near overwhelming.

"On show nights you can enter directly from the parking lot out back and only pay one admission. We set up ala carte bar and food wagons during the show."

"Skylights!" I said, pointing to the roof. "What was this place?"

"I don't know how it started out, but it had been vacant for a while when the owner bought it. Somebody heard it was the first Ford dealership in town, and that this was the repair shop. The skylights would have been cheaper than electricity."

My Lolita was very tasty, I felt the non-existent alcohol. "You guys are good, this has a real zing."

Carrie smiled mysteriously. "Triumph of mixology. Secret formula."

Margery and I walked home. Sitting on the couch, I reached for her breasts. She put her hand over mine.

"It's my period, Carl. I'm going to blow you instead."

How could I turn down a blowjob from my first lover?

She had me sit on the foot of my bed as she did a strip tease. As her shirt, her bra, her shorts, and her panties came off, I became so excited that twice she had to remind me to breathe. She shimmied her breasts in my face, pulling back when I lunged for them. She waved her pussy at me, out of range, humping her hips in my direction. Finally she turned her back and bent for the clothes, swishing her ass, then spread her cheeks with her hands to reveal her puckered brown asshole.

"Now it's your turn," and she extended her hand and pulled me up. I stepped out of my sandals and she knelt to slowly lower my zipper, licking her lips as she went. My belt and button were next, and she let my jeans drop to the floor.

"Turn around."

Slowly she pulled my jockeys down, exposing my ass cheeks. She kissed one, then the other, then ran her fingers down my spine, through my ass crack, then cupped each cheek and squeezed, gently. 

"Bend over, lean on the bed."

As I did, she spread my cheeks and blew on my asshole. I jumped! She ran her finger from the bottom of my anus to my scrotum, stroked my balls, then sucked them into her mouth. 

And hummed! I was trembling, my knees weak, and my cock was jutting so far out that the end was in the next county.

"It's called tea-bagginig." She answered my unspoken question.

After a while she stood, rolled my shirt off, and tossed it somewhere.

"On your back, legs over the edge," and I scrambled to obey. She grabbed my shoulders. "Slowly, don't rush, erotic, you're gonna get blown, not beaten in a race."

She began licking my rod from its root to the tip. She rimmed the head, "ummm"-ing as she took the pre-cum in her mouth. Again she reminded me to breathe.

Cupping my balls and stroking them lightly, she ran a finger up my cock, stopping two or three times to squeeze the shaft, then resued stroking.

Three months ago I would have already lost it twice, and even now I had to fight for control.

With her eyes wide and locked on mine, she began to bob, jacking me softly as she went. She took me entirely into her mouth, down to the root, then slowly slid up to the top, and stayed there, jacking me softly as she sucked.

I felt the boiling cum begin to surge, and I arched my back to push my cock as far into her mouth as I could.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, cumming, god I love this!" 

She slurped down everything I gave her, her smiling eyes still locked on mine. I shot and shot, until I had nothing more to shoot, then collapsed onto the bed, soaked.

I pulled her up to me and kissed her furiously, my tongue seeking everything she had inside. I wanted to share my gratitude, and heat.

"You liked it?"

"Short answer? Yes. Long answer: Yeeeeeeah. god yes, that was wonderful," and I kissed her again.

We arranged ourselves more comfortably on the bed and cuddled. I stroked her hair, making sure I wasn't trying to turn her on, just affectionately, as she played with my belly hair.

"Job any better?"

"Carlucci is brilliant, but she is so overcommitted I don't see how she's going to get through the summer. Probably the best way would be for me to take the photographer's book on, since it's mostly writing the captions to the illustrations and placing them in the right location. But she has so much of this in her head, she'd probably spend more of her time giving me the information than it would take to do it herself.

"She could slough the class to a junior faculty member, but then she'd have to take on another class during the fall. And the articles only she can do.

"I hope she doesn't have a heart attack."

"We got the video gear this afternoon," I reported. "A guy from the AV department will help me set up tomorrow morning, and Karen will try to shake some time loose to walk me through the software if we can't make it work. I want to do a couple of dummy interviews to be sure the analysis software will handle what we're doing."

Margery shifted gears. 

"What do you think of Carrie?"

"I like her. You in recruitment mode?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, you did bring her to Ruth's last week."

"She was at the picnic, too, I guess I didn't introduce you. She's three floors down from me. Since she's going to keep the same room next year, and she's working in town for the summer, they let her rent it."

"Sounds good. Ruth interviewed her yet?"

"Yes, and she likes her too. She's already on the pill and she's gone for the STD test, she'll give me the results over the weekend."

"So what's the problem?"

"She's a virgin."

"I would never have guessed."

"She has a real veneer of bravado, doesn't she? She's a freshman and she works close to full time at SOL to pay for school. Outside of studying, the only thing I know about her is that she plays softball.

"She's the classic, afraid-she'll-make-a-big-mistake girl, afraid she can't handle it."

"Sounds like the club is just what she needs."

"She'll be fine. She just needs to get started."

The light went on. "Me?"

"You'd be perfect."

"I'm not sure I've got the right experience. You of all people know that."

"It isn't quantity, Carl. It's attitude. Julia was on cloud nine after her first time. That's what makes me think you should be the one."

"How? Every lover I've had except Julia has been way more experienced than me. I didn't have to do anything, they presented themselves. I've been the student. Am I ready to be the teacher?"

"Julia says you were great. Besides," she paused, "we're a little short-handed this summer.

"And it's even more important than that. The club gets two, sometimes three or four, female virgins every year, and a couple of male virgins. Pete and Jason have taken care of the girls, but Jason's graduated and Pete's gonna be out of circulation."

They have this down to a system? 

"You know?"

"Yeah, he told me after he came back from Florida. Listen," she leaned into me, "this is serious. Girls who've already fucked adapt pretty easily to the club, once they understand about choice and variety. And male virgins jump in pretty quickly too —"

"Present company excepted, of course," I snickered.

"Present company took to it like a duck to water. You've worked out real well. Ruth was very impressed with you, right from the start."

This is getting pretty deep.

"But the female virgins, they're more complicated. We've made mistakes. 

"There's this hidden agenda that some of them have. No matter how much they deny it, they think the club is a shortcut to finding Mr. Right. They attach themselves like barnacles to their first or second lovers and have to be separated, gently but firmly. We've even had to ask two of them to leave.

"Ruth has a soft spot for the shy, bookish, lonely ones. They aren't always virgins, and the virgins aren't virgins because they were locked away until they hit college. They've got urges, and they know it, but they're afraid they'll get hurt.

"Ruth spends a lot of time with them before she even mentions the club. 

"By the time she broaches the idea, she's pretty sure they're ready. But they still have to put that token on the board. And we have to make sure that the right guy covers it.

"Am I making sense?"

"Yes. It just never dawned on me that you and Ruth, and Pete I guess, had this whole thing worked out."

"It's not just Pete and me. Jason, bless him, he's so easy to work with. And Helen. She took on her share of the boys — actually she'd take them ALL on, at the same time, if we'd let her, but some of the rest of us like to have our share.

"We are very systematic," she plunged on. "And you're in deep, already," she leered. "Pete says you're someone who can take on multiple roles. Virgin-slayer is only one of them.

"Jason and Helen are gone, and Pete might aw well be. So it's just me and Ruth as the executive committee. We need you and one or two others.

"As far as we can tell, we're gonna lose between twelve and fifteen members due to graduation or dropping out. Not that we have to keep the numbers at exactly fifty, but we do have to keep the male-female ratio right. But numbers matter too.

"Ruth's got what she calls a 'co-conspirator' in the library, Amanda, a reference librarian married to an associate professor. She says they're soul mates on the subject of helping kids.

"We, you and I, should be on the lookout for recruits. We should compare notes often. Would you go see Amanda? She's in full recruiting mode this summer, since Ruth's away. 

"Remember, more than a quarter of the summer students will be here in the fall, a lot of them freshmen."

This conversation was turning me on, and my erections blossomed. "Later boy," Margery said, and patted my cock. 

"It's how the recruiting process works. Pete had you figured as a member from when you first met, he just had to wait for a mid-term opening. Your roommate — Gene, right? — you think of him the same way, that's why you brought him to the picnic, right?"  

"Don't forget Frank, George's friend."

"Oh yeah, he'll fit right in." She licked her lips in anticipation.

"But to get back to Carrie, I can only take her so far. She needs you to bring her across the finish line."

"She's not like Julia was, is she?"

"No. Julia recognized carnality a couple of years ago, when she took the peer counseling class. But she put a total lid on her own, she was that fixated on getting away from the farm. My experience reinforced her determination. 

"You provided the occasion, 'way earlier that she expected. She had the self-confidence to accept the opportunity. You're a great seducer."

"I was an accidental seducer. I had no idea I was doing that."

"Like Carrie said, 'secrets of mixology.' You've got the touch."

"Is she ready?"

"Oh yeah. But she's a romantic, wants to fall for her first guy, have the ground shake when she does it, glow afterward. Intellectually, she knows that now is not the time to be planning the wedding, but she wants to find the right guy for her first time."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"How do you know?"

"Women's intuition. I saw how she soaked up your interest in SOL, how you took her seriously."

"That's all it takes? Talking to her, listening to what she says, engaging in her life?"

"Pretty much. Oh, and being clean, and polite, and also a romantic. You've got those down pretty good."

Okay, I'll do it."

"He said, trying unsuccessfully to cover the lust he clearly felt," she leered. 

"Seriously, now, you know that you are obligated to take on all comers once school starts?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, if we need a virgin taken care of, you're it."

I gulped. 

"And every week, you are obligated to cover any tokens not covered when everybody's gone."

"Even if I don't like one of them?"

"If you really can't stand someone, okay, that's why we have a small stable of guys. But yeah, that's your role."

She watched me as I let it all sink in. When I didn't protest, she switched back to Carrie.

"So let's think about how we deal with Carrie." 

"The three of us could have lunch in a couple of days, maybe. I know she works a lot of time at SOL, but whether it's days or evenings, I don't know. It'll be part of the chase."

Virgin slayer? All I'd ever wanted to do was get laid. Now I'm the fuck of last resort? Wow.

"Now," she said, wrapping her hand around my diminishment, "we can play," and she hunkered down, stroking and sucking me to flagpole hardness. 

I humped into her face. "Oh god Margery, you're getting me, I'm close, I'm going to cum, here it issssss" and she had three intense spurts down her throat.

*

After a morning blowjob, Margery and I went for breakfast, at the same place Lisa had taken me. She was intent on getting an early start on the reading for the two classes she was taking, and I had an appointment with Tom at the pysch lab. As we parted she said, "again, soon."

*

Anna strolled in as Tom and I were unpacking the camera.

"This place is so drab, but it's by design. In Law and Order they lay it out for the TV angles, but we're gonna treat the mirror as just another wall. 

"Since we want the camera to capture the facial expression and body language, let's put the camera there —" she gestured to the wall at the end of the room, "and arrange the table and chairs here —" and she slid the furniture into position.

"The subject will sit on the short end of the table and I'll be pretty much in the middle of the long side, to keep them looking toward the camera. I'll read the questions and the subject will respond." 

"Didn't Don say something about bolting the chair to the floor?"

"Yeah. The buildings guys will take care of that on Monday. I'm gonna mark it with this tape," and she pulled a small roll of masking tape out of her backpack and marked exactly where the four legs should be attached to the floor.

We realized that we needed an extension cord for the camera to reach the power outlet, but Tom was nothing if not prepared and he produced one from his backpack. He screwed the bracket to the wall and attached the camera to it.

Popping open the laptop, Tom went through the boot-up sequence and the chair came into focus. 

"Loaded the software last night. Okay, Carl, sit down and we'll get your pretty face on the screen and check sound levels."

He and Anna watched the screen intently as I riffed on the rain in Spain. Within minutes they were happy with the image and the sound.

"Okay, good. Now let's see how it works from behind the glass."

Tom showed us how to maneuver the camera, adjust the focus, and manipulate the sound. It was simple.

"Okay, sound check," and he sent me back to the room. 

"The pain of Spain is that there is very little rain," I intoned. He'd been pretty close from the start, so he and Anna set the default sound.

"That's it, we're done. You guys should play with this and confirm with your boss, but I think you're good to go." It wasn't even eleven as I locked up the lab. Anna took off and Tom and I headed to Lit for lunch.

Things were a little busier than the last time. "We are in business!" I crowed to Lisa when she came by the table. "Tom here is The Man." He beamed

"You're in luck. We've got wraps today, and we have a new tap system we're trying out." We each ordered a wrap and Tom ordered a draft Coors. I thought about it and ordered one too.

Tom turned out to be twenty-two, an electrical engineering graduate student with a minor in computer science, working as much as he could in the AV department to pay for his degree. 

"Used to wait tables, but AV pays a lot better. I met Karen when I was working in one of the union's restaurants. We dated for almost a semester, at the start of her freshman year, but we never could get our schedules to mesh."

"Watch the student paper on Friday," I said. "We'll have an ad for our interviews. We'll be paying a hundred-and-fifty bucks for an hour of your time."

I paid the bill and left a good-sized tip.

*

If Wendy was right, my sex life was going to be different in the summer. While Lisa and Margery were in town, and they seemed to like sleeping with me, I wanted more. Margery's suggestion of seducing Carrie appealed to my vanity, but in my heart I doubted it would happen. On the other hand, it never hurts to be prepared.

Get some condoms, it's a summertime fling for the girls. They'll go home after nine weeks, so you can fuck anybody who wants to, no strings.

You sleazy, immoral bastard! You trying to become a "champion cocksman" like Linda said? 

What, Margery and Lisa don't satisfy you? 

No club rules for the summer, you can fuck anyone you want. For your own protection, though, must use condoms.

Pete was right, the easy availability of club girls takes the fun out of it. 

That doesn't make sense. 

The idea of fucking Carrie really turns you on, doesn't it? 

You've only fucked seven of the 28 girls in the club. You are so greedy. 

Crap.

*

The forecast was for a heat wave, early for this part of the state. The landlord had offered to rent me two air conditioners, so I called and decided on just one. He installed it in my bedroom. 

I did a major supplies haul. In addition to food, I bought baby oil, a pack of forty-eight condoms, barber scissors, a visiting team bathrobe and flipflops, female deodorant, and a package of liners for my wastebasket. I tucked the box of condoms at the back of my nightstand drawer and scattered a few loose ones at the front. It was past dinnertime and I was hungry.

*

"Hi Carl. The usual?"

"Yes, please, one Lolita on the rocks, shaken not stirred." Carrie snickered.

I was surprised that SOL was busy. "Last minute booking, local band," she said. "Show's at eight, admission's half price till seven-thirty if you buy a five-dollar card for the carts in the back. Wraps and bottle of water or can of soda. Even with exams coming up, the high schoolers look like they're gonna come to flirt and 'drink.' "

She noticed movement at the waiters' end of the bar. "Oops, gotta go," and she hopped to fill a drinks order.

Eating at the bar was discouraged when things were busy. The waiter suggested I share a table, apparently a normal thing when they wanted to fill every seat before a show.

The three girls looked up as I sat down. "Hi, I'm Carl."

"Hi. I'm Kim. This is Marsha" — she smiled — "and Kitty" — who looked annoyed. 

Kim was a little bit shorter than me, her plumpish body topped by an oval face with a long nose framed by straight black hair. She exuded this "Howdy stranger" attitude and I was immediately attracted.

"What's the band tonight?"

" 'Egret Eggs.' They play their own stuff. Kitty and I have never heard them play, but we thought we'd take a chance since the drummer is Marsha's cousin. Nothing else to do in this burg."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 08



My wrap arrived, to join the Lolita I was carrying. Kim described several of the better bands SOL had booked in the spring, and she and Kitty teased Marsha about her cousin's being a "chick magnet." They speculated about the rumor that the band was being scouted by a record company.

Last year at this time, if you'd been anywhere near this sort of a place, you'd've been making mental notes of how lame their conversation is, the shallowness of their interests, their crude, bourgeoisie musical tastes, even their slovenly clothes.

Now you're trying to figure out how to get Kim into bed.

I caught the waiter's eye and ordered a round of whatever they were drinking. When the drinks arrived, they tried to send them back, but the waiter gestured to me. 

"You?" said Kim.

"Yeah, yours were getting a little low. I'm here for the summer and don't know anything about the local groups."

Kim shifted her chair closer to mine. "Marsha asked us to come, they want to build up the crowd. We've never heard them play."

"Hey guys, c'mon, we need to get good seats," said Marsha.

"You wanna join us, Carl?" asked Kim.

Marsha led Kitty and me through the door. Kim brought up the rear. Marsha spotted four seats about a quarter of the way back. I stepped aside to let Kim follow Kitty and Marsha. 

After twenty minutes, it was apparent that neither Kim nor Kitty had any interest in the music, which was nowhere near my taste either. The band was enthusiastic, though, and the girl singer was a real shouter.

"Hey," I asked the girls after one riotous song ended. "You wanta go somewhere?"

"Sure. Where?"

"I've got my friend's apartment for the summer. He's got a TV and a sound system."

"I've gotta stay for Frankie," apparently the name of her cousin, said Marsha. "You guys go ahead, he'll take me home."

:Any beer?" asked Kitty.

"No, but I'll buy some if you want."

It was steamy outside. I bought two cold six-packs to go with the chips and dip I'd stocked in the afternoon. As we neared the apartment, Kitty pointed out a church she recognized and the girls seemed to relax.

It was nine-thirty when we kicked off our shoes on the newspaper inside the apartment door. I cranked the AC as high as it would go and left the bedroom door open.

Neither Pete's nor my musical selections were deemed worthy, so Kim took the remote and surfed around until she found a nature movie she liked. We had finished the first beer and were just starting the second when Kitty jumped. 

"Cell. Sorry.

"Okay, yeah, sure." Pause. "YES mother. I'll BE there." She slammed the phone shut.

"Damn! Sorry, it'll be eleven by the time I get home. Gotta go. Curfew." And they stood. 

"Can you stay?" I looked straight at Kim. "I'll drive you home."

The girls exchanged a quick look.

"Remember where the car is?"

"Yeah, behind SOL." 

"Okay, leave 'em under the floor mat," and Kim tossed the keys. 

"Bye," said Kitty, and she was out the door.

We stuck with the movie for maybe ten minutes, mostly wisecracking about it. I tentatively combed my fingers through that straight hair to her chin, meeting no resistance. After the third pass she snuggled against me, her head pillowed on my shoulder. 

I worked up the nerve to run a finger down the length of her nose. Then I kissed her and she kissed me back, hesitantly at first, then with enthusiasm.

We adjusted and kissed more forcefully, then tongue-wrestled. I spread myself along the length of the couch and pulled her onto me. She landed on my erection and I felt her hesitate, but she wiggled her hips and settled in.

"Can I kiss you some more, Kim?"

"I like it when you do," she puffed. I took her head in my hands and kissed her hard, stroking her neck and ear lobes. She moaned and wiggled. I slid my hands inside the back of her pants and began kneading the cheeks through her panties. She wiggled again, ground into me, and kept our lips locked.

As we ramped up the passion of our kissing, she shoved her chest against mine and started to hump me. Eventually we broke for air.

"Kim," I said, looking directly into her eyes, "would you like to make love?"

She rolled off me and used her hips to push my legs aside, then perched herself on the edge of the couch. She looked straight at me. "Maybe."

"Talk to me," I said. "I won't make you to do anything you don't want to do."

"Well," she mused, "let's see. We've known each other for about two-and-a-half hours. We might have exchanged two hundred words, including 'and' and 'the.' I don't know anything about you except your name and the fact that you kiss pretty well. I couldn't find this place again if I tried. And for all I know, you're a serial killer."

"I can't compete with that logic. Shall I take you home now?"

"I should probably say yes, but first I want some more of this," and she jumped me. We stretched out beside each other and I moved my mouth to an ear lobe and sucked, then stuck my tongue in her ear. "Yikes!" she squealed.

I lifted her t-shirt, revealing a small navel in a round belly, and tongued it. "Yikes!" I did a foghorn blast into it, "BLAAAT!," and she humped up at me.

"I love this tummy. Can I play with on it?"

"Anything you want," she said, breathily.

"Okay," and I trickled my tongue from the navel across that pliant skin to the top of her pants. When I started to pop the button, she laid her hand on mine. 

"Kiss me some more."

We went back at it, this time with me leaning over her as she spread herself on the couch. She didn't resist when I began to gently rub her crotch. "Ummmm."

I tongued her navel again and followed up by inhaling it. "YIKES!" she yelled, and pulled my face down. By the time she released me I had popped the jeans button and was sliding my hand inside.

She pulled my hand out and placed it back on her crotch. "Again," she whispered. This time I felt dampness and I probed as much as I could against the material.

"Let's make love," I puffed.

She caught her breath, then locked her eyes on mine. 

"You're no serial killer unless it's with that tongue. Check. And that tongue does all the talking I could ask for. Check. And I bet you'll give me the address. Check.

"So I'm gonna blow you.

"It's almost eleven and I've got to be home by midnight. This'll give me something to think about."

She hopped off the couch, pulled me upright and unzipped my pants. When she couldn't get my cock out of my jockeys, she stopped, frustrated. I fished out my now-stiff member. 

"Oh boy," she croaked, and licked her lips.

"Sit," she said, and as I did she yanked a cushion off the couch and plopped it on the floor between my legs. Kneeling, she took my cock about half-way into her mouth, sucked on the head, and began bobbing.

She was enthusiastic, sucking when she was at the top, then dropping down. Eventually she got the whole thing into her mouth. Then she slowly pulled off and stroked up and over the top, then all the way down.

She knew she had me close to the edge as she began seriously bobbing and jacking me. 

I plunged into the abyss. 

"Kim! I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna — I'm cumming! I'm CUUUUUMING!" and I blasted. After the third one she lost the seal, so the fourth one oozed out, but she caught it with her finger and sucked it all down.

I sagged back onto the couch and she put the cushion back, hopped up on it, and frenched me. I took her mouth eagerly and we swapped everything she had.

"That was amazing," I finally gasped. "You are amazing! You free in five minutes for a re-do?" She looked panicked.

"Well, maybe ten." She caught the wisecrack and grinned. I gradually caught my breath.

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Honestly. I have to think about it. Look, gimme your cell. I'll call myself and we'll have each other's numbers. I'll text you or something."

We walked through the steambath to Ruth's house. I started the Honda and turned on its AC and GPS. "What's your address?"

"We're not going there. I have to pick up my car at Kitty's. Just drive, I'll give you directions." She called Kitty to say she was on her way.

After about twenty minutes, we pulled to a stop on a darkened suburban street, behind a light-colored Toyota. 

"That's me. Hope she remembered to leave the keys." 

"Yup, got 'em," she chirped, flourishing the keys as she sauntered to my window.

Sticking her head inside, she grabbed my face and jammed her tongue into my mouth. Happy, she pulled off, giggled, and waved as she headed back to her car. I resisted the urge to trail her, not even starting the Honda until her taillights were gone. I hit "Home" on the GPS.

Laying on the bed, with the air conditioner on a lower setting, I reviewed.

Buy condoms around four o'clock. 

Three hours later, go to what you think will be an empty SOL, to start your first attempt at seducing a girl. 

Three hours after that, you're being blown by another girl, who you've just met. Drive her home. She'll think about coming back.

Either you can't execute a simple first step with a girl you're told will be responsive or you're a chick magnet. 

Carrie was busy and Kim's a tease and a slut. No. Well, maybe, Carrie WAS busy. And you'll know about Kim if she ever calls. If. Crap.

I masturbate to Kim's face.

*

The sun was just rising when my cell rattled. Since no one ever called this early, I scrambled to answer, afraid that something had happened at home. I didn't recognize the number.

"Carl?"

"Yes?"

"It's me, Kim." I snapped to alert.

"Oh. Hi. Good. Great. Kim. How are you?"

"I'm fantastic! Thank you for the great time last night. I have to do some research at the library, for a paper. I'll call you when I'm done, around ten. Okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. Great. See you then."

She called on the dot of ten. 

"I'm done, and I'm famished," she said. "You know Aronowitz's?" It was a breakfast and lunch shop down the block from the rear entrance to the library.

"Yes, but —"

"They serve great omelets. Fifteen minutes?"

"More like twenty, okay?"

She was in a small booth, wearing a Megadeth t-shirt, and seemed glad to see me. 

"I'm having a mush o. What would you like?"

"What's a mush o?"

"Oh, sorry, mushroom omelet. Diner shorthand." Pete did cheese, so I ordered one of those, and she got me to order a can of Dr. Brown's.

I took more than three dozen shots around the inside of the place. Customers on stools, the waitress, the counter guy, the cook, and of course Kim. She posed with several of them and I got her a couple of times while we were eating and as we chatted our way out. I wanted a Julia-grade shot.

It had been really warm when I walked over, but we emerged into a brutally hot and humid day. We were soaked with sweat by the time we got to the apartment and once inside, the cool air made us shiver. 

I tossed her a bath towel. "You take the first shower." She looked dubious. 

"Wait, I'll get you something to wear," and I darted back to my room, returning with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

While she showered, I stretched a string from my dresser to my desk and hung her wet clothes directly in front of the air conditioner. She had butterflies on her panties.

"Oh that's better," she said, and flopped down on my bed. The t-shirt was tight around her chest and she had to hold the shorts up with one hand. Her hair was secured by the bath towel. 

I took clean clothes into the bathroom, showered, and emerged presentable. Kim was sitting on the edge of the bed now, flipping through the images in my camera, looking at them in the tiny window.

"They're good," she said. "How do you see things this way?" She showed me some shots she liked.

"I'll upload them, you can see more detail that way." As we flipped through them, she pointed out interesting details in several of the photos. 

It wasn't absolutely Julia-grade, but the image of her I liked most was in soft light, pretty much full face, with an expression somewhere between contemplation and concentration. 

"This is you," I said, zooming into her face.

"You like my schnoz?" she cracked. It was true, her face was dominated by her nose.

"Yes, I do. I'm a nose guy," and we laughed. I hit "print."

"It's beautiful," she sighed, holding the photo warm from the printer. 

"So are you," I said, and kissed her, softly on the neck.

I hadn't counted on her letting go of the shorts, but they dropped to the floor as she wrapped her arms around my neck. She didn't seem to care. 

She pressed herself into me. I cupped her soft ass and piloted us onto the bed.

Still lip-locked, she shoved her hand into my shorts and grabbed my cock. I moaned and started to unzip when she broke the kiss.

"You're hard, you're really hard. Let me blow you."

It was not exactly what I had in mind, but then we'd only met sixteen hours ago.

"Sure, that would be great."

She popped the button, unzipped, commanded "Lift your ass," and pulled the shorts and jockeys off. She moved her mouth languidly onto my cock. 

"No rush now, we've got all day, right?"

"Can't think of a thing I'd rather do than spend it naked with you," I said, meaning it even if it sounded canned.

"Well, I have to be home by five, so we've got till four." And, for the next ten minutes, those were her last words.

I'd been blown enough to know that Kim's sucking style was, while enthusiastic, amateurish. She bobbed for a while, then attacked the head, popped off and fisted me. I asked her to go slow, work up the shaft, play with my balls. 

It was a slow-motion blow job, very nice, and eventually I decided I wanted to cum.

"Now, Kim, make me cum. Work on the head, use your tongue, wet, oh god that's sooo gooood, make me cuuuuum."

This time she kept the seal and gulped everything down. When she finished she lay down beside me. "Good for you?"

"Great for me. Kiss me," I commanded, and she mashed her face to mine. She sucked my tongue into her mouth and I probed everywhere. My heart was returning to normal as we slowly parted.

"Can I take your shirt off? I want to see all of you."

In one motion Kim was up on her knees, facing me and rolling the shirt off. Then she was on mine, tossing it wherever she'd thrown hers.

We scanned each other. She'd blown me twice, so she was familiar with my equipment. I, on the other hand, had had only a fleeting glimpse of her pussy, and never her breasts.

They were larger than I'd expected, not massive but big. Her nipples were aroused, large and deep pink. As she sat back on her heels, her belly slightly overshadowed the top of her pussy. 

Her untrimmed bush was, like her hair, black. Unlike her hair, it was unkempt and was, like ivy on a wall, wild and growing. The puffy lips peeked out invitingly. Her shoulders were strong and big and she had a wary expression. 

"This doesn't seem right, Kim. You're beautiful, we're naked, you've just given me the most fantastic blowjob, and you're afraid of me." 

"I, I'm just not sure. I mean I like you, but we still don't know much more about each other than we did last night. Other than the fact that we both like me blowing you. 

"So can we just talk? I know it's stupid to do this when we're naked, but I want to."

"Bundling board."

"You've got one?"

"No, but a concept's a concept. What'll we use?" I knew I didn't have anything suitable, but maybe there was something in Pete's or Gene's stuff, stashed in the second bedroom. "Let's look around."

For some reason I wasn't sporting an erection as we padded naked around the apartment. 

"No ironing board, no surf board, no room 'n' board," she cracked.

As we returned to my room, Kim was thinking. "Okay, since the idea is to lay close but obstruct touch, we'll wrap you in a sheet."

I was dubious but saw no alternative. "Okay, sheets in here," and I pulled out a top sheet from my dresser. She unfolded it and I raised my arms. 

"Nope, we're wrapping everything. Hold this, good, now twirl," and I was encased. She tucked the end of the sheet into the wrapping and laid me down on the bed, rolled me to face her, and plopped down beside me.

And the interrogation began.

Full name. Family. Siblings. Parents. Parents' jobs. Cousins. Aunts and uncles. High school interests. Religion. Ethnic background. Musical tastes. She cross-referenced details, picked up threads.

"What's with the photography? It's kinda nerdy, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, that's sorta what I am."

"You're not."

"Am too."

"Are not. Nerds don't like girls."

"No, nerds are as desperate as anybody else to get laid, maybe more. Nerds just don't know how to get there, or aren't willing to make the effort."

"So like I said, you're not a nerd. Now about the photography," and she pressed on. She segued into religion, wanting to know the difference between my family's Episcopalianism and Roman Catholicism.

She wasn't rude, she was genuinely interested, and she was very socially aware. It was speed dating with no clothes on.

After about twenty minutes, she seemed satisfied. She pulled herself tight against me, took my head in her hands, and jammed her face right up against mine. "Why did you lie to us last night?"

"I, I didn't."

"You said you were just taking summer courses and that this was a friend's place. Kitty and I spent two hours scouring all the social networks. I know you're a sophomore, I know you've got a summer job doing some sort of psychological research. Kitty got into the student listings and found your address. I've read everything you've posted on Facebook."

"Oh that lie," I tried to recover.

"Yes, that lie."

My erection was bent inside the mummy wrap.

"Uh, I was attracted to you from the start and didn't want to scare you off. I thought you guys were too young to be interested in a sophomore. I figured you wouldn't find out, I guess."

"Honest man." She pulled the sheet flap out. 

"Lift your ass." She unwrapped me and tossed it on the floor.

"Okay, now we can fuck."

"Wait! Not yet, I want to talk." Liberated, my cock was very stiff.

"Fuck now, talk later. Where're your condoms?"

I scrambled for the drawer, pulled one out, tore it open, shoved it on, and was on top of her.

"Let's fuck!" and I pushed between her legs.

"Nope, I'm gonna ride you," and she executed a swift move that knocked me onto my back. She hopped onto my cock in one motion and ground into me while extending her arms like she was flying. As she rose and fell, I pounded her for all I was worth. I couldn't get at her clit because she was in constant motion. 

"Fucka Fucka Fucka oh so good, Fucka Fucka Fucka," she grunted as she swung her hips and bent my cock. Her hair was flying all over the place.

I grabbed her soft hips as she was at the top of her bouncing and held her.

"Wait! NO! Let me go, this is —" and I let her fall. 

I went "ooompf!" as she landed on me. 

"Good! Serves you right! Don't mess with a girl when she's on a ride!" She resumed fucking me, swinging her hips wildly as she rode up and down.

"I'm gonna cum! Kim I'm gonna —" and I started.

"Me too! God it's so good, I'm — FUUUUUCK I'm cummmming!" I pounded into her more eagerly than I already had, and she pounded back. When she finished, she collapsed on my chest, heaving, eyes closed, heart pounding.

We held each other as our orgasms faded. Slowly I rolled her to the side and began to stroke her wet chest and matted hair, sucked on the tip of her nose and kissed her all over. The towel around her hair had gotten lost somewhere.

As I felt my cock softening, I reached between us, found the ring, and held on as I slid out of her. I dropped the condom into the wastebasket.

We lay beside each other, holding hands. When I elevated myself on one elbow, she smiled tentatively and averted her eyes.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 09



"You a juice-aholic or something?" Carrie teased as I slid onto the stool.

"Nope, barfly," I grinned winningly.

"Lolita?"

"No, something more exotic."

"Shirley Temple then."

"Great." 

"Two bucks off when I punch your membership card, first one's virtually free." 

It was nearly closing time and SOL was dead. The orange juice in the tall glass was tangy and the cold was a relief from the brutal heat outside. There was supposed to be a break overnight and the prediction was for a beautiful week.

"Do you work here every night?" I asked.

"Thursday through Sunday, always nights, plus anything more that I can get. That way I can play ball during the day."

"What?"

"Softball. There's an organized game on Saturday and Sunday mornings, with some really good players. There're pickup games during the week, early, before it gets too hot. This place hasn't gotten the full memo on Title XX, so women's fields are tough to get scheduled on, but they manage."

"The heatwave's supposed to break tonight," I said, changing the subject, "or so they say. Could you make time for a picnic on Tuesday, for lunch?"

"Thought you had a steady job," she parried.

"The ad for the interviews will run in the paper on Friday. Classes start Monday and we want to be interviewing by the end of the week, so that's when I become a nine-to-fiver."

"Okay, sure. Where can we go?"

"I've got a car. There's a beautiful little park on the road out toward the ag school. I'll pack a basket."

"Okay, I'll bring drinks and hors d'oeuvres."

All they had left was a solitary chicken wrap and the waiters looked like they wanted to go home. I downed my drink and took the wrap with me. 

*

The buildings guys had bolted the chair to the floor by the time I got to the lab. Anna and I were really in business.

"Let's do a trial run. I'll start recording," I said. We took our seats. She read a short explanation of the study, and we began.

Her tone was pleasant but neutral. After asking my name and address, she asked questions that required yes-or-no answers. She asked if my date of birth was January thirtieth.

"No, it's July 14."

"Please just answer yes or no."

"Oh, sorry. Uh, no."

Had I ever visited Cleveland, Ohio? Winnipeg, Manitoba? Did I know how to fish? Was the moon made of green cheese? On and on, yes mixed with no.

"Have you ever stolen money from your mother's purse?"

I was startled. "No!" A lie, I'd done it twice and always felt guilty when I thought about it.

After another twenty questions, she asked "Have you ever killed a kitten?"

"No!" I started to sweat.

Twenty questions or so later it was "Are you a virgin?"

"No."

"Is Cleveland in Ohio?"

When I said yes, she smiled. "Okay, you're pretty normal. The typical response to the date-of-birth question is to provide the right date, which we don't care about. We're looking to establish a baseline for a mild negative response and we want to reinforce the yes-or-no type answer.

"The more outrageous or personal questions test other traits. We mix in the innocuous, ever-been-to-Cleveland stuff to test the baseline. It's actually pretty clever."

"Let's check the file, see how it came out."

We ran it from the top. The audio was ever so slightly fuzzy, but the video was exactly as the technical specs required, as far as I could tell. We were both satisfied.

"Okay, I'm going to send this to Margolin," said Anna. "I'll call you if he wants anything changed."

"Marilyn says the ad is on schedule for Friday," I reported. "I'll be able to download the online responses and run the selection algorithm Sunday afternoon for whatever've come in by then. If enough of them pick Wednesday, we can start then, Thursday at worst."

"Good. It's always better to get off to a fast start. That way, if anything goes wrong, we have breathing room."

"Does anybody ever get angry at these questions?"

"This is the third study I've worked on with Don, he likes this approach. There were a couple of questions in one study that were actually designed to elicit anger, not at me but at a scripted external situation, where I was an unsympathetic commenter. I'd have liked to have the build of a linebacker for the Packers right then." Which would have been difficult, since she couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds.

We went to lunch at Literratica. Anna seemed to know most of what was interesting about me, I guess from my resume and talking with Don.

"I've put in to be a pysch major, but I don't really know what I'm getting in to. When did you know this is what you wanted to do?"

"Four years ago I didn't know the difference between psychology and particle physics," she smiled. "I was an English major, wanted to teach high-school literature. I was doing practice teaching when they asked me to fill in for the guidance counselor, who was suddenly hospitalized.

"I think I was picked because I have a empathetic ear for adolescent troubles. I loved it, the experience changed my life. 

"But I wanted to know more than just helping kids. Eventually I found that pushing the boundaries of how people tick was even more interesting, but I still care about adolescent neuroses.

"Research is what suits me. I had to take an extra year of classes to get my degree in psychology. Don asked me to be a teaching assistant, then recommended me for a graduate fellowship. I'm a year away from getting my Ph.D."

"What's the practical value of a Ph.D.?"

"You can't teach without it. And if, like me, you want to continue to do research, they won't even look at your resume without one. I was lucky to have met Don, he's very active in the field.

"We've got two different research projects going and I've already been listed as an associate on an article with him. It was published in the British Journal of Social Psychology, one of the biggies."

"Gee, I'm a real rookie," I said, feeling small.

"Everybody's gotta start somewhere. I was into Emily Dickenson and Edith Wharton as feminist writers. Now I'm re-reading them for the insights they had, way ahead of their time, on women's attempts to self-liberate in marriage.

"Keep your eyes and ears open around here. It may turn out that psych's not for you. Or you may find a branch that suits you. Or you could wind up in particle physics. Whatever, doesn't matter. But when you find your muse, god, the only thing that beats it is a good cum."

I blushed.

"Oops, sorry, didn't mean to cross the line, Carl."

"No, it's okay. I'm just, I suppose, I just don't associate getting satisfaction from work with, you know, satisfaction. In sex, I mean," I said, averting my eyes.

"Have you ever had that feeling when you were taking pictures?"

"I don't remember, no. I've felt anger, pity, annoyance, superiority, there were even beautiful moments. But no high, like, uh —"

"Like a good orgasm?"

"You're teasing me," I said, blushing again.

"Not entirely, but yes, I am. You're fun to talk with. Look," she said, leaning across her salad, "this university is vast. There is something for you here, somewhere, you've got to have the courage to go out and find it. What you don't want to do is drift into something that's just okay and spend the rest of your life wondering whether you could have done something better.

"Not that there's anything wrong with serendipity. That's how my life changed, and a lot of people, looking back, say that's how they found their muse.

"But you've got to put yourself in the way of the experience. Take chances. Not that I mean skydiving, unless that's your thing. But do new things, go to new places, meet people you would have skipped before.

"Anyway, it's going to be interesting." She stood. "I'll call you if anything comes up. Give me a shout over the weekend and let me know how the responses are coming. Here's my cell," and she gave me a business card.

Anna texted me on Tuesday morning, that Margolin had approved the videos. We really were in business.

*

I called Margery, just to check in.

"No grass grows under your feet."

"Huh?"

"Picnic with Carrie, tomorrow? She's excited. You know anything about softball?"

"Person throws rock at another person, who defends self with tree limb. If successfully deflects rock, runs in counter-clockwise circle. Team with the most completed circles wins."

"Smartass! Really."

"I played little league for five years. Probably couldn't tell you the name of a single player on a major league roster now, but at the time I really loved it.

"Anyway, while I love this conversation, I was really calling to see if you wanted to do dinner."

"Thanks, that's sweet of you, but Carlucci has finally gotten it together and she dumped it all on me this morning. And I'm working on the reading for the two courses I'm taking. AND I signed up as an RA, which may not be the brightest thing I've ever done.

"So I've got to plow through all of it, by Wednesday night, so I'm bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Carlucci's planning meeting on Thursday morning and the university-wide RA meeting that night."

Lisa wasn't working. "Monday's her day off, slowest day of the week," said the bartender. 

The union wouldn't be open till Thursday. I ordered pizza. When I went to bed I masturbated to Carrie's face. I'd tried for Kim, but it didn't happen.

*

By ten I'd finished the shopping. In addition to the chicken salad, lettuce, tomato, and fresh bread, I got sunscreen, a couple of pairs of throw-away sun glasses, and a stem of grapes, which I washed and put in the cooler. After some debate I decided to wear my jockeys. I tucked two condoms into the basket's side compartment.

I called the Honda dealership for the sixty-thousand mile servicing. The appointment was for early Friday morning, take about an hour. They had Ruth's records.

I checked Facebook. Carol had posted about her summer camp job and showed a couple of photos of herself with kids as well as a posed shot of her and a couple of other girls in full lacrosse regalia.

Pete was happier. Suzi had flown in and he'd introduced her to his uncle, who approved of her. They spent the weekend in bed (well, he wasn't that explicit, but I could read between the lines).

Cindy was on a serious project at the company where her sister works. Things had gotten better for Linda, she'd moved and liked her new apartment better. Karen was almost done with prepping the first show, The Wiz, and was working on the technicalities of the second show.

Kenny was worried about the overly-aggressive behavior of certain 14-year-old girl scouts and was feeling old. Helen liked her job. Wendy was bummed that Law and Order was no longer going to be producing in New York: "Bastards cost us 400 jobs!"

Margery had posted a quickie. "Overworked, and loving it!"

I cleaned the bathroom. 

It was eleven-fifteen. 

Okay, pick up the car, drive back, kill time that way. So you're early, girls seem to like that, unless they're not ready. Crap.

It was about ten minutes before noon when I arrived in the lounge at Carrie's dorm. She was there, reading the newspaper.

"Fancy meeting you here," I perked. She grinned.

The sign was bigger and more prominent this time. "Closed Until Further Notice. Due to budget cuts, this park will be closed until further notice. We regret any inconvenience." I parked on the shoulder. 

We spread the blanket in the shade, distributed everything, opened two of the bottles of sparkling water and toasted the day.

"It's a beautiful day. Let's play two!"

"Ernie Banks, shortstop, Chicago Cubs."

"You play?"

"Played. Little League, shortstop, catcher, outfield. Couldn't hit the ball, though. You?"

"Walk-on varsity, ride the bench. This time last year I was all-county, second team regional, honorable mention all-state. Great field, adequate hit, not a great gun. But I'm fast, they use me as a pinch runner, play when the score's outa hand. Coach says I should get more playing time next year."

I pulled the camera out and took some shots of the food, the places where the shadows met the light, stood up and shot backwards toward the car.

"Smile." She did and I took half-a-dozen shots.

"That's great. Here," I said, showing her the back of the camera. "I like looking at how the light filters through the trees and lands on the glasses and food. I like to do photo essays. I did one in front of Literratica just before Christmas, on guys staggering out the front door, wrecked."

"Sounds like fun," she said, almost sarcastically. 

"Not fun so much as I wanted to capture expressions, body language. I stood in one place on a freezing cold night for an hour, trying to catch the perfect smashed look or the telling stagger. The camera I use for that stuff has a rapid-fire shutter than can handle twenty shots in twenty seconds without killing the battery."

There have to be two Carrie's. At Ruth's, and here, there's this sun-bleached ponytail-ed girl, shorts and a t-shirt, expressive shoulders, an athletic build, narrow waist and chest, who seems only comfortable talking about softball. At SOL, the same package is all business, handles any sort of barroom banter, is completely in charge, dresses in bartender white with a black vest, hair in a bun.

Her cheese was a big wedge of brie and some lovely bleu cheese, with stone crackers. Both were soft from the sun and spread easily on the crackers. We sliced up the bread for sandwiches and afterward lay back and watched the clouds.

ROWRRRRrrrrr.

The cruiser was behind Ruth's car and the cop was leaning out its window as I stood up. 

"Your car?" he shouted.

"Friend's," I shouted back. He got out and sauntered in our direction.

"The park is closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

He was in conversation range by the time Carrie stood. He smiled.

"Yes I did, officer. But it's such a nice place for a picnic, I didn't see the harm."

He walked into the grove and looked around. "It's a great place for a picnic, it's just that there's been some vandalism at other parks and we're checking things out.

"Look, I gotta chase you guys outta here, all the parks are closed. But," he said, surveying the picnic, "you don't look like you're doin' any harm.

"Can I see your license and registration?"

"Sure," and I pulled out my wallet. "Registration's in the glove compartment." He checked the license and handed it back.

The three of us walked to the car and I pulled out the registration scan and Ruth's letter. He checked them carefully.

"Okay, I'll be back this way in an hour or so. Try to be gone by then." He touched the brim of his trooper hat, "M'am," and headed toward his cruiser.

Mood killer if ever there was one.

" 'M'am?' He's got to be twice my age," Carrie giggled.

"Yeah, and not in as good shape, either." We settled back onto the blanket. 

"I'm working on upper body strength. If I can gain enough arm strength I could clip a half-second off my release."

"Well, you sling the drinks around the bar fast enough."

"I've been doing that since I was 16. SOL's a real bar, just no liquor. The head bartender is a partner in the place, he likes to concoct these tangy drinks with the cutesy names. I'm amazed at how much people will pay for juice compared to liquor. It's all marketing.

"But the hours are tough. Usually it's six hours, always on my feet. Still, even with books and all, I'm putting money away."

"C'mon, let's take a walk," I said. There was a dirt path that led to another stand of trees where there was a picnic bench with a grill. The path looped out and came back to the parking spaces.

We circled the park and settled onto the blanket. Suddenly she shot her leg straight out. "Cramp," she grimaced. I helped her stand and she hopped around on it, gradually recovering.

"Can I help, do something?" I asked.

"Occupational hazard, too long on my feet," she said. "But yeah, could you knead the calf muscle?" I knelt and worked the calf, not having a clue what I was doing.

"Oh yeah, further down, a little, yeah, that's exactly right, a little harder." Gradually she relaxed and we settled back onto the blanket. She stretched her leg across my lap and I kneaded it and saw the tension ease from face. 

She started to pull her leg away. "Please, leave it, I like doing this," I said, as I ran my fingers up and over her knee, then down to her ankle, feeling the soft skin.

She slid her other leg onto my lap. They were lean, and strong, especially the calves. I ranged the muscles but settled just for slight squeezes and stroking behind the knee as she lay back on her elbows. After a few minutes she dropped entirely onto the blanket.

I remembered the grapes.

"Can you reach the cooler?"

"Sure." She handed it to me.

"Grapes?" I offered a short stem.

"Thanks," and she stripped each of the four grapes off with her teeth and, one by one, crunched them, swallowed, and smiled.

"Grape?" I held it with my thumb and forefinger. She took it with her lips, crunched it, and smiled.

"Grape?" She took it with her lips and into her mouth, then popped it out onto her lips. 

"Grape?" she offered. 

I sucked it into my mouth, crunched it, and sighed.

She pivoted and laid her head into my lap.

"Grape?" I held it just over her mouth.

"Ummm," and she lifted up, took it with her lips, and lay back to crunch it.

I ran the coldest one left behind her ear.

"Tickles," she said. I placed it on her lips. She crunched it.

I rolled the last grape up her throat and onto her lips.

"Grape?"

She took it, held it for a bit, then crunched it.

Out of grapes, I stroked her hair and cheeks with my cool fingers. She closed her eyes.

"You trying to seduce me?"

"How'm I d—"

ROWRRRRrrrrr.

Smokey was standing by his cruiser. 

"Sorry, kids," he smiled, "but you gotta go."

"You're right, it's just so nice here," I said. We packed the cooler and basket, folded the blanket, and walked to the car.

"Are there any places around for a picnic? I mean, places like this?" I asked.

"Not really," he said. "These county parks are all closed, and the state's parks will be after this weekend. We're patrolling pretty heavily, to get the word out that they're all shut.

"Maybe," he mused, "if you go out past the ag school, there are a couple of small groves of trees at the edge of the farm fields that you could use. Not a park, only a coupla trees. Sorry, it's rough out here." He stood by his cruiser and watched as we pulled away.

We rode silently until we slowed to a stop at the first traffic light in town.

"That was nice. Thank you for coming."

"I'm glad you thought of me. This summer's gonna be intense, what with taking two classes, playing ball, and working at SOL. Plus trying to fit in the gym for the workouts."

"You working tonight?"

"Yeah, six to eleven, tonight and tomorrow, the relief bartender hasn't started yet. The kiddies are starting to trickle into town. The boss says parents drop them off or the buses offload 45 at a time. They stow their stuff and go looking for a good time. 

"We should be mobbed through the weekend. We've got bands starting Friday night. I'll be doing six-to-midnight Thursday through Sunday."

"How about breakfast tomorrow?"

"I'll probably be dead to the world till at least 8:30."

"Fine. Mebbie's?" That was the name of the breakfast place that Lisa and Margery liked, about six blocks from my apartment.

"Sure. I've been there a couple of times with Margery. Nine?"

"Great."

*

Well, if you're a romantic, be romantic.

The manager at the candle store became very enthusiastic when I explained that I was trying to seduce a girl and needed just the right candles to accomplish the task. She spent a lot of time educating me about scents and the difference between synthetic fragrances and pure essential oils. Eventually I bought two jasmine candles.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 09



I also bought some more grapes, sparking water to supplement the Sprites, and washed all my sheets. I even had one set ironed. I put the grapes in a bowl with ice and stowed them in the refrigerator.

Carrie's Facebook page was replete with links to articles on her softball prowess, but otherwise it was mundane: National Honor Society and three high school sports, freshman at college, stuff like that. Her photo had to have been her yearbook portrait. She hadn't posted anything since May. 

My pictures were all so-so, nothing Julia-grade. There was one of her on the blanket, leaning forward, arms wrapped around her legs. She was looking at the camera but her expression was guarded. It was the best of the lot, so I cropped it and two artsy shots she had expressed interest in, and teed them up on the printer. 

There was one other photo that exposed a swell of breast under her bent arm. I masturbated to it and fell asleep.

*

Matches! Dumbass, you forgot to buy matches! How can you light a candle without matches?

I zipped to the store, bought a small box, and was back by 8:30. 

I made the bed with the ironed sheets, set one candle on my dresser and the second one on my desk. 

At precisely 8:59 I walked through the door at Mebbie's and took a booth in the back. Two minutes later I waved at Carrie as she came in.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said, smiling. We had eggs and bacon.

"We were semi-busy last night," she said, "grossed almost $650, which is pretty good, considering. Tips were lousy, though, since the kids don't know about this stuff. We're not so crass as to put out a tips jar, and the boss doesn't want to put a line on the bar bill, so it's hit or miss. They usually learn."

"I got a couple of good shots yesterday. Wanta see them?"

"Anything else in mind?"

"I got some more grapes."

"I love grapes."

I tried to pay but she insisted on splitting the tab.

We shucked our sandals on the paper by the front door. I pushed the candle on my desk aside and opened the laptop. She flipped through the photos and suggested one more for printing. Afterward, she squinted at her picture.

"I don't take a good picture, do I?"

"You mean like Angelina Jolie? Nope, she's one in a hundred million. You've got great eyes and if we work at it I'm sure we can get a good one. I think it's a matter of your getting comfortable with the camera, so I should try to catch you when you're doing something you're into."

"Yeah, it's probably true, but, I dunno, I always come across bland, drab."

"Never ever seen one you liked?" Dummy! Not the right way to put it.

"Well, yes, there is one," she brightened. "I have it on my Facebook page. Team photo," and she quickly pulled it up.

"See? Second row, I've got a great smile on."

She was right. It looked as though she was just finishing a laugh. But no one else was laughing. I grabbed the image but it wouldn't stand enlargement.

"Do you remember what was going on when they took that shot?"

"No. It's just a team photo, guy took two or three of 'em. I wish I did."

"Up for a short photo shoot?"

"Here?" We were, after all, in my bedroom.

"Here, living room, wherever. It's with your clothes on, we're working for an expression." It just popped into my head, I had no plan, just wanted to get her talking, even laughing.

I started with standard poses for porn models, so I had her kneel on the bed, lean back and put her hands into her hair, sit on the end of the bed, straddle my chair, all sorts of soft-core stuff. I kept up a patter and tried for humor. She laughed at a couple of my forced jokes.

I moved us into the living room and had her recline on the couch, rest her head on the end, the back, stare at me, take a batting position, bend over to field an imaginary ground ball, squat like a catcher, anything I could think of.

Finished, I uploaded the 82 images and stood behind her as she sat in my chair and flipped through them.

95 percent were useless, of course. Six, though, were pretty good, and two were very good. All six were from the last 20 images.

"I knew it! I knew we'd find you! God you're beautiful!" I laid my hand on her shoulder.

"Which one for Facebook?" 

Her cheek accidentally touched the back of my hand.

"Uhm, that one," and she pointed to a full frontal, mouth slightly open, tongue touching teeth, eyes mostly open, blond ponytail showing slightly over one shoulder. "And that ground ball one, can you fix the background, take out the couch?"

"Sure. Background like on a baseball card?"

She giggled. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"Okay, I'm gonna have to research that. I'll send them to you right now," and a couple of clicks later they were gone. 

So an hour after we'd gotten to the apartment, we'd bonded sufficiently that I felt comfortable making a move. 

I bent over and kissed her neck.

"Oooooh," she moaned.

She stood and turned to face me, then wrapped her arms around my neck and we tongue-wrestled. I guided us to the bed and we lay on our sides, facing each other.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Absolutely! Yes, god yes," and I pushed my lips onto hers. She moved tight against me and ground her face into mine.

We tangled our toes as I rolled her on top of me. When we broke for air, I said, "god this is so nice, so nice."

"I know, I know, let's not stop."

We humped against each other and began dancing, our hips in sync, all the while kissing. I pulled her ass into me and she hesitated, then pressed against my erection.

I pulled off her mouth. "Grape?" I gasped.

At first it didn't register, but then understanding dawned. "I love grapes, but you already know that."

I opened the refrigerator, she took the bowl, and we scrambled back to the bedroom.

We fed each other, grape after grape. Gradually we moved from exchanging by hand to exchanging by mouth. 

"Lay back, please, Carrie."

I pulled her t-shirt up just over her bra and dropped a cold, wet grape into her navel. Her eyes flew open and she squealed.

Sucking it out of her bellybutton, I took it in my mouth and offered it to her. She took it with her lips, crunched it ostentatiously, then offered the juice back, all the while with her eyes closed. I bent over to take it and ran my hand down her thigh.

In this position it was easy for her to peal my shirt off, although I had to release her thigh to do it. 

"Kiss me, hard, please," I husked as I lay back. She shifted to her side and was on my face. I reached under her t-shirt and unfastened the bra. As her breasts fell free, she moaned into my mouth and kissed me harder.

We were both breathing heavily when we broke, her eyes locked on mine. "Let's make love," I croaked raggedly, 

"Yes, yes, I think so, but —"

"Please, Carrie, talk to me. I would never make you do anything you don't want to do." I pushed the dangling bra aside and reached for a breast.

"I know you won't, I really do, and I want to, but I've, I've, I've never done it before."

"That's okay, we'll discover each other."

"I'm on the pill."

"And I'm not," I grinned foolishly, but she laughed. 

"I mean I can, I'm just, I just want to be sure."

"You kiss like you are."

"Oh yeah, that's for sure. It's just — oh, hell, let's do it," and she pulled me to her face.

We locked lips. I trolled down her belly and she tightened her abs so I could get into her shorts. Her panties were pretty damp and, as I stroked her, she moaned heavily into my mouth.

We had to break for air.

"Stand up, please, Carrie, we've got to get naked."

She popped her button, allowing me to peel her shorts and panties off quickly. I touched her left foot and, as she lifted it, I kissed the instep. She sighed.

When I kissed the right instep, she nearly lost her balance and steadied herself by grabbing my shoulder. I rose to a squat and started to tongue her wet pussy lips.

"Oh my! Oh god, oh yes." Both hands held tight to my shoulders and I steadied her hips and pulled her into me. As I worked her lips with my tongue, then slid it inside, she pressed into me and moaned again.

I kept tonguing as she kneaded my shoulders. She bucked her hips softly at me a couple of times, but when she grabbed my shoulders and shuddered I knew she was there. 

"Oh god yes, yesssss, yesss, that is so gooood," and she lost her balance.

I grabbed her ass cheeks and held her on my face. When she seemed to be steady enough, I stood and pulled the sheets down, then guided her onto them. 

My pants and jockeys were gone quickly and I flopped beside her, hungering for her breasts.

"Sit up a little, please Carrie," and as she lifted her shoulders I had her t-shirt and bra off. She lay back, naked except for her ponytail, which lay off to the side.

I dove for the nearest breast, kissing around its base at first, then moving onto the nipple. "You're so nice, so nice, feels so nice," she moaned, and ran her hands through my hair and over my back and shoulders. 

The nipple was quickly hard and I used my thumb and forefinger work the other one into equal hardness.

I'm going to give you pleasure," I intoned.

"Oh god, yes," she moaned.

Her pussy lips were very wet. My tongue snaked in and out and she moaned deeply as she humped against my face. I cupped her ass cheeks and ground my mouth into her, flicking her already-distended clit. She began swinging her hips and grabbed hard handfuls of my hair. "Ohhh yes, god yesssss."

I had little more than the first joint of my middle finger in her opening when she jumped a little, squeaked, and humped my finger. I fluttered it and she moaned deeply.

Her thighs resisted at first as I forced myself between them and scooted into position, slobbing my fingers and wetting the cockhead. She was humping as my cock slid up to her opening. I took hold of it and stroked up and down on her wet lips, then aimed it at the middle and got the head inside.

"Ohhh god yesss, ohhh god, oh god, yessssss," and she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me tight. I withdrew to just the very edge of her opening by elevating my hips, then rammed into her. I was in half way.

"OW! Ow! Oh!" She squealed, but her humping didn't show, even if her nails did bite into my shoulders. I kissed her fiercely and held her tight. 

I was relieved that she didn't stop, didn't seem angry that I'd hurt her. I moved in and out a couple of times, working her tightness slowly.

"Meet me now, Carrie, let's dance."

"Oh, yeah, okay," and her athleticism kicked in. 

"Oh god that is sooooo good, so good," she cooed as we began to thrash against each other. 

"Good. Now harder, BANG into me," I demanded.

"YEAH!" she barked as I began to slam against her. Harder and harder we crashed, her hips smacking against mine and our bellies slapping together.

Then she came.

"Oh god oh god, I'm cumming, so FUCKING goooood!" She was bucking and swinging her hips wildly as she thrashed her head and that hair all over the pillow. 

I lost whatever control I had and just fucked her.

When I came, it was like a machine gun stream, without any connection to her slowing tempo. I only slowed when my cockhead protested. 

I was desperate to keep the connection as we rolled onto our sides. We clasped each other, gasping. I caressed her sweaty face.

As she started to breathe normally, her eyelids fluttered and I saw they were wet. 

"You've done it, Carl, thank you, thank you, you've done it. Finally."

We gradually pushing back the fog and I felt my cock softening. I willed it to stay hard, but failed.

"I don't know what I would have done if the grapes hadn't worked."

"Well, you did have the candles."

"What? Oh my god, the candles," I stammered. I'd completely forgotten about them. "I was going to light them, set the mood I guess." I blushed. My cock plummeted into softness.

"They worked fine. I was really touched when I saw the one on your desk. You are so sweet," and she pecked me on the lips.

The cum was oozing. "Nobody likes a wet spot. C'mon, lover, let's clean up."

As we stood, she saw the bloody patch. "Me? All that's me?"

"Yup, you're kinda wild."

I pulled the sheet off the bed and was glad that the blood hadn't soaked into the mattress pad. Note to self: in case this happens again, find some sort of protection for the mattress pad. 

"You first," I said, gesturing to the toilet as we entered the bathroom. She stood there, waiting. I remembered Margery's lesson. 

"Pee, go ahead. I've gotta rinse this out," and I ran the cold water on the sheet, chattering away for the few minutes of knuckle scrubbing it needed. Carrie finally sank onto the seat. I declared the sheet clean and threw it over the shower rod. Carrie finished and we swabbed each other with a warm facecloth.

"It's what lovers do. We're intimate, we see everything about each other."

"So can I see you pee?"

"Sure. Wanna do it the Mariel Hemingway way?"

"How's that?"

"You stand in front of me, grab my cock through your legs, direct the stream. Like in Personal Best."

"What? Oh, yeah, god, I forgot about that." I really did need to pee, so I lifted the seat and moved to the bowl. She pivoted, swinging her right leg across my front, and was in position. She grabbed my cock through her legs. It was a very satisfying pee. 

We put down a new bottom sheet and slid onto the bed. I fondled and kissed her breasts and trailed a finger into her pussy. She stroked my cock.

"Would you like to go again?" I asked, hopefully.

"Oh yeah. But I hurt a little, sore really."

I rolled her on top of me. 

"Sit up on my hips. Oh yeah, I like this view," I said, as her breasts swung close to my face. I was getting hard.

"Take my cock into your mouth, wet it really good."

"You're not going to —"

"Nope. If we're both wet, it goes in easier." She bent over and took maybe two inches into her mouth, bobbed a couple of times, and pulled off.

"Lift yourself up, then lower yourself down, slowly, take as long as you need."

She had little more than the head inside when she stopped, grimacing. "Ugh, ouch. No, it's okay, slowly, I am sore, now that's better, there," and, little by little, she sank onto me. 

"You can do it just like that, up and down. Or you can lean forward over me, on your hands, and churn your hips."

"I think I'll do this," and she leaned forward on her hands and rocked her hips. 

"Tell me how it feels, Carrie, please." As she began her hair fell over her face. I brushed it away a couple of times, but it kept coming back.

I did have her breasts in my hands, though. I alternately palmed one and tweaked the nipple of the other as she pumped. It was slow at first but gradually she speeded up.

"Oh that's nice, so nice, so nice," I encouraged. "Feel okay?"

"God yes, I'm fucking you, aren't I?"

"Yes, and you're good at it. I'm getting really turned on." She swung her hips a little.

"Swing 'em more, go up and down, hard, yeah, again, up and down, you're gonna make me cum, Carrie. Do it. Swing. Fuck me, oh fuck me, FUCK ME!" and I was cumming.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, god, god, it's cumming, I'm gonna cummmm!" she wailed as she swung her head, her hair flying wildly. 

As her climax ebbed, she folded herself onto my chest. I held her tight as we gasped for breath.

"You okay?" I croaked.

"Okay, okay, great okay," she croaked back.

Slowly our breathing returned

I pushed her hair out of my face. "What happened to your hairclip? I haven't been sure who was up there for the last ten minutes," I cracked.

"Had it knotted, completely forgot about it, must have come loose with all the activity," she said with a grin.

"You free for lunch?"

"I am NOT leaving this bed!"

"Then it's a naked lunch in bed. Actually, that's probably a bad idea, crumbs and stuff. C'mon, let's eat in the kitchen." 

She opened a sparkling water and sat down while I started the sandwiches. She shifted, uncomfortably.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, it's uh, it was dripping down my leg, now it's puddling on the chair."

"That is soooo erotic," I leered. She grinned and scooped up a dollop with the tip of her finger and held it out. "You and me, right?"

"Right."

She licked it and considered. "Not much of a base, but it could replace salt in certain drinks." We grinned wickedly at each other.

"It's 12:15. How long can you stay?"

"Start work at six."

"Thought you only worked nights."

"I've got Thursday through Sunday nailed down, six to twelve. But I pick up whatever else I can. I got tonight when they needed somebody."

"Alright, it's bathroom time," I said, and we cleaned each other. There wasn't much need to swab the sheets. I set the alarm for five and we lay beside each other, kissing and fondling.

"What other surprises do you have in your bag of tricks?" she inquired, coyly.

"We're going exploring."

"Where?"

"As if you don't know. Over each other's body."

"Nothing subtle about your approach, is there?"

"I'm pretty easy to predict. I just can't get enough of you," and I slid down to her pussy. The muskiness was a turn-on and pretty soon I had her clit in the open. 

"Do you like that?" I said as I flicked my tongue against it.

"Yessss," she breathed. 

I took it with my lips and swirled my tongue around the nub. "Mmmfpf?" I asked again.

"Yes, that's really nice," she husked.

Pressing the nub against my teeth with my tongue, I got a soft moan out of her. I pressed a little harder. "Oh god, yes, that's soooo goooood."

I pulled off. "Thank you. Please tell me when I do something you like."

"Are you always such a chatterbox when you're fucking?"

"I like to talk before, during, and after. I love it when we tell each other what gets us excited." I dropped back to her pussy and pressed her clit against my teeth.

"Oh god yes, don't bite it off, please."

I dropped down to tongue her opening. The lips were almost purple, full, and wet, really wet. I sucked one into my mouth and she moaned. I pulled off and licked up and down the entire opening.

"Tell me!"

"I am, I am, it's nice, it's nice. I am getting so charged up."

I moved up to her breasts and sucked a nipple into my mouth. "Ooooo," she cooed.

"Do you feel the little points when I touch them with my tongue?" I asked, trailing it across the small field around the nipple.

"It's light, almost velvet, sooo nice," she said, her eyes closed.

I was fingering her clit and nibbling her second nipple when she bucked. 

"You're getting me close. God, play with my clit, there, oh yeah, that's good, both fingers, squeeze just a little, oh yeah, oh yeaaaaah," and she stiffened, bucked, and clamped her thighs together.

"Oh god, I'm cumming, it's good, oooooh yeah, oooooh yeah," she said as she swung her hips around as she feverishly licked her lips.

She jerked, then again, and squealed. "YESSS! Oh fucking yes! Yes! God yesssss!"

As she settled onto the bed there was a glowing smile on her face. 

Capture that image. Call it "Just Fucked."

I stroked her belly and ran my fingers through her pubic hair, marveling at the light texture.

She recovered and turned to me.

"Now you, I'm gonna take you to heaven," she said.

"How?"

"You like to fuck?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, I mean, it's okay," I tried for a clueless look.

"But there are other things, aren't there? I've looked at porn. I'm going to give you a blowjob."

She pushed me onto my back and slid down. My cock was now a stiff stick.

She trolled her fingers through my chest hair toward my nipple, leaned over and kissed it.

"Gonna start at the top." She sucked the other nipple.

"I like that. Use your teeth, gently.

"That's nice. Harder.

"Press it into your teeth with you tongue, gently, more, oh yesss, that's really good." I felt a tingle in my balls.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 09



"You got the right nipple, it's the most sensitive. I like it just a little bit rough, not too much." I was stroking her hair.

She released the nipple and trolled her fingers down my belly. I squirmed, moaned a little. And shut my mouth.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Did you like that? C'mon, Carl, this isn't a one-way conversation."

"You've got such a soft touch. Usually my belly is a waystation to my bellybutton. Never thought much about it as an erogenous zone."

She resumed trolling, then circled my navel. "Man what I wouldn't give for a cold grape right now," she deadpanned.

"Try something else."

BLATTT! I jumped, I squealed, I grabbed her head and pulled her into me, hard.

"You doin' that for effect?"

"I loved the surprise. More, do more."

She licked my navel, then sucked on it. "Ouch!" I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm —"

"Shhh, shhhh, it's okay, just not one of my erogenous zones."

She trickled her fingers down the trail of my belly hairs to the base of my cock.

"The top's a different color than when you peed," she noticed, "but it was like this when I got it wet when we fucked. How come?"

"When I'm hard, turned on like you've got me right now, a lot of blood flows into my cock. It makes the shaft longer and stronger, so I can get inside you. And it makes the head bigger, so all the nerves in it are exposed. And maybe also to get a better ripple effect in your pussy. Man, is it sensitive right now."

I lay back and closed my eyes.

She walked her fingers like ants, up the shaft, from the bottom to the base of the head. "Like that?"

"When I know it's you, anything you do is good. But the shaft is just a carrier, that's not where the action is. Go up again, this time kissing and licking."

Her tongue was surprisingly rough, a new sensation. I opened my eyes and she was smiling. "You were moaning so softly," she said.

"It was so nice." She tongued down the other side to the base. 

"Can we move this along? I really want to cum."

"In a rush? I'm having fun."

"You wanna have fun, go play softball. I wanna cum."

"Ohhh, testy aren't we?"

"I'll do it myself."

"And I'll break your wrist."

Between words she was working up my shaft with her tongue. At the top she ran her tongue around the head and I moaned.

"Like that, eh?"

"You're teasing me."

By now the precum was oozing out. She spread it around with her finger and caressed it lightly. "This is slick enough. Why do you need me to get you wet before you get in me?"

"Doesn't last long, drys off," I croaked and licked my lips.

She took the head and maybe another inch into her warm, wet mouth and swirled her tongue around it, then popped off. 

"Salty, nice, would be an interesting addition to a drink. Probably couldn't get enough, though, right?" I moaned again. 

"What do I do now?" she said, giving me another suck.

"What do you want to do?"

"Caaaaarl," she warned.

"No, I'm serious. You want to do a blowjob or a handjob?"

"Blowjob."

"Okay. They're really the same thing, from my perspective anyway. The idea is to make me cum. With a handjob, you use your hand and the cum goes all over. With a blowjob you use your hand and your mouth and you take the cum in your mouth."

"I know thaaat, I've watched porn too."

"With a handjob, you really don't care when I cum. But with a blowjob, I'll give you as much warning as I can, and you want to time it.

"The ideal situation is to have the head fairly far back in your mouth, so the cum goes to your throat and you can swallow easily. If I cum in the front of your mouth, the volume can seem overwhelming. It takes practice."

"So I'm going to be giving you lots of blowjobs?"

"I could get used to that."

"Alright, let's get to work,"

No point in getting into the finer points, especially since you've never been on the doing end. Give her as much warning as you can, talk her through it. She liked the cum at lunch, so she's probably not grossed out about it.

Carrie was bobbing slowly, rhythmically, down as far as she could, then up to the head, then down again.

"Vary what you do. When you come up, stay on the head, suck it, swirl your tongue around, play. Then go down, even try to get your throat muscles to squeeze it."

"Kewl."

She's an athlete, she gets this stuff pretty quickly. Mmmm, this is nice.

"You don't have to hold it steady with your hand, you can bring your hand over the head and play with it."

"Oh, okay, like this?" and she jacked me.

"Oh yeeeaah, goddddddd that's nice," I croaked.

"Alright, enough instruction, I'm gonna do it, we'll see what happens. Cum like a geyser!" and she attacked.

She already had me pretty close, but I'd learned a little bit about control and had held back as I tutored. Now I gave in to the pleasure.

"Oh yesss, Carrie, so nice, so nice, oh yessss, that's so nice, you're sooooo good." I laid my hand encouragingly on her ass as she worked.

I felt my balls start to deliver. "I'm gonna cum, I'm cumming, here it comes, oh goddddddd I'm CUUUUUMING!" and I exploded, shooting a huge spurt into her mouth.

"Eeeeep!" she squealed and pulled off. 

"Back on!" I shouted. 

She did, but as she moved forward the second blast caught her in the face. She almost had me in her mouth when the third one hit, adding to the decoration. The fourth one was in her mouth and she bobbed until I begged her to stop.

"Carrie," I gasped, "come up here."

The cum was all over her face, in her hair, her ears. I wanted her mouth, needed her to know how much I loved what she had done and accepted all the tastes. 

I was wearing that "just came" smile as we separated.

"I, I wasn't expecting it, so, so fast," she stammered.

"That was wild! God you are a trouper!"

"And . . . and I love it! I mean, it was a surprise, but nothing bad happened. God it was so hot! It was so fast, so warm. You squeaked when you started to cum."

"I did?"

She grinned. "Yeah! I made that happen. God," she said, "it's dripping off my nose."

"And it's in your eyebrows and all over your face. C'mon, shower time," and we zipped into the bathroom.

She wrapped her hair in a towel (note to self: buy large woman's shower cap) and was in the tub by the time I had gotten the temperature right. She closed her eyes and tilted her face into the spray, washing the cum away. I stood behind her, working up a major lather for the rest of her.

Love to fuck again. Bet you can cum four times in seven hours! Send her to work happy.

Like her legs, her shoulders were strong. She'd talked about conditioning to increase her arm speed, but I hadn't thought about her shoulders. I soaped all over her, down her back and into her ass crack, tickled behind her knees, and got her feet.

"Let's switch places so I can soap your front," I said, and she moved around me. I started with her shoulders, then her arms, armpits, and chest, using the soaping as an excuse to fondle her breasts. I made quick work of her taut belly and was soon on her pussy, with its pouty lips now more visible through the dripping pubic hair.

"I love your body."

"You certainly have," she cracked. "Okay, my turn."

We had pretty well exhausted the bar of soap by the time she finished. We dried each other off and sauntered back to the bedroom.

"Wow, it's three already. I set the alarm for five."

"Know something we can do with two hours?" 

"Wanna be on top again? This time you ride me like a cowgirl, stay upright, no hands, I get to play with you while we fuck."

"Okay, here we go," she said. Once on top she bent and took my cock in her mouth, slobbed it, and popped off.

"Get on me, please, I want you so much," I begged.

She missed the first time but had me more than half way inside on her second try. I thrust twice and we were fully joined.

"Now ride. Fly. Swing. Try squeezing me with your pussy muscles. I'm gonna play with you," and I started to work the hood over her clit.

"Oh man, this is RAW!" she husked, and began bouncing. Her face got flushed pretty quickly and she was swinging her mane to music I couldn't hear.

Then I did something I loved, which was to grab her hips and hold her at the very top of her stroke, then probe her pussy lips with my cockhead.

I timed it well and barely had the head inside her lips.

"What? Wait! Let me go!" Twice I thrust up, almost entirely inside, then out to the very edge. Then I slammed us down on the bed. "Fuck me now! Hard! HARD!" I demanded.

"Damn right I am!" and she was off. The only part of her I could reach was her clit, so I thumbed it furiously as she dervished on my pole.

"You're making me cum! Hard on my clit, HARD, yeah, oh god, oh god, that's —" and she froze herself at the top of her stroke and flung herself around in ecstasy.

At which point, I came. 

Her legs were too strong for me to pull us together. She won that battle and I wound up with my ass high up in the air, humping until it hurt.

Then I let go and crashed onto the bed, my slick cock surrounded by nothing but air.

Seconds later she collapsed on me, her chest heaving. As usual, her hair was in my face and there was cum all over the place. 

We drifted. When I woke, she was laying beside me, snoring softly. Neither of us was wheezing and the clock said it wasn't even 4:15. 

 You have nothing left.

The warm cloth woke her enough that she smiled sleepily as I swabbed her thighs. I finished, tossed the cloth, and molded myself to her.

"You see a shy virgin around here anywhere?"

"Her body was taken over by a cock-hungry shortstop. What's this?" she said, taking hold of my softness and bending to take it into her mouth.

"No, no, please no, Carrie, I'm done. Four cums in six hours is a lot more than a mere mortal should be expected to handle. If I'd known we were going to end up this way, I'd have skipped masturbating for a week, to save energy."

"You masturbate?"

"Sure. Don't you?"

"Well, of course, but I'm not getting laid. You are."

"And you know that because —"

"Because Margery and Ruth wanted me to meet you and George, that's why I was at her house the other week."

"We were on display?"

"Not exactly," she said, shifting to face me. 

"Look, Ruth and Margery are my friends. Ruth rescued me from a black hole of despair last winter. 

"A couple of weeks ago, they told me about your club, let me know about its advantages, and asked me to consider whether it would work for me.

"Margery took me to the picnic, introduced me around. She said 'Look around, see anyone you like? They're all normal. Just like you. They've got the same problem — they have no time for the hit-or-miss dating scene. 

" 'For whatever reason, if the choice is between the anxiety and uncertainty of dating and loneliness, at some point they've chosen loneliness. The club is their way back.'

"It was a thunderbolt! Everybody seemed to know everybody else, they were having fun. As Ruth put it so delicately, 'they have relationships with each other whenever they want them.'

"I can't remember when I first started thinking about sex," Carrie mused. "Mom kept me from dating until I was past 16, said it was for my own good, but I think she wanted to keep me away from guys as long as she could.

"When I did start dating, the guys who asked me out only wanted to get into my pants. First date. Every time. When I said no, there was no second date. 

"After six months I stopped. I was ashamed, I thought I was responsible for what guys tried to do to me. 

"I think it's because I'm 'trailer trash,' " she continued. "We live in a trailer park. Dad disappeared when I was ten. It's all mom can afford. There are parts that are pretty seedy, and in my junior year there were three women arrested for prostitution the next street over.

"My older brother Ray went out on his own when I was 12, worked two jobs, went to community college nights, got his degree, always sent us money. Bob finished high school when I was 14, got a partial scholarship, and came here. Ray had a regular job but both of them bartended parties with a friend of theirs.

"Bob taught me the bartending trade, took me along as a waitress, busser, whatever, showed me how things worked.

"One night, when we got home from a party, we sat in his car and talked. 

" 'You know this is your ticket out of here, right? You go to college, work hard, save your money. After college you get a good job, make something of yourself.' 

" 'Somebody's gotta take care of mom. I can bartend full time, there's good money in it.'

"He grabbed me, HARD, by the shoulders, and shook me. 'Ray and me, WE'LL take care of mom, we've got good jobs. YOUR job is to get good enough grades to go straight to college.'

" 'Promise me, PROMISE ME! Don't fuck this up.' "

"He was right. I focused on school — sports, studying, working parties on weekends. I ran cross country in the fall, played volleyball in the winter, and softball in the spring. I made National Honor Society and finished in the top five percent of my class.

"I tried dating again early in my senior year. Only guys who seemed respectful. But it didn't work. One day Jenna said, 'you know, there is another way.'

"Jenna and Barbara were like me, three sports. I started hanging out with them. The guys spread the rumor that I was also a lesbian, and it hurt. 

"I decided to give it a try. I did a 'sleepover' with them and they showed me some videos and let me watch what they did. It was hot! I loved it when they touched me, and Jenna made me cum.

"But it wasn't what I wanted.

"So I shut down again. Nothing the rest of my senior year. Weekends and summers I worked private parties. I saved every penny, which was a good thing because mom got sick last spring and couldn't work for two months. We nearly lost the trailer, it was my savings pulled us through.

"When I got here, I went right to work at SOL. Bob had worked at Lit when he was here and was friendly with the bartender at SOL, so he recommended me as an assistant bartender.

"My life here's been a lot like high school. I can't tell you how many guys in the dorm or in the gym have hit on me. I've gone out a couple of times, but it's always the same.

"In the winter I was in one of those private study carrels, behind the reading room desk, when the loneliness just overwhelmed me. I started crying. At some point, when I ran out of breath, there was this quiet knock on the door. It was Ruth.

"She got me talking. I've never had an adult friend and I let it all out. Afterward, I was panicked that I'd said too much and hid from her, but she tracked me down. Sometimes I'd go to her house for a meal.

"We discovered that I was in Margery's dorm and she introduced us. They've helped me so much."

I hugged her tight and she squeezed my cock with her thighs.

"Would it be okay if I came to your game on Saturday?"

"Sure, but why would you?"

"Because I like watching attractive women in shorts running around, sweating. And because, besides being lovers, we're friends, right?"

We showered, avoiding trying to turn each other on, and she headed off to her room. After a friendly kiss and a squeeze, of course.

I knew better than to call Margery. First, the girls had to talk. Second, I knew she was swamped with Carlucci's work.



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 10



Literratica was busier than I'd seen it in a week.

I'd taken a two-hour nap after my day-long fuckfest with Carrie. It was after eight and I was hungry. I called Tom to see if he wanted to join me at Lit, but it went straight to voicemail.

"It's starting, thank god," said Lisa as she arrived to take my order. "I hate it when nobody's around. 'Course I can get a lot of writing done, but no income. Got some ideas I want to show you about the drunk pictures. We could do an exhibition."

"I'm game. Tomorrow? Breakfast?"

"Maybe. Let me see how pounded I am after tonight. What'll it be?"

"I need energy food, protein. Got a steak?"

"Prime rib. How d'ya want it? Beer?"

"Medium rare. No, Sprite, thanks."

My cell rattled. It was Tom. 

"Sorry I missed you, I was obsessing about a job. What's up? Any problems with the installation?"

"Nope, everything's great, approved, ready to roll. I just wanted to see if you were free for dinner. I'm at Lit. Wanna join me?"

"Yeah, sure." He arrived fifteen minutes later, sweating.

"They must have built the whole fucking campus with idiot non-union labor. The electrical system is a complete mess! There are no as-builts, I can't find out where some feeds come from, and I swear one of the junction boxes was made out of papier-mâché."

"Tell me what you really think," I teased.

"I'm serious. One of my side jobs is working on the server that's supposed to handle the merger of the bursary cards and ID cards. You heard about that?"

"Yeah, Lisa told me. Sounds good."

"Good idea, rough execution. Bursary and ID are different programs, commercial software written in different languages and designed for different operating systems, that's the way they've always been.

"Some bureaucratic genius decided to kludge them together, it was cheaper that way. Of course it didn't work. They were way behind schedule when they finally decided to find someone, somewhere, who had already written code for combining the two programs.  

"Turns out one of the California state university campuses has a combined system, so they bought a license and had them do some customizing. We got the source code as a backup. 

"But the same bureaucratic genius that got us way behind schedule is paranoid about the system being hacked, since it's not gonna be on the mainframe, just a small unix box, and it's gonna be in a very secure place, all its own.

"The room where they want to keep it has all sorts of non-critical stuff in it. It's big enough, and the air conditioning will handle it, but the electrical system is crap, and up until now nobody seemed to care. Now they want the electrical system to be rock solid, never a chance of outages — they even bought a battery backup that will last twelve hours.

"I've spent at least twenty hours trying to trace down where the juice comes from, since this machine's gonna be going 24-7. God I hate bureaucrats!

"They're so far behind schedule that they've eliminated all the beta-test sites except Lit. The new ID cards being issued to the summer students have the capacity, but nobody's using it. They want to install the terminals here next week and get it running as fast as they can. Stupid bastards!"

It was a little too engineer-y for me, so I changed the subject.

"You've been in summer before, right? Pretty much all the girls I was friendly with are gone. How do you handle, uh, meeting new girls when you're working?"

"This is the third summer I've stayed here. I've got a good room in the dorm, so I'm staying put. I've had this AV job for two years now, before that I stayed to make up two courses I'd failed freshman year.

"The problem isn't the girls, but they're so young. The problem," he deadpanned, "is that they don't want to go out with geezers like you and me."

"I'm not old! I won't be twenty till July!"

"Thing is, you gotta be visible after class, in the afternoon. If you're working, that's a real handicap. I work hard, pull as much overtime as I can get. I'm not done till at least six, sometimes later, like tonight, and I'm not much for concerts or the bars. 

"This place is party central all summer. I mean, they do teach college-level courses, there's real work being done, but there's so much more socializing, outdoors, than during the regular semester. 

"And they have all these 'special' programs, where they bring in kids for things like 'Ecology and World Religion,' where they run a debate and two classes weekly for four weeks. Virtually no reading or writing papers, just show up, pass the exam, get credit. 

"It's not fluff, they get good faculty. It's just that they doesn't want to make it too tough, otherwise the special programs won't come back, and that would kill enrollment, which means they lose money.

"So they do entertainment, lots of it. SOL, for example, has a big problem with that, because the concerts and stuff the university does are either free or cheap. Outdoor concerts, Ultimate Frisbee tournaments, lots and lots of participatory things. It's fun, but if you're not there, it's tough to catch anybody's attention."

"So how do you, uh, cope?"

"I'm a techy, a geek. I know it, it's my lot in life. Last two summers I've been sorta lucky, met a geek girl. Y'know, just like Karen. I mean, you meet girls all the time, it's just tough finding the time, what with working all day."

"They don't have any problems with being in each others' rooms?"

"Regular students, no, of course not. The special programs, though, they usually have chaperones, and they're usually housed in the suites. I mean, some of these kids are fourteen or fifteen, so their parents want them under some sort of supervision. You see 'em all over, they move like gazelle herds, always together. Couldn't pick one off if you wanted to."

"Then I'm dead! The interviews are going to give me, max, five minutes' exposure with six or seven people per day, six days a week. I'm stuck in a fourth-floor lab with no windows. And I'm no more interested in the bar scene than you are.

"And if the concert I ran into at SOL the other night is any indication, I'm not going to like the music."

I slipped into self-pity.

"You live in the dorms?" said Tom. "That's how I met my girlfriend last Summer, she was reading a technical manual in the lounge."

"No. I thought I was being smart, so I got an off campus apartment."

"Well," he said, slapping the table, "looks like we'll have to look out for each other. What kind of girls do you like?"

*

You really are a horney bastard! 

You spend a whole day seducing, then fucking, a fantastic girl. She's a virgin with a tight athletic body and a good mind, who's willing to do anything. You even get to play teacher, good for the ol' ego.

And now, not even six hours after she's squeezed your cock as she left the apartment, you're trolling for somebody new?

Okay, nature of the male animal and all that. God, fucking Carrie was great! She loved being eaten. Got to add some new nuances to the repertoire.

Should have been prepared for her pulling off your cock during that blowjob. Well, sailor, remember your first fuck, you didn't exactly cover yourself in glory either. Chalk it up to experience.

I tried to masturbate, to Carrie's face, but couldn't sustain an erection.

*

In the morning I made a shopping list of things I needed, including a bunch of groceries and a large woman's shower cap, and did a run. I was running out of weekdays before the six-day-a-week, six or seven-weeks-straight run of interviews, videos, and indexing.

I couldn't find the short of protective sheet I wanted. There were rubberized sheets for incontinence problems, but nothing that don't make crinkly sounds or look institutional.

The bathroom needed a complete scrubbing. It's amazing how widely you can spray when there's a naked girl trying to aim your cock.

I wanted to call Margery, find out how I'd done with Carrie, and I REALLY wanted to get Carrie to come back to my bed, but neither one seemed like a good idea right now. Besides, Margery was probably working. If I called Lisa, she'd probably bite my head off for disturbing her concentration.

Classes at least impose a routine. What you've got now is unstructured time. Go for a walk, pick up a girl, bring her back here, fuck her lights out. Yeah, and get a disease. And it's not even lunchtime yet. Crap.

Amanda! Margery said I should talk to her, she and Ruth are conspirators in recruiting for the club. She works at the reference desk in the library.

*

"Hi, I'm Carl, a friend of Ruth McGowen."

"Oh hi. Amanda Mortimer. Mindy," she called to the other librarian, "I'm gonna take my break now. You can handle things?"

"Ha! Place's deader'n the tomb. Take your time."

It was a glorious day, so we picked up a couple of wraps and bottles of water and found an out-of-the-way table in the library's commissary.

"Hear anything from Ruth?" she asked.

"Not a word. She threatened my life if I even thought about calling her. I'm a little envious of her trip, since I've never been to Europe."

"Me neither," Amanda said, "but she did give me an assignment before she left."

That was quick.

"You're thinking 'recruiting' this summer, right?"

"Well, I do feel like a designated troller for the club, yeah."

"Ruth said I should track you down if I didn't hear from you before classes started. I'm glad you've reached out. It's only you and Margery who are here this summer."

"I feel like a stalker," I confided. "Six months ago I was evading anything resembling conversation with almost everybody, now I'm prying into the sex life of any guy I meet who seems like a candidate. And any girl who looks even slightly unhappy seems like grist for the mill. I'm uncomfortable with this."

"And loving it?"

"Yes, a little. Particularly the girls," I blushed. "Hey, I'm nineteen, all of a sudden I'm on a mission from God."

"Ooooo, Ruth said she'd found a live one," Amanda teased.

"What?"

"Look," she said, leaning conspiratorially across the table, "this club is the most noble thing anybody's ever done. Ruth is a saint! She opens her home to kids who are on the road to complete loneliness, really bad decisions, even breakdowns.

"Regular sex is primal, everybody needs it, adolescents especially. If they can't connect, if they're walling off their urges or displacing them onto something that prevents them from getting it, it's unhealthy.

"That's where we come in. Ruth, and I, and a couple of others, we look for kids who need what the club provides. There are more than 15,000 students on this campus, we can't see everybody, but we do what we can from our perch here. 

"You're one of us now. We're fishing the same waters, us from the shore, you guys in a boat. Ruth and I have a great vantage point here at the library, but you and Margery and your friends in the club can go places we don't even know about.

"You're not a stalker. Better term is hunter-gatherer. Stalkers are predators, out only for themselves, unhealthily focused on a single innocent person for bad reasons. 

"Hunter-gatherers look for sustenance for the group. Much better phrase." She leaned back, smiling in self-satisfaction, and continued.

"Ruth and I have a pipeline. At any one time she has two or three she's working with, I've got one, two, sometimes three myself. We're doing all right, but lately so much of the burden has fallen on Ruth. She needs help, and you, and Margery, and Pete, you've got to be here for her this next year.

"So," she said, cards-on-the-table-like, "how's it going?" 

"Margery's amazing! I have no idea how she finds the time, but she does. Ruth and she collaborate, right?" Amanda nodded. "I'm just coming to understand my part in all this. 

"I'm exhilarated about it! I mean, I like that phrase from the 'Blues Brothers,' I'm on a mission from God. Well, maybe not from God, that's blasphemous, but yes, a mission to help people like myself."

Whoops, too much information.

"That's okay," she said, reading my mind. "I would have been so much better off if the club had existed when I was here. I know what you mean.

"Anyway, we got distracted. Have you identified any prospects yet?"

"Yeah, my roommate for next year, I picked him when I was trying to rent the other bedroom in my apartment couple of months ago. He'll be fine. He came to the picnic and we blew his mind!" I smiled, remembering his open-mouthed wonder.

"And one of the others who looked at the apartment might be a possibility, but I haven't talked to him since I met Gene. And there's a graduate student, met him doing the technical stuff for my job. I think he's good material. And George's friend Frank, who's working on Cape Cod this summer, he'll be good.

"But it's hard! This time last year I wasn't interested in anything except taking pictures, feeling superior, and trying to figure out how I could get laid." I blushed, but she nodded encouragingly.

"Now it's this mix of mentally undressing every girl I see and trying to figure out if she'd be right for the club."

"Welcome to the land of institutional responsibility," smiled Amanda.

We walked back to her desk. "I love this place! Librarianship is a lot like therapy. My job is to help people get where they want to go. Sometimes you just have to re-direct them."

*

It was only one o'clock and I was bored. So I did what I usually do when I felt this way: I grabbed my camera and started taking pictures. 

It's a huge cliché to photograph kids and their parents humping stuff from a car or van into a dorm. But it is fun.

By four I'd shot about 250 pictures, three dads and a mom had given me business cards so I could send the pictures to them, and I'd met four cute girls, two of whom made it clear that I would be welcome if I came back when their parents were gone.

So I did.

Her bed was piled with boxes, but her TV and laptop were in place and she was dispersing clothes when I knocked on her open door.

"Oh hi. Carl, right?" I smiled yes. "I'm Kate.

"C'mon in. I've got to finish this up now or it'll never get done." For twenty minutes I sat on the edge of the other single bed, chatting with her about why she was here (early start on freshman year), where she was from (downstate suburb, just like me), family (younger brother), why she chose this dorm (close to library), what she wanted to major in (civil engineering, like her father), and how excited she was to be away from home (very).

"There," she said, hanging the last of her pants in the closet. "Home for the next year! Once I make the bed, I am ready to rock 'n' roll!"

She was slightly shorter than me, just thin enough, with an elongated face that reminded me of a thoroughbred horse. Her hair was brown and it broke on her shoulders, and she had a small but decent chest. A family photo on her dresser showed a handsome family. 

"Done! Good! Okay, let's go."

"Where?"

"I dunno. You're the expert on this place. It's like in 'Alice in Wonderland,' when she met the cat. I don't know where I'm going, so it doesn't matter where I go." 

After two hours of reconnoitering the campus, we wound up at the union's Italian food court, just before closing. We hit the buffet line, took our trays outside, and perched on the stone wall.

"This is great! I am so gonna love going to school here! Nobody's gonna hassle me. I've always had my own room but I've never had a sister. I've talked with my roommate and I think we'll get along. 

"I'm gonna do well. High expectations at home since dad's an engineer too. I've gotta hit the books."

We dumped our trays in the bin and I suggested a look at the nearby part of town. It was just getting dark as we headed back to her dorm.

The car nearly run over us as it made a too-fast turn, side-swiped a parked car, and rear-ended another. 

Kate went into para-medic mode.

The cut above the bridge of the driver's nose, caused by the exploding air bag smashing into her glasses, was spewing blood, but otherwise she seemed okay. Kate ripped the pocket off her shirt and made a small square. "Hold this on the cut," she directed. 

Then she turned to the passenger, who hadn't been wearing a seat belt. He was bleeding from a big gash on his forehead and was crying from the pain of a broken arm and maybe something else, from hitting the dashboard.

As the crowd gathered, Kate asked in a conversational voice that someone please call 9-1-1.

"Anybody here knew first aid?" A woman said she was a nurse, so between them they got the passenger calmed down. Kate commandeered my t-shirt, tore it into strips, and had the guy's arm immobilized by the time the ambulance arrived.

I shot two dozen one-handed photos from my position next to the driver.

The police officer took our statements about what happened, and we gave her our names and addresses. She gave me her card and I promised to send the photos. The ambulance crew gave me a UVAC ("University Volunteer Ambulance Corps") shirt to wear. When they glided away and the tow truck began its work, we left the scene.

We were both a little shaky. When Kate caught a glimpse of herself in a store window, she freaked.

"There's blood all over my shirt!" she shrieked, "It's my favorite tee. I've got to wash it out before it sets."

In her dorm's bathroom she pealed the shirt off and was knuckling the blood out under the cold water when I asked her for her room key. "I'll get you another shirt," I said.

"Okay, thanks," and she fished her keys out of her jeans and tossing them to me. She had a whole drawer of t-shirts, so I took the top one from the left-hand pile and brought it back.

"Oooo, good taste," she said, stopping to put it on. I had gotten smart enough to just smile at such compliments.

Back in her room, she draped the wet shirt on a wooden hanger and hooked it over the knob of her dresser.

I took her in my arms and kissed her.

She kissed back, hard, passionately, grabbed my ass and ground into me. I slid my hands under her shirt and unhooked her bra, then stepped back so I could roll the shirt over her head.

"Good! I am so gonna like this place!" She raised her arms, then slid her shorts and panties down in one motion as I fumbled with my belt as she pulled my shirt off. Everything hit the floor as we kicked off our sandals.

"C'mon," she husked, and pulled the quilt off the sheets and me into the bed.

I rolled her onto me and pinned her hips to my erection as we kissed, tongue-wrestled, and humped against each other. She pushed her breasts into my chest and I squeezed the globes of her ass into my crotch.

We broke and I moved aside to let her lay on her back. "Condom," she husked.

Ever since Linda gave me the preparedness lesson, I'd carried one in my wallet. 

"Hurry! God hurry, I'm so hot, hurry!"

I rolled it on and scooted toward her pussy. Her moisture and excited smell drew me in and I buried my face there and began licking.

"No! Fuck me!" I wanted to do it my way but she pulled my face up and out. I readjusted my position between her legs and pushed in, hard.

"Yessssss! Oh fuck me, stroke, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck me! FUCK me!" she commanded as she thrashed her hips wildly. She came, quickly, violently, her hair flying around and her face contorted in ecstasy. 

I came right behind her, furiously pumping a day's worth of yearning into her. I collapsed on her and we shifted to accommodate ourselves on the narrow bed. I'd had to slide out of her and missed her warmth immediately.

As we recovered, she leaned over me and kissed me lightly. I kissed back, holding her head and rimming her lips.

"That was so nice, so nice, god I love this," she said dreamily.

"I love it too. God you're wild," I panted.

I slid the condom off and was struggling to knot it when she took it from me. "Easy, here's how you do it," and in one motion she had it knotted, then handed it back to me. "Put it on the floor. Remember not to step on it," she grinned.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 10



"You the welcome wagon around here?"

"I'd pay for the job, if everyone was like you," I bantered back. 

It was almost eleven-thirty. I knew I had nothing to do tomorrow and doubted she did either. We started fondling each other. She took my slick cock in her mouth and licked me clean, then into semi-hardness.

"Oh yeah, want to play some more?" she perked. I spasmed my cock in a yes motion.

"Goodie," she said, and started to stroke me.

"Uh, I'm pretty good at recovery, but this may be rushing it. Let's save that for later. How about I make you cum?"

"I like being eaten, if you're any good," she challenged.

"I like munching, you report on the quality," I replied. Where did that bravado come from?

"But hey, look, this bed is too narrow, one of us is going to crack our skull falling off. Let's combine the mattresses."

"Yeah, good idea." She rolled the posters on the other bed into a tube and leaned it in a corner. I yanked the two mattresses onto the floor and she spread her sheet across them. The quilt would cover us.

Her pink opening was surrounded by a manicured bush, trimmed to a neat bikini line. Her lips were small, almost demure, but clearly moist.

I began by slowly licking up and down her entire opening, and she moaned and wiggled her ass. "Niiiice," she purred. When I tongued for her clit, she wiggled some more. "There, oh yes, that's it," she purred as I got it out and began working the large button on the short staff.

"Good, harder, yesssss, oh so good, so good."

Her button was very sensitive. "Oh god, too much," she said. "It's too much, go softer, go slower."

I worked around her lips and slipped my tongue between them. "Mmmmmpf?" I asked. "Yes, that's good, so good, don't stop." 

The first lip was soft, now puffy, and I squeezed it with my lips, then tongued it. She had a firm grip on my hair as she pulled me tight against her for encouragement.

An even more appreciative reaction came when I slid a finger deep into her and fluttered. She humped against my palm and moaned her encouragement. When my two fingers started working every part of her and my tongue got back on her clit, she slammed her thighs tight. Then she exploded.

"YESSSS! Oh god, you're, you're making me —" and she humped and swirled her hips around, grabbed my shoulders and whatever other part of me was within range, and took me with her as she orgasmed. "Oh god yes. YESSSSSS!" and she thrashed her hips and swung her head around the pillowless mattress.

As she relaxed and I was able to shift position, I softly licked her thighs and stroked her belly. Her breathing slowed so I moved up to her face and kissed the sweat away. 

"Mmmmm, so nice, god you're so nice," she purred. I continued caressing and kissing, enjoying the feeling of her heat dissipating and her body relaxing.

Her hand reached for my cock, which I'd forgotten about. 

"We need to get re-acquainted, Roger and me."

"I can't wait, but we're out of condoms."

"Damn!" She sat upright. "Alright, where's the nearest pharmacy?"

"My apartment's closer, I've got some there."

"Okay, I like that idea."

Eight minutes and 12 seconds later, after running all the way, I pointed to my bedroom door.

"There," I panted.

I was out of my shorts and shirt faster than she shucked hers. I swept the blanket and sheets aside and she made herself comfortable as I snatched a condom from the drawer, rolled it on, then jumped on her.

"God yes! Fuck me, fuck me now, fuck me hard, oh god FUCK me!" and she attacked me from below as I missed the first thrust. I got it right the second time and we crashed against each other, fucking for our own pleasure, raw energy against raw energy.

"Cumming! I'm gonna CUUUUMMM!" I shouted. 

"Yes! Yes! God yes, I'm cumming too! NOW! OH GOD NOW!" Her legs hooked around me and she squeezed me into her as she swung her hips wildly.

As I recovered, I shifted enough to reach the ring and held it till I was soft, then tossed it into the wastebasket.

"Welcome to college, Kate," I whispered in her ear.

"Thanks for the tour," she whispered back.

*

I woke just after sunrise, needing to pee. Kate was still sleeping when I came back. I considered a wake-up fuck but decided to hold off.

It was past seven when I woke again, this time to the smell of eggs and bacon. 

"G'morning, sunshine. How do you like your eggs?" She was naked, standing in the doorway. flashing her pussy at me. 

"What?"

"Eggs. Bacon. You looked so peaceful there. I got us some breakfast food. I assume you can tolerate orange juice?"

I followed her to the kitchen and plopped down. She flipped two eggs onto each plate, pulled a pan of bacon out of the oven and placed it between us, then sat and raised her juice glass. 

"Cheers! Sleep well?"

"Very, thanks to you." We clinked glasses and talked as we ate.

"You jumped right in on that accident. Where did that come from?"

"I volunteer at the ambulance corps back home. Took first aid. I'd never seen an accident happen right in front of me, it was just automatic. I'm sorry about the shirt, hope it wasn't your favorite or anything."

"No, I've got a bunch in the drawer. Tell me, what else do you do?"

"I play the guitar, sing in the church choir, and run cross-country. I don't drink, smoke, do drugs. I am going to be Phi Beta Kappa and a civil engineer. I'll get married, have three adorable kids, and I'll live well and travel widely." 

I felt like a bit player in her fully-planned life drama.

"Why me?"

"Because I like you. I saw you being nice to people, giving them pleasure with your picture-taking. Then you showed somebody you'd never met before around this gigantic place, pitched right in when you were needed, and you weren't shy about me at the appropriate time. I'd probably have jumped you anyway, but it was great that you made the first move."

In the shower we soaped each other so much we decided we looked like snowmen, except she had a better figure. We rinsed, and she went for my cock.

I prefer sex in bed, and the shower is awkward, but it can be fun. She sucked, and swirled, and jacked, fondled my balls and got an explosion of cum greater than I would have thought I had. She swallowed, popped off, and licked her lips.

"And now we're going back to my room and use those mattresses."

We dressed. I took a handful of condoms from the box and we sauntered back to her dorm.

"Hi, I'm Cassie, you must be Kate. Looks like a tornado hit this place." She gestured to the mattresses and sheets, then looked me up and down.

"I'm Carl, pleased to meet you."

"Carl gave me a tour of the campus. C'mon, let's get these mattresses back where they belong." Between the three of us we got them back to their beds as Kate and Cassie exchanged essential data. 

It was time for me to go.

"Kate, I'm glad you had a good time. I'll call you. Cassie, nice to meet you. See you guys around."

*

That did not happen.

Every photo that's supposed to have her in it is going to be blank, or blurred, or somehow not show her. She's an apparition, she doesn't really exist, she's too perfect, like Lisa in "Weird Science." Only I know I fucked her twice, ate her, and she gave me a blowjob three hours ago in the shower.

But there she was, 27 times. 

I uploaded the photos to Flickr for the cop and the four parents who had given me business cards, then sent emails to let them know where they could see the photos. 

Two or three of the photos of Kate were decent, but I couldn't get a portrait or even a decent Facebook shot out of them,

She doesn't need the club, that's for sure. She'll be her own club! If you're looking to fall in love, you'd put her on the list, wouldn't you? But you probably wouldn't come close to making hers.

For the fourth time in about a month, you've pursued a woman successfully. A hundred percent successfully. So why not stop random girls on the street and ask them to fuck, just like we used to dare each other to do in seventh grade?

Well, probably not. But, if you get engaged in their lives, seems like you have a real good chance. Kewl.

*

It was almost eleven o'clock when I realized I'd forgotten the Honda appointment. The service desk guy said no problem, bring it over, it may take a little longer. It was done by two.

*

By late afternoon I was stoked — 102 responses had come in! Despite the ad's warning that communication should only go through the website, Marilyn had gotten six calls and two personal appearances demanding to be part of the study. 

I called Don to report.

"That's terrific! You're all set?" he asked.

"Yes, I've tested the software — selection, response, scheduling, reminders all work. Only problem now could be that we don't get the right demographics."

"We'll get a head start on the interviews, we can always run the ad again if we need to, that's not a problem."

Anna was pleased. "Good. I like to get these things moving. Wednesday's still first day, right?"

"Right."

It just didn't seem reasonable to masturbate before falling asleep.

*

Carrie had told me her weekend games were at nine on the far women's practice field. I got there about 10 minutes before and found 14 women warming up, Carrie among them.

"Carl! It's nice of you to came." She introduced me as her friend to the others and I settled in on the risers along the first base line, the only spectator. By ten after nine there were only 17 players, so they decided to play without a center fielder and that the last three arrivals would rotate two innings each as the umpire. 

The pitchers were both tall and threw the ball like they were storks, winding up with arms and legs flying, then stretching low and whipping the ball from below their ass. I had a bad perspective on them, so I focused on the fielding and batting.

The angle on the right-handed batters was really good, and I was in great position for catching Carrie in action at short

On the second pitch the batter slapped the ball down the third-base line. In a bang-bang play, the third baseman charged, took the high hop, and shot the ball to first, beating the runner by a step. 

The game never lagged and seven innings later it was over. Carrie took nine grounders, turned a double play, and went two-for-four, a single and a double. She scraped her thigh as she slid into second and the keeper of the first aid kit ran out and attentively swabbed antiseptic from under her shorts to her knee. It was sorta erotic.

Her team lost, but no one seemed to care. It was almost eleven, the sun was high, everyone was sweating and they were hanging out, bantering with each other. As they broke up, Carrie and two other players walked over to where I was sitting. I stood.

"You guys are good," I enthused. "Lots more action here than the men's game."

"Yeah, we have fun," she said. "This is Sandy, and Portia." 

"You made that amazing cutoff in the third," I enthused to Sandy, who had taken off from left to center, tracking down what was sure to be a triple. "Cut off that ball up the middle. Boy was she pissed when she realized she was stuck with a single!

"And they ought to check the ball for power burns," I deadpanned to Portia, "the way you gunned down the steals." 

They smiled indulgently, made some small talk, and departed.

"You hungry? Let's get lunch," I asked Carrie.

"I'm a sweaty mess. Shower first, then food. C'mon," and we headed for her dorm. I chattered about the game and wondered about the pitchers, whose windups struck me as ungainly and illogical. 

Carrie explained that, with the shorter distance to home, underhand pitchers have far more options than baseball, allowing for more deception.

"Some day you ought to try batting against a rise-ball pitcher," she challenged. 

"My sports career ended in seventh grade," I said, raising my hands in front of my face for protection. "I'd whiff every time, I'd die of embarrassment.

"How's your leg? You got a good rash sliding in."

"Oh, I'd forgotten that." She stopped, pulled up her shorts, and touched the scrapes. "No real damage. Tina's super cautious, these fields have little pebbles in them, so she wants to get everything clean right away. I'll be okay, just a little sensitive."

She was the picture of a post-game ballplayer, her ponytail swaying from beneath her cap as she strode, her bat over her shoulder, festooned with spikes and glove. Her jersey obscured the breasts I knew were there.

As she bent to open her door, I was standing behind her, in heat. She was still charged up about the game, she ought to relish fucking, sweat and all, maybe even be extra excited. On the other hand —

She kissed me back, hard, as we crashed against the closed door. 

"God I want you so much," I growled as we broke for air. "I would have run out on the field and jumped you if I'd had the nerve!" She grabbed my cock and squeezed.

Her sandals were off by the time I got her shorts and panties down. The jersey and sports bra were different than anything I'd ever encountered, but I got them off without tearing them. She had my cargos and jockeys down in one motion as I got out of my t-shirt.

We landed in the middle of the unmade bed, me on top. We sucked on each other in mutual lust as I lubed my cock and plunged in.

"Oh god yes, so goooood," she moaned, wiggling her hips as my second thrust got me completely inside her.

"I'm there, oh god Carrie, I'm there, c'mon, let's go."

"Gotta keep it down," she husked, "they'll hear."

I drew a blank.

"Parents, the kids — oh god that feels so good! — they're all over, getting into their rooms." 

"Right. Oh god, so good," I said, pumping in and out. I hadn't noticed them, but they had to be everywhere, and they'd certainly notice any noise from us.

So we started slow, but it was impossible, I couldn't wait and she wasn't really interested in slow either. 

She hooked her ankles behind my ass and pulled me into her. "Fuck me, do it deep, yeah, that's so good, so good," she whispered huskily as she levered my ass against her and held my shoulders.

I smelled her drying sweat as I hovered, grunting and grimacing as I hammered her. She met each thrust with one of her own and swung her head around the pillow, her hair all over the place.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, Carrie here it cums," I grunted, and blasted into her.

"Me too, so gooood, so fucking gooood, OH O —" I interrupted her orgasmic yell by clamping my hand over her mouth, enough so that the rest was stifled. She came with a muffled roar of pleasure.

I collapsed and gingerly executed the complexity of staying inside her while turning us on our sides, all the while straining for air on a single bed. Successful, I kissed her face and held her heaving chest against mine as we slowly regained our senses.

She smiled rapturously. "God, I really was going. Thanks for keeping me from waking the dead. God, that was so good! I wasn't sure if I would remember how to do it."

"Like riding a bike, you'll always remember how, and you improve with practice," I tutored, needlessly superior. "And you do know how to ride this bike."

We lay, caressing and fondling each other, whispering. I softened and slid out. My expression must have said something about the mess, because she grinned. "Doesn't matter, gotta change 'em anyway."

The game was still on her mind. "Portia and Sandy are two of the better players. You were right about Portia's gun, she can cut 'em down. I wish I had that arm. But I'm faster than Sandy."

"You oughta clean up. You reek of sex," I leered. "I'll wait here. Want me to strip the bed?" She nodded yes, strode to her closet and wrapped herself in her robe, then wiggled her eyebrows. She grinned raffishly at me as she slinked into the hall, her hand cupping her pussy.

Don't snoop, she'll notice something's moved.

I looked out the window at the sea of cars, kids, parents, siblings, and stuff, lots of stuff, all moving like a river toward and into the dorm. Even after I opened the window and leaned out, I couldn't get a decent angle. After four shots of the room, I flipped to the ballgame photos and was reviewing them when she came through the door.

"God that felt good!" she said as she hung her robe and, nonchalantly naked, perched on the bed next to me, her breasts hanging over my lap.

"Get any good ones?"

"Don't know, until I get them on a larger screen. But," I brightened, "I know there are some of you here." We scrolled through and found eight, but couldn't really tell if they were any good.

"Come back to my place after lunch, we'll look at them," I suggested.

"No hanky-panky, right?"

"Nope, we're gonna do that NOW," and she squealed as I pushed her back and jumped between her legs. I started to slob my fingers but she pushed my hand away.

"Let me, I want to," and she took my cock in her mouth and gave it a quick, very liquid suck.

"Cowgirl, please. I love seeing your cock pumping in and out of me. And I want you playing with my clit."

We changed places and she had me inside her in two strokes.

"God this is good, I really love this," she said, swinging on my pole, throwing her hair around. I had her breasts in my hands, squeezing the nipples and palming them.

"Harder! Harder! Yeah, do that one, YIPE! Not that hard, yeah, oh god that's good." Her clit was out but getting no attention, so I slobbed two fingers and started working it, trying to keep up with her jounces. 

"OH YEAH."

I covered her mouth. "Keep it down, remember?"

"Right, sorry, but this feels so gooood," she whispered breathlessly as she swung her hips.

"Ohhhh, godddddd, that's reeeeeally good. Flick it, play with it, soooo nice, oh goddddd —" and she erupted. 

FUCK, FUUUU —" I clamped her mouth again, this time tight. She finished spinning and her hair, which had been flying around, fell over her face as she climaxed in relative silence.

"God I want to go all day, but we can't keep on like this, we're both too noisy. And we sure can't invite any of them" — I jerked my thumb toward the hall "— to join us."

She nodded, fell on me, and soon cooled. I got soft and we lay looking at each other.

"C'mon," I finally said, "let's get some food and look at the pictures."

*

The near-Julia-grade shot of her showed her unleashing the ball toward first, her tongue peeking through her lips and her face the image of determination. She didn't like the shadow that her cap cast over one eye, but she agreed that I could try to lighten the area.

We also agreed there probably wasn't enough time for the leisurely love-making session we both wanted before she had to go to work, so we just made out. She took her bra off and slid back into her t-shirt so that I could feel her up and tickle her nipples to hardness through the material.

She worked on mastering the intricacies of extracting a rigid cock from jockey underwear.

And, in the end, she practiced her blowjob technique. She left happy.

*

"Business dinner?" I asked Margery when she answered.

"You reading my mind? Yeah, that's the ticket. I have got a ton of stuff I have to do tonight and tomorrow to get ready for Monday, but we do need to talk." We went to the Olive Garden, the site of our (and my) first date. 

"You know, Carrie is really over the moon with you. What'd you do?"

I blushed. I'd never talked to anyone, let alone a girl, about the details of my sex life.

"I, uh, I, I don't know that I did anything special," I stammered. I explained about the interrupted picnic, breakfast the next morning, going back to my apartment, and the photo shoot.

"And?"

"I think she came to the decision on the spot, when I asked her to.

"She seemed relieved, I think, that she'd finally done it, now she could get on with this part of her life. We, uh, did it again, and, uh, then, uh, she, uh, well, she —"




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 10



"Blew you."

"Yes." If she already knows, why is she asking?

"It wasn't a complete success, it was her first time. I wanted her to have something positive to take to work, so we, uh, did it again."

"Let me get this straight. You munched this virgin to orgasm, then deflowered her shortly after eleven in the morning, fucked her a second time, made her lunch, took a shower with her, then she blew you, you fucked her a third time, and you hustled her out of your apartment before five in the afternoon?"

"Uh, four."

"Okay, before four."

I was panicked. "Did I do something wrong? I hope I didn't hurt her, she seemed okay." I was sweating.

"Oh no, no, nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all. Very right." She patted my hand. 

"From what I know of first times, my own included, most girls' first times are usually no better than awkward, often a lot worse. If there is a second time during the same session, it's better, but most times the experience is unfulfilling. Usually they don't have an orgasm. 

"You brought her to an orgasm every time, including before you deflowered her, and you gave her an excellent introductory lesson in blowjobs.

"Do you have any idea — no, of course you don't." She seemed exasperated.

"You are such a romantic. She's falling for you, and for good reason. 

"You did really well by not following up the day after that first time, no flowers, that sort of thing. She was worried that you didn't like her, that she was too easy, that she didn't please you, but we talked it out.

"My job is to help her through the transition. Romantic girls like Carrie expect to fall head-over-heels for their first guy, they'll pine away for each other, send flowers. You didn't. That's best in this situation.

"She was thrilled that you showed up this morning. Jumping her in her room is classic! You reassured her of her desirability after setting the boundary. You're not planning to show up at the game tomorrow, are you?"

"No, of course not. I've got work to do."

"Good, I figured you knew not to, but I wanted to be sure."

"I really like her, I haven't hurt her, have I?"

"Were you hurt when Julia left?"

"That was different. I knew she had to go back home."

"And the fact that she hasn't written, not phoned, and texted only eight letters and a space, that doesn't bother you?"

"Nooo," I said, trying to remember the last time I'd even thought about her as a person.

"That's the way it works. In this situation, the girl needs to move on, get a new lover soon after. It's pretty much the same, girls or guys. Now we have to provide the second lover, so they get used to the way things work."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And you are going to provide her the second lover?"

"Jealous?"

I exhaled. "Yes, a little."

"Typical male," she smiled. "Yes. George called the other day and I persuaded him to come down the middle of next week." She looked at me steadily.

"You won't mess this up, right?"

"Right. No. It's just, uh, well, uh, I like her. I mean I feel responsible for her learning things the right way."

"Pygmalion."

"Yeah, true."

"She's gotta fly, you know."

"And she will, I know." I sighed and retreated into a reverie. After about ten seconds, I snapped out of it.

"Okay, now let's get down to business." She looked at me closely, then took a small pad from her purse.

"Amanda says she's got three candidates, they're perfect for the club. They're here for the summer and are either sophomores or juniors. Two guys and a girl, ready to go. Add you, me, Lisa, Carrie, that's four girls and three guys. If you guys are willing to spread yourselves around, we can have fun this summer." She smiled.

"Tom, my audio-visual friend, could even the count," I pointed out. "I haven't gotten to the point of telling him about the club, but he's our kind of guy, nice but just too busy to date. 

"Four is a good start," she said. "You know how much I want to keep the club going during the year, and us being here this summer is a great opportunity to recruit. I hate this starting-over-every-Fall thing.

"The point of the club is reassurance that they are wanted, have value. Choice is a big part of that, each member has a lot of sure bets to pick from, no hassle. Four just isn't the same as 20 or 30."

"Can Amanda stall them? I'm thinking I'll just hang out with Tom, we'll go tomcatting around this summer, then I'll tell him about the club this Fall."

"Our mission is to help them to happiness," Margery said, "not delay that happiness. Once they're ready, it seems wrong to put institutional preservation ahead of personal, uh, salvation. Right?"

"How about this?" I proposed. "We each take one of them on, use condoms. I don't know Amanda's two guys, but Tom will fit right in, I'm sure. So you take him on and I'll do the new girl. Assuming they work out, then you and Lisa take on the two new guys. Afterwards, we have an orgy and post the results on YouTube."

She smacked me on the shoulder. "Apart from the orgy and YouTube, there's a germ of a plan there. Lisa will do it, I'm sure, she likes new talent, I've just never been up-front with her about it. Then we could do the picnic with no stress, just be social. 

"Why don't you check with Amanda and see what she says? Now, how do we get Tom into this?"

"He's not seeing anyone now, I know that. Probably simple is better. We all work days. The three of us have dinner, I excuse myself and you put your moist palm on his hand, look him straight in the eye, and say 'let's fuck, I can't wait another second.' " 

"You have such a way with words."

"I'm getting into this, maybe too much. When do you feel satisfied, that you've achieved something?"

"Ruth and I have talked about this. It's complicated, and I think very female. I'll explain it when we get drunk sometime."

*

I stayed up past three, running the selection software on the 314 responses we had. Every category was filled. 

After making sure that Carrie, Lisa, Margery, and Tom were selected, I sent 150 emails announcing that they had been accepted for the study. I also sent emails to the other 164 responses saying the survey was oversubscribed but that we would keep their applications on file in case we needed more subjects.

Those accepted were instructed to make an appointment for their interview using a secure website as soon as possible, for sure by Wednesday. The appointments had to be during the day, Monday through Friday, anytime between nine to noon and one to four. Saturday, nine to noon.

They couldn't complete the appointment process until they downloaded a consent form, which they were to sign and bring to the interview, along with their student ID. They would be paid after the interview.

After masturbating to thoughts of Carrie, I fell asleep.

*

Brunch at Lit was a mob scene. There was a twenty-minute wait and they had a hostess assembling mixed tables. I was seated with a man and a woman and what had to be their son. 

The parents were feeling nostalgic. It seems that 31 years ago they'd arrived as freshmen. The son looked like he'd heard this story a million times.

"The registration line was long, and slow, and it was really hot," said the father, "no internet registration then. There wasn't much to do, so I scanned around for pretty girls. Then I noticed this gorgeous girl right in front of me.

"She was talking to the guy in front of her. Her ponytail swayed when she laughed, which was often. I didn't have the courage to interrupt them. We finished registering at the same time and I worked up the nerve to ask her to have lunch."

"His idea of lunch was a vending machine," laughed the mother. "We couldn't stop talking. We walked all over campus, into town and back. From that night on we were inseparable." She flashed a "and-you-now-what-that-means" grin. "We got married after junior year. Paul here is the last of the brood." He looked like he wanted to run away.

I snapped them as a couple, Paul alone, and as a family, eleven pictures in all. They liked them and the mom produced her business card, asking me to send the photos.

Lisa was hopping. We weren't at one of her tables, but she hip-bumped me once as she went by. Our waiter hustled us along and. as we stood to leave, I promised to send a link of the pictures on Flickr.

Amanda wasn't at her desk. "She's got seniority, works weekdays mostly," said the guy sitting at her desk.

Every one of the Facebook pages for everyone I could think of had been updated, except Carol's. Carrie's had used the photo I'd taken and Chrissy was crowing about how much fun she would be having at band camp.

Sixty-three appointments were already booked, including three for Wednesday, when I logged onto the site.

Since Lisa was working lunch, I figured she might be free for dinner. Her cell went straight to voicemail. 

After driving around the outskirts of the ag school for an hour, I found what seemed like the place the cop had mentioned. On the border of a huge corn field, row after row, not a building in sight, I spotted a small stand of trees, set right up against the road, with scruffy undergrowth between them. It would never do.

As I crunched along the roadside gravel back to the car, Lisa returned my call. She was just leaving Lit and was hammered. Could she have a rain check? 

As I passed the park on my way back, I saw the huge "CLOSED" sign on the chain that blocked the pulloff.

I was contemplating dinner alone at the union when Lisa called. 

"Can I cash in that rain check? I took a nice nap and I'm hungry."

"Sure. Anywhere you'd like to go?"

"Out of town, please. I have HAD it with the hordes."

Friday's student newspaper had contained, besides our ad, a favorable review of a restaurant about fifteen miles up the river. It served Italian food at moderate prices. I called, got a reservation for 8:00, and phoned Lisa back.

"Slight dress code, slacks or skirt, and a blouse. Okay?"

"Ummm, classy. Sure."

"7:30?"

"See ya."

The place was cozy, with the river rushing past the open porch where we ate. Except for needing a citronella candle to keep the bugs away, it was perfect. She insisted on dutch.

We parked the car at Ruth's and walked to the apartment. Like the established lovers we were, we undressed each other leisurely, kissing and tickling.

"Dessert," I said, walking her backwards onto the end of the bed.

"We already had dessert."

"That was food, THIS is dessert," and I started working her pussy with my tongue. Her heat came quickly and her clit sprang out. Soon she was swinging her head and licking her lips as she moaned happily, beginning to breathe hard.

I wanted her orgasm to come from her clit, not from that hyper-sensitive breast.

"Oh my, oh yes, so good, so nice, so niiiice," she moaned. I fingered her, fluttering, in and out, tracing across the inside top of her pussy, then around her pussy lips and up to her now-prominent clit. 

"Keep going, oh yes, oh yessss." Once sucked into my mouth, her clit took over her body and she began to hump at me. She jerked up as I combined pressing it against my teeth and fluttering my fingers on the inside top wall of her pussy.

She clamped her thighs shut and humped against me. "Oh my god yesssssssss, yeah, yeah, YEAH!" and she stiffened and jerked wildly in orgasm, taking me with her.

I was only getting started.

Both nipples were firm, and my favorite breast was ready for attack. Seven o'clock came to life and the nipple got hard. I twisted the nipple on her right breast, trying for some parallel response. At first there wasn't much, her moans coming because I was working the left one, so I switched my mouth to the right one. Maybe five minutes of effort later, she responded.

"Oh god, god, you're getting me, that one's nice too, god make me cum again, keep doing that." I worked two fingers in her pussy and played with her clit while I tongued the breast. She was so close that, when I pulled off her nipple and blew, her hips sailed upward.

"GODDDDDDD that's it! Oh god, I am cumming, now, ohhhhh," and her thighs crashed over my hand. I kept playing with her as she came, then escaped her thighs and settled next to her.

"Please, sir, may I have another?" she croaked.

I spread her legs and slotted my cockhead just barely inside her pussy lips. And stopped, totally still. 

At first she lay quietly, waiting, but I remained completely still. She opened her eyes and looked questioningly at me, but I kept my expression as bland as I could.

Her first pulse was weak, I barely felt it. The second one was stronger but I was able to remain impassive. 

Suddenly she lurched forward and had about three inches of my cock inside her. She clenched her legs around my waist and swung her hips in a counter-clockwise direction, holding my cock tight with her pussy muscles.

"Gotcha! You'll never get away!"

I couldn't stroke, but I could push in. I started forward but she scooted back. I thrust harder and she retreated. I thrust again and she hit the headboard. By now I was on my hands above her. Determined, I shoved once more, and she took me completely inside, with her legs still holding me.

"Now you're mine. I'm going to milk you."

"I'm not going to cum, you can't make me."

"Bet?"

"Sure, but I should warn you, I know the names of every king of six European nations, from the thirteenth century onward. I'll be so distracted you'll —" when the first ripple, from the base of my cock to the head, caught my attention.

Gustav. George. Gunther. Uh, Conan. Uh, uh, who cares, I was bluffing anyway. Truth of the matter, I wanted to cum so bad I tried to help her by spasming my cock.

After the third ripple, I lost control. As soon as it started, she dropped her legs and I was free to pump, and I did. "I win! Fuck me, fuck me! Fuck! Fuck! Oh god you feel so good. FUUUUCK!"

I came in technicolor flashes and fell on top of her, then shifted quickly to the side, gasping. She stroked my cheek and kissed my forehead as I drifted in a fog. I slid out and she helpfully licked me clean.

When I woke around seven, there was Lisa, naked, printing eight of the drunken college student images on six pages, cropped, re-arranged, and captioned.

"Perfect timing. You're gonna like this," she said confidently.

"How long have you been up?"

"Four-thirty. I just woke up with the portfolio at the top of my brain. I don't know Photoshop but there's a free program that I do know, so I made copies of your images and I've been playing with them ever since."

Never tell anyone about the naked portfolio you did with Cindy, especially since she and Lisa know each other. This one could go on public display. She's gotten the interplay of the images and the words flow across the pages seamlessly. She's made a work of art out of what were angry, self-flagellating snapshots.

"It's beautiful," I said, awed.

"Yes it is. Printed larger-scale and on better paper, this is an exhibition at Lit if you want it."

"It doesn't exactly reflect well on Lit, you know that, right?"

"Jerry's an artist who owns a bar. He'll be pleased. If we can get a review that tells the story right, the publicity will be gold."

"Shower?"

As we started for the shower, Lisa spun around, grabbed my flaccid cock, and planted a volcanic kiss on my mouth as she leaned against the desk. She stroked me downward, rolling over the head again and again. As I firmed, she shifted her pussy opening to meet it, fondled my balls, shifted, and had me inside.

"Fuck first," she said, breaking the kiss to husk at me, then went back to sucking my face into hers.

She leaned back on her hands, her hips supported by the desk. I started to stroke and she locked her heels around my calves. I slobbed my thumb and felt for her clit, which quickly came out as I pumped.

"Yes! God, so good, harder, squeeze it a little, there, yes, keep fucking, do two things at once, yes, oh god, yesssss," and her muscles grabbed my cock just as I pulled back, exaggerating her tightness and pushing me over the edge, banging her pubic bone against mine.

"Cumming!" I yelled. "I'm cumming, oh god I'm cummmmming!" As I finished, I grabbed her hips and pulled her tight into me, to slow our crashing.

"NO! Finish me! I'm almost there! Yes, yes, oh yesssss!" as I pushed in again and again. Finally she stiffened, then slowed, and sagged backwards.

I summoned every bit of consciousness I could to lift her, stagger backwards to the bed, and collapse with her on top.

"That was fun," I said as she fluttered her eyes open. She kissed me lightly. 

"Oh yeah, I like it that way, you do most of the work and I get my clit played with."

Then we did shower, both randy enough for another romp. 

"You're off today, right?"

"Yeah, free day, don't have to go in till six tomorrow."

"Wanta —"

"Can't. I'm closing in on three projects. If they all come together, I may have a book. I've gotta stay focused." She kissed me.

"This may be my breakthrough summer."

*

Marilyn was at her desk, chortling as she responded to three angry emails complaining about not being selected for the study.

"Maybe we offered too much money. These guys probably wouldn't be this angry if the pay was 25 bucks.

"We have 102 appointments as of this morning," I reported, "and it isn't even 10 o'clock."

"Still going to start the interviews on Wednesday?"

"Yeah. We have four so far, I guess we'll keep Anna busy."

"After a while it's just another job. She and Don were thinking about hiring a second interviewer. I mean, a hundred and fifty times, reading the same script. You should pay attention, see if you can get the technique of asking the questions. It's an art."

I hadn't thought about that. I knew I had to be around, to be sure the equipment didn't malfunction, but I figured I'd read or sort pictures or something on my own laptop while the interview progressed.

The lab was fine, nothing disturbed. I don't know what I was afraid of, theft or vandalism, but it hadn't happened. I put blank copies of the release form and the receipts for the money in the drawer.

*

Amanda looked up and smiled as I approached her desk. 

"Troy told me you came by yesterday. Hey Mindy, is it okay if I take my break?"

"Don't be too long, the hordes are descending."

At our conspiratorial table, it was all business. 

"I get it that Margery wants to have the club full by the start of the semester," she said. "But I don't think a few vacancies is much of a problem, unless it skews one way or the other. I've been involved with Ruth for four years now and I can't remember when the first month wasn't ragged. But it always worked out.

"Ruth and I are social workers, you and Margery are managers, Not a bad combination, but different.

"As far as the three we're working with, I'm certain they'll be thrilled to join when they're asked and understand the situation. So if they show up at the first meeting, get their tests done right away, by the second meeting they can be on the board. I don't see that as a problem. Of course it does mean that they won't be getting laid this summer, but that's no different than they've endured so far.

"You and Margery, and Lisa, I keep forgetting about Lisa, you're friends. Go on picnics, invite people you like, go to concerts, whatever. I don't think I'd insert any of my three into a situation like you have. They're too fragile, too worried about getting hurt.

"Conclusion: take it slow. Have fun this summer. The club'll be fine."

*

The campus was almost normal, awash with students, except they were younger. Four times I was stopped by kids I'd swear were eleven or twelve — how do I get to Taylor Hall? Carpenter? The union?

The special program kids really did travel in herds. Their leaders had maps and took the obvious routes to their destinations, not yet knowing the shortcuts. I got some great shots of a leader asking someone for directions while the kids gawked around them.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 11



"Is this seat taken?" The food court had barely opened.

She looked up from her plate. "No, help yourself." She returned to eating her dinner.

"I'm Carl. You here for the summer?"

"Yeah." Forkful of food.

"What program?"

"Music." Another forkful of food.

"Great! Sing? Play?"

"Play." Yet another forkful of food.

What instrument?"

"Mandolin and guitar."

"Folk? Classical?"

She gave me an appraising look. "Both, actually," she said, putting down her fork. 

"That what you're majoring in?"

"No, English Lit."

"Is there a connection?"

"Not really. For fun, I sing and play in a folk music group. I've always played the guitar and lately I've taken up the mandolin. I've gotten into playing pretty deeply, and I want to sharpen my skills."

"You've never been here before?"

"Never. My stuff and I got here on Sunday afternoon. I spent the rest of the day getting settled and figuring out the one thing I needed to know, which was how to get to Carpenter this morning."

"Then you need a tour. May I?"

She hesitated for half an instant "Sure."

Only when we had pushed our chairs back did we realize that neither one of us had finished our food. "Maybe we should finish eating first."

"Oh, yes, right.

"And I forgot my manners. You introduced yourself, Carl. I'm Martha."

For two hours we walked the campus. She had a map and checked off various locations. I snapped lots of pictures and showed her the athletic facilities, every dorm, and the library. We finished at Lit and I ordered beers.

"What are you studying?" she asked as she settled into her chair.

"I've finished my sophomore year and decided on psychology. This summer I'm working for a psych professor, on a research project. We start the interviews on Wednesday."

"Is that the one I saw an advertisement for? Where they pay a $150 for an hour interview?"

"Yup, that's us."

"We were talking about it after class, nobody knew anything, the ad's not very specific. What's with the mystery?"

"I didn't think we were mysterious."

"Well, sure you are. If somebody offers me 150 bucks for an hour of my time, I think something's up. Since it's university-sponsored, it's probably not illegal or dangerous, but who pays that kind of money per hour?"

"The project is on a tight schedule. If we paid just average, we might not get enough people, and the project would fail. So Professor Draper decided to put up a big number. We've gotten way more responses than we need, so we can complete the interviews in five weeks, six at the most."

We finished our beers and the waiter popped up.

"More than one beer and I'm not sure what country I'm in. I'm gonna switch to iced tea," I said. "What would you like?"

"Iced tea would be nice, thanks."

As we sipped our drinks, I placed my camera on the table.

"How long have you been taking pictures?"

"It seems like forever, but really only since tenth grade. I started out with weird things, stuff that repelled most people, me included, but I never let on. 

"Gradually I started to take interesting pictures. When I got here I found out about photojournalism and people like Margaret Bourke-White and Walker Evans."

I changed the subject. "Is your class gonna do any public performances?"

"The instructor says it's the best way to learn, but we only met for the first time this morning. I hope so, I want to see how I stack up against the others. They're pretty good."

Without being asked, the waiter brought the check — they wanted to close up.

We walked to her dorm and into the lounge.

"Will you show me your mandolin?"

She smiled. "It's in my locker at the studio. Come over some time."

I handed her my cell. "Call yourself, we'll have each other's number." She took it, dialed, and her cell chirped. 

"Thanks for the tour, Carl." She took my hand, shook it, and strode to the elevator.

*

The 82 pictures were pretty good. Of the 16 that included her, five had characteristics I liked. She had an easy way in front of the camera, unself-conscious even when she had to know I was pointing it at her.

Her Facebook page was more complicated than most. It had the usual personal stuff, but most of the pictures were of her musical group. There was a link to her group's fan page, which had dozens of pictures of groups of old people and kids at summer camps. There was even a video of the five of them talking about their music. Their fan page had more than 100 names. I signed up.

Her status was "in a relationship."

Two of my pictures would be fine as her main picture, but neither of them said anything about her. Two others showed her breasts thrust forward in a way that stirred my loins when I focused on them.

The best masturbation happens when you cum with a particular girl in mind. Martha's tallish, outgoing, interested in herself, has long hair, a nice smile, good laugh, and is interested in what you do.

Was she interested in me? Didn't invite me up. Remember, 3-date rule.

*

After my morning shower, I checked the log and there were now a 141 appointments. I sent out reminders to the Wednesday appointments and, after ten, called the phone numbers they'd given us, as another reminder. None of the nine non-responses would be difficult to replace.

Call Martha? That might seem too interested. But aren't you? Maybe Kate is still interested. It's nearly lunch time, she's probably finished with her classes. How do you know? All you really know is that she's getting an early start on freshman year and that you'd really like to fuck her again. Crap.

Marilyn had the envelopes with the cash to pay the next three days worth of interviews. I decided on lunch at the union. There was a large sign on an easel at the entrance:

MUSIC AT NOON. Every Friday. This Week FOLK AND BLUEGRASS with Guitar and Mandolin.

As I stood there wondering whether I was psychic, my cell rang

"You psychic?"

"Nice to hear your voice too, Martha," I cracked. "What makes you think that?"

"Charlie told us that we had to concentrate on six pieces, because he had booked us for a program at the student union on Friday. It's the first in a series the music department's doing."

"I'm standing in front of the sign right now. They didn't give you a lot of warning."

"Yeah. Sometimes at home, we would get a call to sing at a senior-citizen group and we'd have a quick rehearsal. Same thing, I guess, musicians work under pressure all the time."

"Okay, I'll be there. Can I be the official photographer?"

"I was hoping you'd volunteer. Yes, please."

*

I googled the teacher. Charlie Waddington was pretty well known, had been an artist-in-residence at three universities, toured with over 15 bands, and was in 16 YouTube videos, although he was front-and-center in only three. His Facebook page described his relationship status as "complicated." Most of his links were to things I'd already seen through Google. He didn't have a fan page.

*

The first interview was scheduled for nine. By 8:45 I was at the lab, checking the equipment one last time, fussing with the papers in my desk. I put the pay envelopes in the cash box and locked it in the center drawer.

Anna was stoked.

"Good morning! You look bright-eyed. Get laid last night?"

I blushed as bright red as I ever had. "Uh, well, no, I mean —"

"Just teasing, Carl. C'mon," and she walked into the interview room where she spread her script out.

"Okay, here's the drill. Subject appears at your door, you welcome him, check the paperwork. Then you knock on my door, I say 'come in,' you open the door and usher him inside, then follow.

"I tell him what's going to happen, show him the camera and introduce you as the guy who's gonna record the session from behind the glass. You leave, tap on the window when you're ready, and we begin. When we're done, you meet him out front and pay him. Okay?"

"Got it."

At precisely nine a tall guy opened the door. "This the interview place?"

"Sure is," I said. "C'mon in, sit down. You got the form?" I scanned it for completeness, checked his student ID, and told him he'd get paid after the interview.

I stood up and knocked on Anna's door. "Come in," she said, and I waved him into the room.

Forty-two minutes later we had our first interview in the can. I hustled to the front room, gave him the receipt to sign, and pulled out the cash box. He handed me the receipt, I gave him the envelope with the money, and he turned to go.

"Count it before you leave," I called.

"Why? You're the university, you won't cheat me."

"You just signed a form saying you got $150 from me. Suppose we made a mistake?" He counted the eight bills, grinned, and left.

The ten- and eleven-o'clock interviews went just as smoothly. We had an hour for lunch, so we went over to the union.

"How do you keep your voice so even? I mean, 40 minutes of the same tone, doesn't vary."

"Practice, practice. By next week I'll be sick of the script. It's like being an actor, every show you're supposed to deliver the lines in the same way. But after a while you start doing things just a little differently, just to keep it interesting to yourself. Watch, see how I slip in little changes."

The rest of the day's interviews went well. So did Thursday's. I realized that, after Friday's interviews, we'd have almost ten percent of the whole project done.

Friday's schedule was ragged, with interviews at nine and eleven, followed by two and four. When Anna arrived, I told her about my photo session for noon.

"You wanna cut out early? I can speed up the questions and pay the kid. Who's the girl?"

The color rose in my cheeks.

"Nobody. I mean, I only met her once, she's in the group that's playing the lunchtime music."

"Ooooo, showbiz chicks are easy."

The setup crew had finished by the time I arrived. This side of the large cafeteria had a raised platform and a permanent sound system. I figured that the din from the rest of the room would drown out the music if you weren't sitting within 20 feet of the stage, at one of the tables they'd arranged, so I took a seat at the front just off center, after checking how they'd arranged the lights and the stools.

What looked like an intern from the university's public relations office was passing out a press release, which showed the complete program. She probably thought I was the press because my camera was slung around my neck.

I'd decided to bring this particular camera because I had no idea how they would light the stage. With a mixture of fluorescents and incandescent, who knew what quality I'd get out of the smaller camera?

At exactly noon, six students and what had to be Waddington walked onto the stage and perched on stools, to the polite applause of the nine of us who noticed.

"Thank you for coming," Waddington's Southern-accented voice boomed from the speakers. There was a noticeable drop in background noise. 

"Welcome to the Department of Music's first weekly free student concert. 

"Today we're featuring folk, bluegrass, and classical music for the mandolin and guitar, played and sung by students of these instruments. Francis, Evan, Helen, Janice, Martha, and Mike are accomplished musicians on one or both of these instruments.

"You're going to hear some songs you may recognize and some that will be new to you. We'll start with Bill Monroe's 'Blue Moon of Kentucky,' which he performed so often on the mandolin."

It started slow, with Evan playing and singing, accompanied by Francis. Then they upped the pace and the other four jumping in. At the end, the applause came from a lot more than nine people, because a couple dozen had moved into the nearby tables.

"And now for something completely different. This next piece is a Vivaldi concerto for two mandolins," played by Helen and Mike.

Mike followed, playing and singing a mandolin version of "Finnegan's Wake," which really perked up the crowd. There was a lot of chair- and table-scrapping after he finished. I looked over my shoulder and there must have been 50 people at the tables.

Janice and Martha played "Serenata Napilitana," something that sounded a little like music for the "Godfather." 

Martha was replaced by Helen and she and Janice played an adaptation of a Mozart piano concerto. "This is a very fast-paced version," Waddington introduced, "designed to show off these two players' incredible skills with their instruments."

When they finished, Martha stepped through the applause with two guitars and handed one to Waddington. 

"Alright, our time's almost up. You probably know this one," and they launched into a rousing version of Johnny Cash's "Tennessee Flat-Topped Box," taking turns playing and singing as they went. The applause was serious.

"Thanks very much," he said. "Isn't she great?" and he gestured to Martha, who stepped forward, beaming. She curtsied as the applause continued. Eventually everyone exited stage right.

But the audience wouldn't stop clapping, so after a decent interval the players came back onto the stage.

"We only prepared six songs," he said, "so we've decided to improvise from the grab bag that each of us carries around in our heads. Let's call this 'Jam for Mandolin and Guitar.' " 

They played together for a minute or so, then each one did about 30 seconds on their own before passing the lead on. The crowd hollered and whistled, but that was the end.

I rushed the stage to congratulate Martha. "You were great! I had no idea the mandolin was so versatile." She introduced me to the others, and to "Charlie." 

"You're the mysterious psychological researcher and official photographer we've heard about," he smiled, offering his hand.

"Just a normal guy with an outsized budget," I said, looking him in the eye and shaking his hand firmly. 

"You guys were great! I took probably 100 photos. I'll email you when I've had a chance to look them over. Can you give me your email address?" He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to me.

The players were starting to leave when I reached Martha again. 

"Can we have dinner tonight? This was really fun."

"We finished our last rehearsal at eleven this morning and then came here. We're pretty strung out and I at least am famished. We'll probably do a post-mortem after lunch, then I'll be ready to do something else, so sure."

"Great! I'll call you around five-thirty."

Anna wanted details. I still had the press release and she scanned it, then whistled. 

"They play all this on mandolins? They're such tinny things."

"The instructor apparently has an ear for what the instruments can do. He must have converted the Mozart and Vivaldi for mandolins, it certainly didn't sound like what I expected. It was really interesting."

"And the girl?"

By now I was prepared. "She played the mandolin and the guitar, sang a duet with the instructor at the end, 'Tennessee Flat-Top Box.' It was a lot different than straight Johnny Cash." Anna smiled.

I clicked back into the job. "Thanks for letting me skip out. I hope you didn't have any trouble with him."

"You're welcome. He wasn't a problem. This project is going as smooth as any I've been involved in."

In the hour between the two o'clock and the four o'clock interviews, I called the Italian place up the river and made a reservation for 7:30. It was getting hot again and I wanted the breeze and the sounds of the river.

The 15-minute walk from Ruth's house to my apartment was getting longer and longer, so I called the landlord to see if I could park in one of the spaces behind the building. After agreeing to pay him $50, I had a reserved spot through the end of August.

Marilyn had the envelopes for the first three days of next week. "It's a lot of money, don't run off to Brazil with your girlfriend," she teased.

"You're the only one I'd take that big a risk for," I teased back.

*

"Slight dress code," I told Martha. "Slacks or skirt and blouse. Is that okay?"

"Fine. See you at seven."

*

Second date, right? Or does the concert count as number two? Did you notice a spark between her and Charlie? Are we feeling competitive?

*

"What did you think of the concert?" she asked as we drove north.

"It was great, but it was also strange, hearing something you knew, played in a way you don't expect. And boy can you can sing! You two really belted it out."

"I have never practiced so hard, ever! At home we'd meet weekly, go over the stuff we always sang, maybe try something new Michael thought we could do. If we were together two hours it was a lot, because two of our members went to another school. Since it was usually a month between gigs, we were pretty polished anyway.

"But this was intense! Charlie asked us what songs we already knew. Everybody knew the Vivaldi and Mozart, which blew me away. It's all over YouTube, we'd all watched it. Evan and Francis are deep into bluegrass, so they picked the Bill Monroe piece they liked best. And Mike plays 'Finnegan's Wake' regularly.

"Wednesday and Thursday mornings were intense. After lunch on Thursday we did a full run-through, then broke for dinner, then jammed because he figured there'd be an encore. Janice and I must have played the serenata ten times. 

"Charlie said he and I should do the flat-top box because my voice fits with his, which I didn't get at first but everybody else thought was great. We didn't decide what would go first until this morning. Evan was so nervous, but he figured 'do or die' and wanted to get it over with."

You know enough about music to change a CD. It doesn't kill you to listen to contemporary bluegrass and oldies like the Beatles. Being raised a boring Episcopalian means your head is stuffed with choral music. Who knew there were accompanists? You really have lived a sheltered life.

Dinner was terrific. The impending heatwave had generated winds that pushed the gnats away, so we ate unbothered, to the sound of the river rushing by. Afterwards, we walked to a waterside bench.

"Charlie says I've got a good folk music voice. He says it's surprising how many singers can't accompany themselves, they can't handle the complexity. It just seems so natural to me.

"Everybody had a great time. Three of them had never performed publically in a group. Charlie is going to see if we can't do it again. The music department is committed to a show every Friday till the end of the summer, but he says the vocal music program might like some accompanists. We'd all like to do another full program on our own, though."

"The official photographer reports that he has no idea whether the pictures are any good, since he didn't have a chance to look at them. Do you want to go through them?"

"Sure. When?"

"How's now?"

*

After turning on the air conditioner, I downloaded the 103 photos, gave Martha my chair, and sat on the end of the bed and watched as she flipped through them. As always there were clunkers, duplicates, boring or obvious shots, but there were 20 that were worthwhile. 

For some reason, half of them involved her.

I was disconcerted that probably the best shot was of her looking soulfully at Charlie as they sang. The expression on his face wasn't much, but she looked radiant. There was at least one passable shot of everyone and two good ones of the group, during the encore. I was very self-impressed.

It was after 11 when we finished culling the photos and marking the ones for uploading to Flickr. 

Martha pushed back the chair and stood.

"You have anything doing tomorrow?" I asked.

"No, do —" but she couldn't finish the sentence because I was on her mouth, kissing her.

She kissed back.

"Stay with me tonight?"

"I, I, I shouldn't."

"But you can?"

"Yes, I can, no one is waiting for me. Carl, can we talk?"




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 11



My cock was unhappy with the delay, but all was not lost. We sat on the edge of the bed, our feet on the floor.

"It's not just a musical group for me. You know that, right?"

"I saw the video. You and the guy, Michael, did look like a couple."

"We started out in choir, at church. Gradually he and I became close, since we sang together, a lot. We'd stay after choir or after practice and make out.

"We finally did it, the summer after our junior year, in the kindergarten classroom, on the play mats. I got on the pill and we did it as often as we could, wherever we could, but mostly it was in the church.

"We decided to go to the same college. Once we got there we jumped into bed and stayed there. It was the first time we'd actually slept in bed together.

"My poor roommate! Jill was a good sport about it, but she spent the first two nights of her college career sleeping in the common room. The RA put her foot down the morning after the second night, so we moved to Michael's room and chased his roommate out. We did it at night, during the day, every chance we got. It was glorious!

"We had a great freshman year. We sang together, we studied together, we sleep together. We formed a quartet and Michael got us a couple of bookings.

"But things got bumpy this spring. We've decided to spend this summer apart, see other people."

"Like me?"

"Yes, like you." 

She leaned back as I kissed her. I sucked on her lower lip and she sucked my tongue into her mouth. Rolling her on top, I adjusted my erection to fit against her. She was fine with my sliding my hands down the back of her pants and under her panties. She ground into my erection and wielded her tongue combatively.

We broke for air and she slid off me, extended her hand, and swung me upright. We faced each other, chests heaving.

"Nice shirt," she said, unbuttoning it. 

"Nice blouse," I replied as I unbuttoned it.

Kneeling before her, I drew her slacks and panties down and off while she shucked her bra. Her bush was soft, well-trimmed, and smelled ready.

I pulled her hips to me and licked from the bottom of her opening to the top. She shivered and pushed forward. I licked back down and parted her lips with my tongue while I kneaded her ass cheeks. I fluttered my tongue inside her and parted her ass cheeks gently.

As I plunged deeper into her, she stabilized herself with a hand on my shoulder.

My tongue ran to the top and her clit was already out. I sucked it into my mouth as she shoved her pussy hard against me.

We shuffled backwards and she sat on the end of the bed, then laid back and opened her legs. I probed with my tongue and was licking her clit when she started to clamp her thighs together.

Her hips bucked hard against my face and I flicked my tongue around her clit. Her nails bit into my shoulder as I kept my face in her pussy, sucking everything she had into my mouth. Suddenly she stiffened and arched her back, held it for maybe ten seconds as she swung her hips, then sank onto the bed, gasping.

As she recovered, I got rid of my pants and moved beside her.

"That was soooo nice," I said, dreamily.

"And, I take it," she said huskily, stroking my sturdy cock, "that you would like to move on."

"Very much," and we scooted up the bed. I leaned into her and flicked her left nipple with my tongue.

"Okay, let's go," she said, pulling on my cock and opening her legs.

"Condom," I remembered.

"It's okay, I'm on the pill." She pulled me toward her.

"Protection," I croaked as I pulled the drawer open and fumbled for a foil square.

"I'm clean, I've only been with one guy, I know he's clean."

"And so am I, but you have no independent verification. Here," and I handed it to her, "roll it on me."

"I've never —" 

"Best time to learn. Hurry please, I want you so much."

She tore the foil. "Which is the top?" she husked.

"Nipple out. Please hurry!"

I had to fight cumming as she fumbled it over the head. When she finished, I scooted between her legs. 

"Oh god, please, help me inside, god I want you, there yes, oh god, so much, ohhhh." She had pointed me to the right place and I sank halfway in. I pulled back, shuffled forward, pumped once, and we were joined.

"Yesss! Now let's go. Fuck me Martha, please fuck me!" and I stroked a fast pace. She planted her heels on the bed and met me on every stroke. 

"That's it, god yeah, you're so wonderful, I want to make you cum, fuck me, let's cum, oh god, I'm cummming," and on the twelfth stroke I blasted into her.

As I was collapsing, she bucked her hips, hard, and arched her back, deflecting my collapse to one side. I grabbed her as I fell, desperate to keep my cock inside her, and pulled her with me. We fell, still joined, into a sweaty heap.

It was awkward but it was glorious.

Heaving, gasping, I felt her breasts against my chest and her wet pussy pressing against my pubic mass. I pushed into her and she groaned. "No more, please, I can't do it any more."

Our gasping slowed and my cock began softening. I pulled back enough to reach the ring, let my cock slip all the way out, and dumped it in the wastebasket. I rained kisses on her face.

"You are wonderful," I said.

"So are you," she replied. Her eyes were clamped shut.

"Can you look at me? I'm not nearly as ugly since they amputated the horn."

She giggled and fluttered her eyelids. "There," I said, and kissed the end of her nose. 

She heaved a big sigh. "You are such a gentleman. I've never used one, Michael and I — oh damn it," and she closed her eyes again.

I held her as she sobbed in silence. When she stopped, I kissed both eyelids, then her cheek. "Okay?"

"Forgive me, it's kind of emotional, that's all. I'll get over it."

"Can you tell me?"

"It's so stupid, such a cliché."

"Most of the pictures I take are clichés. Talk to me."

She let out a deep sigh.

"A couple of months ago we started arguing. Silly things, I wasn't hitting the right notes consistently, I wasn't standing in the right place. He thought he should try working with the other girl in the group. When I objected, he accused me of being jealous for no reason. 

"One night we fought and I didn't speak to him for three days. When I finally answered my cell, he begged me to take him back.

"After we made love, we fought again. He wanted to do it in my ass. He'd never even mentioned this before! I thought it sounded icky, but he said it was erotic. He said that Edie, the other girl in our group, did it with her boyfriend and she liked it a lot. 

"I've never talked about sex with anyone but Michael. I was shocked that he would have had this sort of a conversation with another girl.

"We had a screaming fight and I threw him out. I wouldn't answer the phone. I called the campus police when he started following me. He sent roses to one of my classes and I made a big deal of throwing them out the window.

"Finally Jill confronted me. The story of our fight and what I'd said to him was all over the dorm. I spilled it all and she said I at least had to talk to him. 'You look like shit, bags under your eyes, your complexion's crap. Talk to him, make him talk to you about your relationship.'

"He wouldn't admit that he was seeing her, and I hadn't been able to catch him with anyone the couple of times I'd hid near his dorm in the early morning and waited for her.

"He said there wasn't anything wrong with us, that I was being emotional over nothing. We went back and forth and finally I realized I needed some time to think about things — I couldn't very well do it in bed with him. 

"So we decided to take the summer off from each other. We'd both planned on working for his uncle's company, but I called and told them I couldn't take the job. 

"I found out about this program on one of the mandolin websites. They had room, so here I am, in bed with a guy I've known face-to-face for what, seven hours?" She looked abashed but unembarrassed.

I kissed her.

"You have more guts than I do," I said. "I don't know if I could do what you've done. We're here, it's now, okay?"

:Okay."

"So let's get personal. We need to pee." I bounced up, extended my hand to swing her to her feet, and led her to the bathroom. "Ladies before gentlemen," I said, waving toward the toilet.

When I showed no sign of leaving the room, she started to stand. 

"Nope, lovers are intimate. We're lovers, let's be intimate. You wanna hold my cock while I pee?"

"I've never, we didn't —" and a cloud crossed her face. 

"C'mon, let's get on with the rest of your life. Here," and I swung her up, lifted the seat, and moved in front of the bowl. 

"Point me in the right direction," I said as I put her hand on my slippery, flaccid cock.

She hesitated, then closed her fist around it. She missed when I first squirted, but quickly got the stream in the right direction. It was a great pee.

"Okay," I said, 'your turn."

"You gonna hold my hand?"

"No, and I'm not gonna stare. I just want us comfortable around each other in any situation." I washed my cock off as she peed, and we went back to bed.

She checked the clock. "God, it's after one."

"You need to be anywhere tomorrow?"

"How about right here?"

I kissed her, hard. "Thank you. We can fuck till we're too sore to move." She flinched as I said "fuck."

"Did I say something wrong?"

"We, uh, we didn't use that word, it's coarse."

"What did you use as an active verb?"

"We use 'make love.' "

"Fuck him!" 

She flinched again. 

"Martha, I am not a crude guy, but no word is so precise as 'fuck.' Please say it, please say fuck."

"Fuck." Flatly, with zero enthusiasm.

"Say 'fuck you.' "

"To you?"

"Don't tell me who, just say it."

"Fuck you."

"Great! You wanna fuck?"

"No, I wanna go to sleep. With you. I am exhausted, it has been a very long day.

"But tomorrow, you'll regret having me around." We spooned and fell asleep.

*

I'll never tire of wake-up blowjobs. It was after nine when I felt my cock being fondly attended to by someone. It was probably Martha but I couldn't tell because whoever it was, was curled on my right hip, sucking me, her ass cheeks on full display. I patted both cheeks and it was Martha who looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Like it?"

"How could I not? You've got me pretty hard. Ooooo, VERY hard," I said as she rolled her circled wet fingers over my cockhead, then down again. She was jacking me slowly and I was getting pretty excited.

"I'm gonna try finishing you in my mouth," she said as she kept up the light jacking. "Don't be mad if I chicken out, though."

"I'll love it either way, but I do like the idea of cumming in your mouth. I'll tell you when I'm close. Oh godddd, I'm getting there already. Get it about halfway back. Keep a seal with your lips and swallow when you feel it starting."

" 'kay," she smiled and went back to stroking.

She was doing just fine, jacking and occasionally sucking. Michael was good for something, I guess.

"I'm close, Martha. Oh god, so close, close, oh yes, I'm gonna cum, here it comes Oh yeah —" and I arched my back and began blasting.

"AAAAACK!"

She fled my cock and the cum flew past her face and on to my belly. She kept jacking as I spurted the second, third, and fourth rounds, but she had retreated to a safe distance.

And she was crying.

I pulled her on top of me and held her, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. Her sobs receded slowly.

"I love making Michael cum in the morning," she sniffled. "But I could never do it with my mouth. We used baby oil for lubrication and baby wipes to clean up with. I'm sorry, I just couldn't do it."

"That's okay. Here, do you want to spit it out?" I offered her the end of the sheet.

"No, it's gone. I had it just where you said when it started. When I panicked I must have swallowed it."

"Kiss me."

"No, it's —"

"It's fine. Kiss me." And she did, tentatively, but I persisted, and soon we were starting to make out. She broke the kiss.

"What we really need is a shower. It's all over us."

We soaped each other, touching and playing. She washed my cock, I did her pussy. She reluctantly let me do her asshole. She scrubbed my back and chest vigorously, while I was much gentler with her breasts.

We dried each other and I started to suck her nipples.

"Food," she said, "remember food? It's almost eleven. C'mon, what've you got in the kitchen?"

"Cheerios."

"Booor-ing. Get dressed, you're taking me to brunch."

Mebbie's was busy, but we got a table after a ten-minute wait. 

"Energy food, you're gonna need your strength," she leered. She pushed the orange juice — "keep your potassium level up."

*

We undressed slowly. The daylight was very kind to her.

Of course I'd seen her shoulder-length hair, and we'd zoomed in on her face and blue eyes when we were looking at the concert photos. 

What I hadn't seen in daylight was the sum of her naked parts. I knew she was barely shorter than me, with nice breasts. Now I saw that her torso was on the bigger side of mesomorphic. Her broad shoulders topped a chest that supported two medium-sized breasts with big nipples. I'd noticed her neat bush when I ate her last night, and now I saw that her pussy lips were discreetly visible, and glistening.

"Please, turn around," I croaked as I moistened my suddenly dry lips.

Her wide hips supported two big cheeks. From behind I saw this wisp of pussy hair. I lusted to get my barber scissors on them.

I was hard. And she was blushing.

"I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No, no, I, uh, I, I'm not used to anyone but Mich — being looked at this way . . ."

"I apologize for staring. You're beautiful."

"Thank you."

We slid under the sheets and I got a condom from the drawer.

"Can we do cowgirl? I want to stroke in and out, make you cum with my thumb, suck your nipples." I got harder with every syllable.

"You say the sweetest things."

"Make me ready, lover."

She tore open the foil, rolled it on me, and mounted me. I was less than a third of the way in when she stopped, a puzzled look on her face.

"Too dry, I think," she concluded. 

"Probably. You'll have to lube me up. Use your mouth."

"I can't, I told you, I don't —" 

"I'm encased in latex, I couldn't cum in your mouth if I wanted to. Okay, let's try this: wet your fingers, like you usually do, right?" It took a little while, but I didn't go soft with the attention she was paying my cock. Finally I was hard and wet.

She re-mounted and started a back-and-forth motion.

"This is how cowgirls ride. Foxhunters post," and she rode up and down. "Any preferences?"

"I want maximum access to your clit, so foxhunter," and I slobbed my fingers and moved in.

We started slowly, adjusting as we went. From time to time I felt her squeeze my cock with her muscles. I tried to catch her eyes but they were closed.

I got her clit out and knew I was working it pretty good, because her breathing became ragged. She shifted to bouncing and I slammed into her, flailing her clit with my thumb. She got more excited, squeezing me again and again, huffing and puffing.

Suddenly she stiffened, flapped her arms, and began violently fucking my cock. She put her hands on her hips and was twirling her hips when she jerked, twice, then slowly fell onto my chest.

As she fell, I started to cum. I arched myself up and we collided. I held her as I bucked.

"It's cumming, oh god I'm cumming, fuck me hard, fuuuuck, Fuck Fuck FUUUUUCK!" and I shot into her. When I was done we were one sweaty package, tangled on the bed.

And she was crying.

I rolled us onto our sides and kissed and stroked and coo-ed and licked and — nothing stopped her wracking sobs. I was helpless to do anything but hold her shaking body.

My cock softened and I slid out. Luckily, the condom came with it.

It'll make a mess. Who cares? What did you do?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me, I'm so sorry," she croaked, rolling away from me, sniffling.

I stroked the fine hairs on her belly and waited.

"He's still there, the bastard's still there! I'm never going to get rid of him!"

I waited, still playing with her belly.

"He won't go away! I looked down at you and I saw him! You have the same expression when you cum, you look like you're in pain."

"Is that why you close your eyes?"

"When we got to college and were alone as much as we wanted, he told me it scared him the way I looked when I was orgasming. He said he always closed his eyes but when he peeked out he saw the look on my face and it frightened him. I told him that he looked like was in pain and that I was afraid I was hurting him. We decided we should keep our eyes closed when we made, when we made love."

I kissed her forehead.

"You don't have to any more," I said. 

"I know, that's why I peeked. But it was hiiiiiiim!" and she started to cry again.

I stroked her cheek, kissed her forehead, and went back to her belly as her tears slowed, then stopped. She sniffled.

"You're so talkative when we make, when we fuck. Do you always do that?"

"When I got here I had this single room and the guys on both sides had girl after girl sleeping with them. They fucked at all hours of the night and even during the day. They screamed all the time. I cried myself to sleep I don't know how often because I wanted to be doing that. 

"When I finally had sex, I wanted to tell her how happy I was with what we were doing. She encouraged me and I guess I'm a little expressive. I want to know that I'm giving you pleasure, and I want to tell you what is giving me pleasure."

"Michael — damn, why is he doing this! — he said we should make love quietly. He said it was our world, no one had the right to know about it. We could hear couples screaming, but we thought they were show-offs, exhibitionists.

"I think I'm too locked in, too inhibited, ever be able to let go."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes. Do you know you squeak when you start to cum? I heard it this morning, when I woke you up, and just now again."

She kissed me softly.

"I know I can't be part of 'Michael and Martha' any more. I don't know how I'm going to get away, and that scares me. But it's been three weeks and I'm starting to feel free. But there's a bad part of freedom, no moorings, just alone. 

"You opened the door. Thank you." She kissed me and took my shriveled cock in her hand.

"Now make love to me like you mean it."

I butterflied my tongue behind her knee, then moved up her inner thigh to the V of her crotch and across to her wet pussy lips. She moaned encouragement as I spread her legs and she wiggled her ass a little as I flicked up and down her opening. When my head came within range, she tangled her fingers in my hair.

When I got to the top, her clit was out. I sucked it into my mouth and pushed it softly against my teeth. I let it go and lapped around her opening again, sliding my tongue into her and fluttering, which got me some more wiggles. When I got to her clit again, I pressed it hard against my teeth and she jerked and moaned. 

Success!

I worked my way across the sweet soft hairs of her belly as she played with my hair. I circled her navel with my tongue, dipped into it, and blew. 

BLAAAT!

"EEEEECK!" she squealed as she practically levitated off the bed. Only her grip on my hair kept her from hitting the ceiling. 

I couldn't help myself. 

"Gotcha!" I exulted.

"Y-y-yes," she replied, distantly.

She settled back and I kissed her, softly. Then I made my way back to her clit across the downy field of her belly, slid my tongue into her opening again, then up to her clit. I took it between my lips and tongued it head. She jerked against my face so hard I nearly bit it.

I was really hard and wanted to fuck. She seemed ready enough so I shifted up to her face and we fought the tongue fight. I slipped my finger into her pussy and stroked her clit, loving the feeling of her wetness. She pushed against my finger and I heard this moan from deep in her chest. Her eyes were clenched shut but she was pulling my head into her by my hair.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 11



"Now," I said, stretching for the condom. I moved between her legs, ripped the foil open and rolled it on. I slobbed my fingers, lubed myself up, and moved in.

She met the cockhead with one thrust, squeezed it with her muscles, humped against my thrust, and our pubic bones collided.

I began pistoning, skipping the slow strokes. She met me stroke for stroke and swung her hips to encourage my cock. Her eyes were clamped shut.

She pulled me to her chest and hooked her legs around my waist, and began crashing against me. She had to be ready to cum. Still her eyes were shut.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm — oh god, YOU'RE MAKING ME CUUUUM!!" I yelled, and she squeezed my cock with her pussy, again and again.

There were long spurts of animal lust as I pounded her as hard as I had ever pounded anyone. She gave me slam for slam, but the only sound besides my yelling was the slap of our bellies.

Just as my blasting subsided, she stiffened, pushed up hard against me, and grabbed me with her arms, her legs, and her pussy muscles, and swung her hips for maximum effect on my cock in her pussy. 

If she had an orgasm, it was a silent one. And when she let go of me and fell silently to the bed, her eyes still clenched, she was still gripping my cock with her pussy.

I fell on top of her, then shifted to the side, but her pussy kept its lock on my cock, so we rolled together. We were face-to-face when her eyes fluttered, then blinked open.

"It IS you, not him," and she relaxed her pussy muscles. She smiled radiantly, grabbed my face, and shoved her tongue into me. When we broke, she was still smiling.

"That was a wonderful fuck."

*

She decided to redo her Facebook page. I left her alone while I cleaned the bathroom (which needed it after last night's bowl miss) and made a shopping list (milk and lubricated condoms).

As I was finishing, she called me to look at her new page.

While she hadn't swept away Michael and Martha, the group was now just one of several activities she listed. Now she highlighted her musical interests and featured her current enrollment at a special four-week intensive course in mandolin and guitar. She swapped her old photo for one I'd taken Friday and added several more from that concert.

She changed her status from "in a relationship" to "single."

"The new me," she said.

"New and improved," I said, and she grinned. "But is she still as good in bed as the old version?" I stood and reached for her.

"You'll find out after you feed me, and I don't mean cheerios," she retorted, slapping my hand away from her breasts.

We went to her dorm so she could exchange her slacks and blouse for jeans and a t-shirt. I snuck behind her and fondled her breasts when she raised her arms for the t-shirt, and she bucked her ass into my crotch hard enough to push me away. I took her up to the lab and showed her the installation. She gigglingly repulsed my attempt to make out on the table, but did give my cock a friendly squeeze.

We were lucky and got seated at Lit right away. It was Lisa's area.

"Hi guys, what can I g — oh, hi Carl. How've you been?"

"Great. Steady work agrees with me. This is Martha. Martha, this is Lisa, she's going to be the next Great American Novelist." Lisa smiled tolerantly.

"I know you're busy, but Martha here was part of the group that did the lunchtime concert at the union yesterday. They were really good. Do you think Lit would be interested in having them perform?"

"We heard about that. Jerry was wondering how to get in touch with you. Here," she said, handing Martha her cell, "call yourself so I'll have your number."

"I'm only a student, Charlie's —"

"That's okay, six degrees of separation and all that. Now," Lisa continued as Martha punched in her number, "the improv starts at eight. Want something to drink? Or food?" I really liked their bleu cheese burger, so I ordered that and a Sprite. Martha went for the Caesar salad and a beer.

The improv was a comedian on tour. He did a couple of established routines, then accepted challenges from the audience. His imitations of Mel Gibson and a couple of politicians were hilarious. I left a big tip.

As we undressed each other, I took a quick suck on a nipple and did my best imitation of puzzlement.

"Last time we were here, there was mention of something better than cheerios, as I recall." 

"Can't distract you with food, eh?"

"Burgers and sex, two basic food groups. Now, as I was saying . . ."

"Yeah. But first you've gonna get hard, then get inside, then I'm gonna do something nobody's ever done to you before."

"I love challenges."

She straddled my hips and jacked me a couple of times to establish my hardness, She stretched for the condom, then rolled it on and lubed it with her mouth, locking her eyes on mine as she did the couple of strokes.

"Now, inside me," and she slid down the full length. She was warm, wet, and had lust in her eyes.

"Alright, here's the challenge.

"I'm gonna sit on the top of your flagpole and not move. I'm betting I can make you cum that way in less than ten minutes. If you can hold out for more than that, you win. For every extra minute you can hold out, you get 1,000 frequent flyer miles."

"I've never been on an airplane. What good are frequent flyer miles?"

"These are MY frequent flyer miles. I'll give you the schedule later. Okay," she said, "here we go."

"Wait! Wait! What do you get if you win?"

"I get to take naked pictures of you and put them on my Facebook page. Now let's go!" 

Lisa pulled this one, and Carol did a version as well. Hopefully you've learned something.

She was leaning over me, her breasts dangling, and I fondled them, tweaked the nipples, and kissed her shoulders. But she was all business as she moved up and down less than an inch, smoothly and without pressure at first. Soon she was twisting around like she was turning a doorknob, softly and liquidly, no pressure. Her eyes were closed, but not clamped shut, and her look was of concentration, not pleasure.

Since this was a surprise, I rummaged through my stock of useless knowledge, trying to think of what to use for distraction. First it was the names of all the major league baseball teams and their cities, then their stadiums, then the same for the NFL. I struggled through the seating arrangements of my homerooms from seventh through twelfth grades.

I was stifling the moan, not wanting to let on to her or myself how much pleasure I was getting, when I felt it.

She had my cock in a vice, but something was stroking it, further inside. It was working the underside, just where the two halves join, and it was warm, so soft, so insistent. The face of Mrs. Smith in tenth grade segued into Ruth McGowan and then —

I arched my back, bucked into her twice, then grabbed her hard against me. I pumped three or four times and blasted everything I had left.

"Oh god, no fair, you're milking me, I'm cumming, god I'm cumming, cuuuuumming, oh FUUUUUCK!"

"Wow, you win," I panted after I came to. "God that was so good."

"Actually you won, twelve minutes. I thought I'd lost you at one point, you zoned out and I really had to work to keep you hard. And your eyes were closed most of the time." She sounded pleased at that.

I rolled the condom off, dumped it in the wastebasket, then pulled her on top of me. We kissed and she ground her pussy onto my slippery cock.

"You were watching me?"

"I snuck a peek. You had this scrunched-up look, very serious. Until you started to cum, it was kind of bland. Then it was that painful expression, and I closed my eyes. But I did hear you squeak."

"La petite mort, the little death. I once set my camera on video for three minutes and recorded myself as I masturbated. It was pretty lame. Can I cash in my miles by photographing you when you come?"

"Kink-ee," she smiled. "Maybe sometime."

We headed to the bathroom and I washed myself. Back in bed, we spooned.

"Tomorrow let's —"

"Tomorrow we make love, you feed me breakfast, and I go off to practice."

"And I never see you again?" I was panicked.

She rolled to face me. "Only if you move to another planet. Seriously, I have a lot to digest. This has been the most liberating experience of my life. You are so different from Michael, not just in bed but in life. But you have to give me time to understand what's happened."

"Oh."

"Not 'oh.' C'mon, Carl, I'm not running away. You are great sex. I think I'm pretty good too. We'll see a lot of each other in the next three weeks." She kissed me, rolled onto her side, and grabbed my cock through her legs. We slept.

*

I'll never tire of wake-up blowjobs. Granted it was a Martha special, that is she was snuggled on my right hip giving me a very liquid jacking, but it had started out warm and I thought I felt her mouth once.

I ran my finger down the crack of her ass, as far as I could go, then wiggled it.

"Eeek!" she squealed, and jumped. 

"Good morning to you too," I said.

"That was unexpected."

"Do you know how beautiful your ass is?"

"No. Tell me." She didn't stop the jacking but she shifted so we were closer to being face-to-face.

"I once photographed a full moon in time lapse. When I printed it, I realized I had a series of girls' asses. I picked the pair that looked almost perfect, and moved one closer to the other. I enlarged them to the full screen, then reduced them, playing to see which I liked. Never did get it right. Not till now."

As I was talking, she slowed her jacking. "No, please, Martha, don't stop, I need it, please don't stop."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to," and she turned back and sped to catch up.

"No, not so fast, you had it perfect before I interrupted you. Oh yes, there, that's nice." She bent to take me in her mouth, bobbed a couple of times, then pulled off. Her jacking speeded up.

"Nice, oh god that's nice, oh Martha, make me cum, now, oh god, you're making me cum, I'm gonna cum, now, yes, yesss, YESSSSS, OH GOD!" I arched my back and fountained three bursts.

She wiped her slick hand on her chest and spread herself across the pool on my belly, then grabbed my face and hit me with a bullet of a kiss.

"I chickened out again, I'm sorry. I thought I could do it, I got close, I'm —"

"Getting closer. That was wonderful. Did I squeak?"

"Oh yeah! Don't you hear it?"

"No, I think I'm somewhere else when it happens. Is it very loud?"

"Not very, but noticeable. Michael never — goddamnit! Sonofabitch! Get outa my head you fucking bastard!" I held her tight as she shuddered, then blew out a big sigh.

"He's never gonna go away," she whimpered.

"It's gotta take more than two days. You guys were everything to each other. Everything you knew about fucking is only because of him. He is your only reference point. As time goes on, I'll be another reference point."

She lay silently, obviously thinking.

"Should we try to stay together?"

"Do you want to?" I asked.

"Truth?"

"Best way." I knew where this was going.

"Truth is, no, I can't." Even though I knew where this conversation was going, I still felt a cold knot in my stomach.

"I think I'm gonna give this performing thing an honest shot. Charlie says I can grow into it if I give playing my undivided attention. My parents will freak out if I drop out of school, but I'm not even nineteen, it's not like I can't devote a couple of years to finding out."

I felt much better.

"Shower time."

The tub was not really designed for eating pussy comfortably, which is what I wanted to do. When we got out I sat her on the toilet seat and spread her legs.

"Bed, nicer," she moaned.

I folded our two bath towels for my knees as she lay back on the edge of the bed. Her pussy was dripping water but was slick inside. I licked up the full length of her slit, fluttered for her clit, and tongued down again.

"Gooood," she said, very softly.

I moved a finger into her and began seriously butterflying her clit. She wiggled her hips and moaned softly. When I got the second finger inside her, she jumped. When I pulled them both out, she grabbed my hand.

"Don't! Stay! Please!"

Shifting to her side, I worked her clit and pussy with two fingers while I sucked a nipple. Her rapid shallow breathing and the start of the pained look on her face told me what was coming.

"Cum Martha, cum for me, cum, cuuuummmm," I crooned, as I nipped the nipple and wiggled my fingers.

"Oohhhhhh." She stiffened, jerked twice, and clamped her legs shut. She thrashed everything she had, her head and hair, her pussy, she arched her back and humped against the palm of my hand as I fluttered my fingers inside her pussy.

She hadn't even settled on the bed when I began raining kisses on her sweaty face. When she fluttered her eyes open I ostentatiously removed my fingers and held them up, then stuck one into my mouth.

"Mmmmmm, tastes good," I leered.

"Can I?"

"You never?" I extended the second finger.

"Oh yeah. Well, sometimes. He likes —" I put up a cautionary hand before she started "— he likes to cuddle after we've made love, I've snuck it a couple of times, but not regularly. We never do oral sex like you do it." She blushed but she took the finger in her mouth and ran her tongue around it, collecting every bit of juice.

Mebbie's was swamped, but two blocks away was another place, and we got a booth. After eggs, bacon, and orange juice, we talked.

"What's on for today?" I asked.

"I am so stoked! I probably reek of sex, but I'm gonna go straight to the studio and practice. Don't care who knows! Ninety minutes or guitar, ninety for mandolin, then gotta learn two pieces for Monday."

"That's a lot of homework for one afternoon."

"Well, it was supposed to be spread out over two days. But I got distracted."

"Can we —"

"Let's play it by ear, Carl. I'll call you after work on Tuesday, okay?"



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 12



Man you are GOOD! From zero to bed in under eight hours!

She's probably with Charlie now, laughing hysterically at how easily you fell for it. Won't say "fuck!" Doesn't emote when she cums! Only ever fucked one guy! — "He lapped it up! Man, is he gullible!"

You'll never see her again. Crap.

I uploaded the 43 best shots from the concert to Flickr and sent a link to Charlie, asking him to tell the others about them. Then I uploaded a different file for Martha of the ones I'd taken with her on Friday night and the originals of the pictures she'd used on her Facebook page. I included a cheery note.

As I stripped the bed, I realized that the sheets really did reek of sex. Condoms keep things neat, but the sweat and the juices leave their scent. 

Simple lubrication, nothing fancy. I bought a box of 48 lubricated condoms and retired the dry ones to the back of my socks drawer.

By two I'd run all my errands and had re-made the bed. Since I'd turned off my cell before I picked up Martha for dinner last night, I wasn't surprised that I had messages.

There were four: Chrissy (reporting that grandma's husband had a small heart attack but was okay, no need to call); and one each from Anna, Margery, and Carrie.

"He's pretty good," said Chrissy when she answered. "They'd gone to bed early and about six-thirty they woke up and were fucking" — she slipped this in so matter-of-factly I almost missed it — "when he grabbed his chest. The ambulance got there real fast. He was in ICU for about six hours, and he's gonna be okay. Dad's really relieved."

I called Dad and got essentially the same information about his mother's husband. Minus the fucking part.

Anna's call was more prosaic: what time is the first interview on Monday. I called and left a voice mail that it's at nine.

Margery had called just after noon, wanting to talk business over dinner tonight. Carrie had called just after Margery, please call back.

"Hi Carrie. Who won the game?"

"We did. I went three-for-four. But that's not why I called."

"What's up?"

"You free for lunch?"

"Sure, but it's after two."

"Doesn't matter. I'll bring wraps. Twenty minutes?"

She strode into the apartment with the food and two bottles of sparkling water, plunked everything down on the coffee table, and planted a volcanic kiss on my face.

"I have an itch that needs scratching," she said, massaging my cock through my shorts when we broke for air.

"Backscratcher's in here," I gasped as we moved to the bedroom.

I pulled her t-shirt up and was presented with a new bra, front-loading, which I popped as she dropped her shorts and panties. As I sucked the nipple of her left breast she worked my zipper down and had everything at my feet as I helpfully pulled my shirt up and off.

"Bed. Now. C'mon!"

She was on her back, legs spread, arms extended, with lust in her eyes as I slobbed my cock and scooted into position. I was in on the second stroke and we started.

"Fuck me, c'mon man, fuck me, I want everything you've got! C'mon now, faster, faster, oh god that's it! Faster! Faster! FASTER! Oh yeah, so good, FASTER, HARDER, YEAHHHHH! OH GODDDDD!"

I was pumping furiously as soon as I entered her. She was the focus of her lust, my cock had no direction but to soak her pussy with everything my balls could deliver. We crashed into each other as she pulled me against her with her steel-band legs and her heels in my ass.

"ARGGG! Oh god I'm cumming, cummmming, oh yeah oh yeah, OOOOOOH FUUUUCK!"

"I'm gonna, oh god yes, yes, you're making me cum, oh I'm cummmming too oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUUUUUK!"

We collapsed in a sweaty pile, my cock still in her, as we gasped for air in each other's ears.

"I missed you too," I was finally able to say.

She ran her hand idly down my side and sighed as my cock slid out. I kissed her face and licked the sweat from her forehead as I brushed the matted hair away. She was grinning from ear to ear.

After I cleaned us up and swabbed the sheets, we sat on the sofa to eat. She had thoughtfully gotten a towel and laid it under her to catch the cum.

"God, I really needed that," she said, then sat back and folded her legs under her. Her wide-open pussy, swinging breasts, her cascading blond hair, and the leaking cum were getting me hard again.

"It's been a rough week. I started working out with a trainer at the gym on strengthening my throwing arm. Turns out it's more complicated than that, so I've got sessions scheduled three times a week. 

"I'm gonna have to pay attention to my two classes, which aren't as easy as I was hoping.

"And SOL wants me to manage the food concession they won at the 'Olympics' the university is doing for the rest of the summer session. They're doing all these participation events in the afternoons, after classes — ultimate Frisbee, softball tournaments, stuff like that. Big deal, lots of players, lots of spectators, I'll make really good money, so I can give up everything but weekends at SOL for the summer and still come out ahead.

"But I am over-scheduled.

"So you are my relief." And she reached for my cock.

I cupped my hands into a megaphone. "Virgin! Shy virgin! Aisle 3! We found the missing shy virgin!"

She snorted and smacked my shoulder with her free hand as she jacked me.

"No more, she's history. I have a lot of catching up to do." She bent and took my cock in her mouth.

I lay back on the couch and let it happen. Her ponytail had disappeared as we'd fucked, so all I could see was this mass of blonde hair bobbing as she sucked and jacked. She had my balls in one hand and was holding my cock with the other, and she hummed to a tune only she could hear.

She's gotten a lot better. Practice. George must have spent some time on this.

She got me nearly to the edge, then popped off but kept jacking, slowly. 

"You want to cum now, or do you want to play?"

"How much time do we have before you leave for work?"

"Gotta be there by 5:30. It's after three now. How about I finish blowing you and then we fuck?"

"Only if you hit me with three Viagras."

"You're good for four cums in one day, I've been there." Her stroking slowed.

"Yeah, but I didn't know you were gonna drop by, so I, uh, helped myself last night and again this morning. Ohhhh that is soooo nice."

She dropped down on my cock, bobbed a couple of time, then resumed stroking.

"So this is it?"

"I think so. You have this ability to get stuff out of me I didn't know I had, but we're pushing it. Oh goddddd, that is so gooood," I moaned, licking my lips as I felt myself getting closer.

"Then it's lap-dance time," she said, and in one movement she was on me. One more shift and she had me inside her.

Her pussy muscles had gotten stronger since the last time we'd fucked (thanks again, George). She rotated her hips slowly as I played with her clit. The flush rose from her bush to her shoulders and she ground on my cock, watching me for signs of how close I was.

"Slowly, please slowly, I'll cum, I want to make you cum, just take it slooow, please," I begged.

She slowed her pace but she was getting closer, I could see it in her eyes. I worked her clit faster and pinched the more sensitive nipple.

"Now, let's cum, c'mon Carrie, FUCK me, I'm gonna cum, oh god, I'm CUUUUUUMING!" and I arched my hips.

She humped hard against my cock and I felt her pussy muscles trying to control me. Her hair swirled so wildly around her face that I couldn't see her eyes as she leaned forward.

"You are such a good fuck, you're making me CUUUUUMMMM!" She jerked erect, hammered my cock with her pussy, then collapsed on me, limp and breathing hard.

As her breasts hit my chest, I bucked so hard she almost flew off my cock. I grabbed her hips and got in three more thrusts before I was completely spent and just sagged backwards.

When I recovered, my cock was shriveled, the cum was drying, and there was a cooling pool on my balls. I was as limp as a dishrag.

I kissed her closed eyes open.

"Wanna go again?" I bluffed.

"The only place you're going to is the showers." We untangled ourselves and staggered to the bathroom, where she spotted the shower cap.

"For me?"

"The only one larger was in the raincoat section. Yeah, you shouldn't go to work with wet hair. It's a dead giveaway that you've just, eh, you know —"

"Just been fucked?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, it's your personal business, nobody else needs to know."

We luxuriated as the warm water hit our bodies. "Last week, after we did it, I went to work and they teased me. 'Cah-rrie's gott-en lay-yed, Cah-rrie's gott-en lay-yed,' they chanted. I was mortified! But one of the older waitresses stood up for me.

" 'And got laid good, from the looks of her. You guys should do one-tenth as well. Leave her the fuck alone.' I was walking funny all night, and afterward she and I sat and talked.

" 'Don't let 'em get to you,' she said. 'It's just barroom razzing. The girls are jealous, since most of 'em can't keep boyfriends because of the crazy hours. Working nights really fucks up your love life. So keep him happy.' "

We soaped each other. I was too wrecked to even try to turn her on.

Not Carrie. Despite my warning that I had nothing more, she started jacking me. She only gave up when I stood there and couldn't even deliver a spasm.

She kissed me hard, got dressed, and bustled out the door.

*

"Hi, Margery." I was doing my best imitation of energetic. "Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner."

"That's okay. Did you see Carrie?"

I was startled. "Uh, yeah, she just left."

"No wonder you sound wiped out," she smirked through the phone.

"I am, and we have six interviews tomorrow, starting at nine. If I nose-dive into the control panel, I'll crash the project. I have to get some sleep. Can we do dinner tomorrow night?"

"Sure, no rush. I just wanted to catch up on what's going on."

"Thanks. Union? Six?"

"Italian."

*

There has got to be a regime for recovering from this kind of weekend. Yeah, eleven hours of sleep and no masturbation. Not that you've got anything left.

In the morning, I followed my usual morning routine: send email reminders to the next day's interviewees early, make a list of phone numbers for reminder calls during the day, and check the cloud to be sure all the uploaded interviews are still there.

By 8:45 I'd eaten a hearty breakfast at the union and was in the lab.

"You look rested. Get any over the weekend?"

"More than any six men deserve," I teased back. She grinned and we got to work.

The week was going to be busy. Of the 39 interview slot (seven on weekdays, four on Saturday), we had 30 booked.

"That's gonna be intense. Follow me closely, see if you can handle this. I am going to have absolutely no sense of humor left by Wednesday afternoon."

If Don and Anna wanted me to try the role of interviewer, I'd give it a try. Anna had made a copy of her script and said it was okay if I duped one of the interviews and practiced it. 

Partly it was continuity of tone. Another part was pacing the interview for approximately the same duration every time. And, if Anna was not joking around last week, part was about not getting so bored with the repetition that you did sometime that messed up the interview.

She slipped a small change into the early part of first post-lunch interview, when she switched to passive voice on a question. The interviewee didn't seem to notice. About five minutes later she did it again, and again there was no reaction. When she did it a third time, again to no reaction, I realized she was having fun.

After the interviewee left, I asked her about the passive voice thing. "I think of it like singing on a long road trip. It's a novelty but doesn't affect what I'm responsible for. Don says it's okay unless the subject reacts, then I have to drop it. But he," she jerked her thumb toward the door, "didn't catch it."

"No reason why he should, right?"

"Right. Unless you've seen the show before, you shouldn't notice. I'll fool around some more tomorrow."

*

Margery waved as I sauntered into the Italian food court.

"How's work?" she asked.

"Can you be bored with research? This is like watching paint dry. I'm hoping some subject has a cow over one of the personal questions, just for the sport. But everyone so far has the responses we're expecting — they're embarrassed, mostly. But it's amazing how many virgins there are."

"Really? I read somewhere that more than 90 per cent of high school graduating seniors are sexually active."

"Well, we haven't done fifty interviews yet, so it's hardly a valid sample, but we have seven self-admitted virgins."

The waiter interrupted us with the food. When he left, we resumed.

"Well, speaking of virgins —"

"How did you know she was at my place on Sunday?"

"Because she told me she was going, and why."

"How did your plan for, uh, broadening her horizons work out?"

"It worked out fine. She spent almost two days in the sack with George, Tuesday after dinner through Thursday breakfast, and had a wonderful time."

I must have looked stricken.

"Carl, you said you knew she had to fly."

"I know, and I do. I guess I just don't want to have this sort of information."

"And you won't, ever again, at least not from me, unless it's necessary. Discretion about sex is very important in life, even more so in the club."

"I gather that girls in the club discuss these things, though. Wendy mentioned something about my reputation for munching before, uh —"

"Before sticking it in?"

I blushed. "Yeah, that's it." She smiled noncommittally, pushed her plate aside, and leaned across the table.

"You have had a major impact on Carrie's life, especially on her self-confidence. She's told you her story, right?"

"Yes."

"She's a very sexual person, but she's had a life that wasn't big on nurturing and trust. She's trying to figure out how to cope with a sex life. 

"Some girls establish a base, one guy, and they venture out from there, but they always return. Others play the field, value their alone time. Still others have a more-or-less steady group they stick with. And then there's monogamy, or at least serial monogamy.

"It doesn't really matter, so long as everyone gets what they want out of the club."

*

As I closed the apartment door, Margery spun me around and slammed her face into mine. I staggered against the door and she pressed her crotch into mine as she mauled my mouth with hers.

I grabbed her ass and shoved my crotch back at hers. We both moaned and broke for air.

"Bed. Now," we said simultaneously.

The flush on her chest, her hard nipples, and the lust in her eyes took me by surprise as I stripped off my shorts and jockeys. I glimpsed her wet pussy as she hopped onto the bed, flipped over, and held out her arms.

"Fuck me, Carl! I need your cock! Do me!"

We slammed against each other, hard. I was stunned at her ferocity and amazed at my ability to respond. I fucked her hard, she hit back harder, and I came almost as fast as she did.

"God yes, your cock is so big, fuck me, push me there, make me — oh god I'm CUMMMMMING!" and her pussy muscles began milking me.

I shot round after round in her, and kept on thrusting, even after it started hurting. I fell on her but quickly shifted off to her side, and we kissed passionately, then subsided.

"Tough day at the office?" I croaked.

"I'm getting old," she said. "There are twenty kids in her class and I swear the average age is fifteen. They're so naïve!

"But there is this one guy who has been coming on to me.

"Carlucci introduced me as her TA in the first class. I sit in the back, taking notes, since I will grade the papers and the exams and need to know what she's taught them. This guy has sat next to me ever since and has been chatting me up something fierce. He asked me out for coffee after class yesterday."

"Yummy."

"Well no, actually, I can't. The university has these rules about faculty fraternizing with students. Since I'm considered faculty, I could get fired if I got involved with any of them." She blushed. "I had a dream about him last night.

"The university's really strict about it. And one of the points they made in my RA training is no fraternization with your kids."

Whoa, this is moving toward girl-to-girl talk. Slow down, tiger.

"That's tough. What're you gonna do?"

"I just did it. And I'm going to do it again, maybe twice more, before I leave."

"You say the sweetest things," I smiled, and we headed for the bathroom.

After I'd swabbed the blanket, we slid under the sheets and cuddled. 

"Last summer I lived at home and worked in an office. It was torture, I didn't have sex for three months. I swore I would never do that again. 

"This summer, I figured things would be great. TA for Carlucci, take classes, plenty of free time, more cock than I would know what to do with. 

"But I've over-committed, and now I'm stuck. I only see real people in the dorm or in class, and I can't touch any of them. I'm in the stacks researching Carlucci's two articles and the book chapter when I expected to have free time.

"So I need some advice."

"My advice? What do I know?"

"Uh, well, I'm kinda embarrassed to ask, but —" she took a deep breath.

I waited in silence. Wisdom.

"Okay," she exhaled. "You know how bad I blew my freshman year by being stupid about sex? Ever since, the club's been how I've gotten it. I mean, one-hundred percent.

"I'm getting lonely again, Carl. You," and she patted my stirring cock, "are my only option. Well, George when he came to town, before Carrie. And, well, George, after Carrie, before he left town. But I mean, that's it. And I don't want to be a burden on you." She sighed again.

"I've had this same conversation with Tom," I said quietly. "I mean about how to meet girls. He says it's tough, working during the day and all. It's not like during the regular year, when we're all in our routines and the club is in full swing."

"Yeah, that was part of my motivation to get it functioning this summer. Too bad Amanda shot it down.

"Look," she said, "I don't mean to pry, but how are you coping?"

Truth's usually best, but I hope she doesn't get mad at me.

"I'm doing okay."

"Are you successful?"

I heaved a real sigh. "Yes."

"How?"

"Actually, by following your advice."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Get involved in their lives, you said."

"And?"

"Do you really want details?"

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. It's just that I'm used to going to bed with a different guy twice a week and getting well-fucked. But since finals it's just been you and George. I've got more needs than that. So I AM interested, yes."

"Right after we talked about Carrie and her situation, I went to SOL," I said, "just to establish my interest in her. She was busy, so the waiter seated me at a table with these high-school girls. One of them decided I was a 'bad boy' and the next morning she came here and we spent the day in bed. I haven't seen her since and, frankly, I don't care.

"Last Monday, I was feeling lonely. I went to the union for dinner, saw a girl alone at a table, and invited myself to sit. I gave her a campus tour, found out she was here for the summer, taking music lessons, and asked if she was going to give a recital. She said no, but the next day there was a poster in the union, announcing her class was giving a performance at noon on Friday. I went, took pictures, and asked her out for dinner. She left Sunday morning."

"Right before Carrie jumped you?"

I blushed. "Yes."

"Wow! No wonder you were so wrecked! I thought you were sorta shy."

"You're responsible for all this, you know that, right?"

"I helped, I guess. Me, Ruth, Pete, the club."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 12



"You gave me self-confidence. Ruth said it would take a girl, maybe a couple of girls, to get me believing in my own attractiveness. I still don't consider myself macho-attractive, but now I'm willing to take a chance that a girl will like who I am."

"So your advice is . . ."

"Get a summer job."

"Oh yeah, that'll work."

"No, really. Carrie told me SOL won this food concession for the Olympics for the rest of the summer. It's afternoon work, she's gonna need help. I can't think of a better opportunity to meet people. And none of them could possibly be a problem for the fraternization policy."

"Well, I don't know. Carlucci's pretty demanding."

"Working for Carlucci is your future, you can't drop it, but she's gotta be realistic. It's the RA thing that's excessive. If that's gone, you can pick up boys in the lounge." I leered at her.

"At least check it out with the RA administrator, see if it's really as restrictive as you think. But if it is, I'd say drop it. 

"Provided, of course, that what Carrie pays can make up the difference."

"It's not really the money. I'd budgeted on paying rent, the RA thing just came up. Like you said, I figured I'd meet guys in the dorm. I dunno, I'm kinda shy, I guess."

"Well, you could stop random guys on campus and say 'wanna fuck, right now?' That'd be efficient, anyway."

"That's so brazen!" she giggled.

"Still," she mused, half-seriously, "I never thought about that."

"Let's role-play and see." I pushed the sheet back, stood, and extended my hand. She swung to her feet.

"Okay, you stand by the couch, I'll walk by. Take your best shot." She was chortling as she left the bedroom.

"Ready," she announced.

I walked toward the front door, my cock bouncing in front of my dangling balls. As I approached the couch, she turned and thrust her hip out in my direction.

"Hey, good-lookin', wanna fuck?"

"Gee, I dunno. I think I hear my mother calling me. I'm late for class. The dog ate —" She turned slightly, opened her legs, and humped her pussy at me. 

"God you're so convincing, yeaaaah," and I swept her into my arms and shoved a bullet kiss into her mouth.

We fell backward onto the couch, groping and sucking.

"Don't you want to know my terms?" she husked.

"You charge?" She was stroking my rapidly-hardening cock.

"In a manner of speaking."

"What's the price?"

"You have to eat me, fuck me, sleep with me, fuck me in the morning, and share breakfast, all before we both go to work."

"That's a tall order," I panted, because she was jacking me to real excitement.

"It's all or nothing. Waddaya say?"

"Okay, you win. But stop, please," I begged and put my hand on hers, to stop the stroking, "I'll cum."

"Then eat me, now."

I stood and she shifted to a sitting position as I nabbed a cushion. Kneeling between her spread legs, I began slowly lapping her pussy, from the bottom of her opening to the top, with my hands on her thighs. She spread them wider and lay back.

"Oh god yes, I'm so hot for this, ummm, yes," she coo-ed as my tongue probed for her clit. It sprang up as soon as I tongued aside the hood. Once I had it out, I sucked it into my mouth and fluttered my tongue on the bud. She humped up against my face. 

"Mmmmm, oh god yes, ohhhhhhh yes."

Slowly I slid a single finger into her, then out and circling her lips. She was throwing her head around on the back of the couch, moaning as she licked her lips for moisture.

When my second finger entered her, she lifted her hips and pulled my face into her pussy. 

"Keep doing it, god don't stop, you're making me, OH GOD I'M CUMMMING!" and her hips thrashed around my face as she elevated her hips.

She flopped back onto the couch, pulling me with her. As though I wasn't warm enough, the heat from her pussy was making me sweat. I scrambled up beside her and rained kisses on her sweaty face.

"Oh man, you are sooooo good at that," she sighed. After a while she took my semi-soft cock in her hand and squeezed, softly.

"You wanta?"

"Oh yeaaah, but in bed." She stood, wrapped her hand around my organ, and pulled me with her.

"Ride me Margery, I want your clit," I commanded. She was so wet that I was in on the first stroke. 

Her clit was mostly out from under the hood and I played with it with my thumb. Her breasts bounced as she moved circularly on my cock. I tweaked the nearest breast with my free hand and she responded by upping her pace. Soon she was at full gallop and it was all I could do to keep up.

"You are so gonna cum! I am gonna get you big time!" She bent forward, her hands beside my head, and churned while I pinched her nipples. Back upright, she was going wild, thrashing her hips around and breathing hard.

"I'm there! I'm cumming, I'm CUUUUUMING! GOD I'M CUMMING!" and I shot off into her.

"Don't stop! Keep fucking me! I'm almost there! Oh yeah, now, OH GODDD YES, YESSSS, YESSSS!" and she jerked upright as she thrust her pelvis two or three times, then collapsed on me.

Twenty minutes later I woke to find Margery snoring lightly beside me. There was cum all over and she was on her back, oozing more. This happy scene sustained me to the bathroom and back with the warm cloth, and she woke as I was swabbing her pussy.

"Ummm. What time is it?" 

"Just after ten. When do you have to be at work?"

"My first class is at ten, Carlucci's is at eleven. That was nice, really nice."

I slid into bed next to her, dropping the cloth on the floor. 

"Yes it was. Tired enough to go to sleep?"

"I think I am." She turned to the bedside clock. "Can we set the alarm for six-thirty?"

"Kinda early."

"A super fuck and a decent breakfast take time." She kissed me and we spooned, then fell asleep.

*

I'll never tire of wake-up blowjobs. And Margery's were the best. She must have awoken before the alarm went off, because it was just past six-thirty and I never heard it. 

On the other hand, I did feel my cock stiffening in her mouth. She pulled off, turned, and kissed me. 

"You looked so sweet, so peaceful, lying there, I just had to get started."

She went back on me, sucking and jacking, licking the cockhead into exquisite awareness. When she popped off again and suddenly mounted me, she was primed, and so was I.

"Some wake-up call system you got here," I perked as she rocked her hips on my cock as I palmed her breasts.

"Say it like you mean it."

I arched my back and chased her pussy skyward as she teased me. When I got deep enough inside her, I tried holding her hips so I could pound her, but she countered by dropping down on me.

"OOOMPF!"

"Gotta have a better memory than that, we've been here before. C'mon Carl, let's FUCK!"

You think while fucking, you get soft. Just do it.

I grabbed her hips again and again she dropped onto me. But just before she hit, I moved out of the way and spun her onto her back.

"Eeeck! WHAT —"

I was mostly in her, so when I landed on top of her and started pounding, she had no choice but to respond.

"NOW we're fucking! C'mon Margery! I'm gonna make you cum like fireworks!"

I was rotating my hips hard against her clit at an angle that pushed my cock into the top of her pussy. She planted her elbows beside her and slammed against me.

"Oh god, oh god, yes, yes, good fucking, oooooh YESSSSS!" and she came, her face scrunched in pleasure as she whipped her head around on the pillow.

But I hadn't cum, and she felt it.

She flipped me onto my back!

"Fuck these!" she said, kneeling between my knees and leaning forward. She pushed her breasts together, around my cock. 

"Fuck these! Hurry!" And she worked them back and forth around my slippery rod.

"C'mon Carl! Cum! Cum! CUUUMMMMM!"

So I did.

I blasted all over her chest, her throat, her face, and of course her breasts.

When I was done she fell on me. I delivered a kiss like none I'd ever given her and we held each other and fought for control of our senses.

When the world more-or-less came back into focus, I asked the only question that seemed reasonable.

"Where did that come from?"

She giggled. "When you didn't cum, I needed to get you there. I could jack you or suck you, but that's kinda vanilla. This was fun!

"You've just been tit-fucked."

"And it was great! You have more cum on you in more places than I've ever seen."

"You're not so bad yourself," she smiled, wiggling her pussy on my flaccidness.

We showered and toweled each other dry, realizing at some point that we hadn't eaten in thirteen hours. I decided to ask the landlord if he'd let me install one of those hand-held shower heads, it's so much more erotic than the one fixed on the wall.

We breakfasted at the union. 

"I do have to do something about my, uh, requirements. I'm not sure that working for SOL is the solution, but you're nothing if not a guy, so I should consider your advice."

"What's 'nothing if not a guy' got to do with it?"

"Men think in problem-solving ways, based on analysis and logic. Women are more intuitive, emotional — I don't mean that in a pejorative way — we come at a problem from all sorts of angles. I was just thinking that I've never really opened up to a guy like I have to you about something as personal as this. So I'm gonna give it a shot."

She stood up, kissed me, and was on her way.

*

Like yesterday, today's schedule was six interviews. This was only the fifth day of close to thirty days of nine-to-five interviews, word-for-word reprises of a script I could already recite large portions of, verbatim.

"Anna, do you mind if I play Partrtidge Family tunes through the sound system while you read the script? It'd liven things up."

"Please no! I'll do anything, just not that!" We laughed at the possibility.

"Seriously, though, I would like to try interviewing. I can recite sections of it word-for-word."

"Sure, I think you have the right attitude. How about you take the eleven o'clock interview? If you bomb out, we can restart quickly enough without running into the next interview."

It went pretty well. Afterward, she showed me where I had slowed down, emphasizing the need to maintain a constant pace. "Overall, though, you kept the tone consistent, didn't slide into sing-song or a monotone.

"I'm gonna recommend to Don that we split things up. Frankly, I appreciate the chance to escape the routine. Now, you've got to show me what to look for on the control panel."

After I paid the last interviewee at 3:45, Anna shoo-ed me into the hall so she could talk to Don. Five minutes later she opened the door.

"Okay, we're on. I said we'd pretty much split the interviews. We'll add $50 per interview to your pay."

"Wow, that's great, thanks."

Suddenly it hit me. "Wait, doesn't that mean you're taking a substantial pay cut? I don't want to take —"

"Nope. Every project has some slack in it. We actually figured on this in the budget. We knew from experience that we couldn't do this with just one interviewer. And, frankly, we were hoping you'd get into it. Besides, now I can put 'supervisor' on my resume. So congratulations!"

I blushed. "Thank you, I hadn't expected this."

Everybody's seeing things for you that you don't see for yourself. You that clueless? Pete and Ruth saw you'd take to fucking like a duck to water. Margery sloted you into this job and then slots you in as the club's virgin slayer and substitute Casanova. Now this. Wow. Or sigh.

*

Marilyn was just closing up when I arrived for the cash for the Thursday and Friday interviews. On my way back to the apartment, Martha called.

"Done for the day?"

"Yeah, and none too soon. Dinner?"

"For sure. I'm sitting in the food court as we speak. I'll order you a Sprite."

She waved as I came into the big room. I sat and took a long swig.

"You ought to go into artistic booking," she said.

"Based on what success that I'm not aware of?"

"You remember, you introduced me to your friend last Saturday, at the improv show, at Literratica? She called the next day, I put her in touch with Charlie, and all of a sudden we're playing there a week from Saturday. It's 'Charlie and Friends, Bluegrass and Folk Music.' "

"Isn't that Fourth of July weekend?"

"Yeah. Apparently it's slow then, they didn't book anybody because business drops off. But they think maybe we can bring in some. Besides, we're cheap."

"Well, I guess I'm better than I knew. Although I think I'm a one-trick pony."

"Don't put yourself down. Charlie says we need the pressure of performing to sharpen our skills. You've done us a big favor.

"We're gonna do two sets, nine songs each, close to 45 minutes for each set."

We gave the waiter our order.

"Sounds like a lot."

"It won't be easy. We're keeping five of the songs we did over here —" she stuck her thumb over shoulder, toward the stage at the side of the room — "but rearranging the order. So we need thirteen more. At least two of us know another eight songs, so we have to find and learn five completely new pieces in about ten days. Plus rehearsal, of course. Not impossible, but tough."

"You excited?"

"Yes! We don't know what we're going to play. If Evan had his way, it would be all Bill Monroe. Charlie knows a guy who plays India-Indian songs on a mandolin, so I think he's gonna surprise us with some suggestions. Each set will have a pure instrumental piece, like the Vivaldi, but the serenata was a clunker, so it's out.

"Charlie's been in the business for almost thirty years. He's always played in groups and he's done hundreds of shows and concerts. He knows what works and what doesn't. He could probably structure the whole thing in ten minutes, but he wants us to do it, in addition to learning the music. We all realize how valuable it is to do it this way."

"I hope you're gonna keep the Tennessee Flat Top Box one. That was a real winner."

"Yeah. We're not sure whether we end the first set with it, or finish the whole show with it, or maybe even lead off with it. We are having, as they say, artistic differences, but it'll get resolved, probably by the end of this week, when we settle on what songs we're gonna be doing and probably the order."

Our food showed up.

"Is the official photographer position still open?"

"You are such a nice guy! Yes, absolutely. Everybody liked your photos. Charlie wants to do a group photo, it'll be used in the publicity. He'd like to take it this week. Are you available?"

"Only nights during the week. How about Saturday morning? I could be there by eleven. But you have to come home with me tonight."

"I think I can make that," she smiled demurely. 

We kissed deliciously as we leisurely undressed each other. Her shorts and panties joined my cargoes and jockeys on the floor. My shirt, her shirt. We made short work of her bra, then pushed the sheets back.

"Is it okay if I tell you I missed this?" I croaked from between her legs.

"If you let me confess I missed your tongue more," she husked back. 

I licked slowly up her damp slit to her clit, which obligingly had slipped from under its hood. She sighed deeply as I pressed it to my teeth and rolled my tongue around its nub. And she bucked when I slipped a finger into her and began working the top of her pussy.

The second finger got a deeper reaction and, when I started humming on her clit, she grabbed my hair and pulled me tight against her. I fluttered for all I was worth with my tongue and wiggled my two fingers inside her.

"Ohh," she whispered as she drove her hips toward the ceiling, then thrashed them around my face. I let her clit loose and licked her pussy lips and tongued her furiously.

She stiffened, pushed her hips way up, swirled them, and finally crashed to the bed. 

I scooted to lie beside her and she sucked fiercely on my mouth, ramming her tongue against mine. It seemed appropriate to give her both my slick fingers, so I pulled my mouth away and ran them across her lips. She took one, then the other, into her mouth and licked every inch, while I methodically worked her left breast with my lips.

"Mmmmm," she hummed when she was done.

"Like it, or are you just being nice?"

"Sex with you is so different. I would never have thought I'd do something like that."

"But . . ." I pressed.

"I like it. And I like this too," and she slid down and took my cock in her mouth!

Is this the girl who wouldn't slob up a latex-encased cock?

She bobbed a couple of times, then pulled off, and leered at me.

"You're wet, I'm wet, let's go!"

"Condom, Martha, please, I have to —" 

"You don't have to, you're just being gallant. C'mon, I like the feeling."

"And I love the feeling — but," and I stretched for the drawer and snagged a foil, "we have to. Please, roll it on, sensuously, slowly, with your mouth. Don't make me cum, see how it works."

She tore the foil, placed the condom at the top of my cock, and pushed at it with her lips.

"Oh wow, this's neat," she perked, pulling off when it was only partially down. She eventually got about half way down, then popped off and finished with her hand.

"It's slick. Lubricated, right? For me?"

"You bet for you. Now let's take each other to heaven."

She was wet, and the lubrication certainly did its job. I was in her and sawing away in two strokes.

Not Martha. She swung her hips in a counter-clockwise motion, holding herself tight against my pubic bone. "Do it this way, stay tight to my clit, I love cumming this way."

I'd always thought that fucking was a variation on in and out, but Martha had her own idea. It was different, and I was far from ready to cum when she bucked hard against me.

"Ooooo, agh," she grunted, as she held her pussy tight against me while she humped and swung her hips, her hair swishing all around the pillow.

As she settled onto the bed, her eyes fluttered and I saw the question.

"You didn't cum."

"No, but you did. I'm a happy boy."

"Well I'm gonna finish the job," and she grabbed my latex-dressed cock and began jacking me.

"Can we do something else?"

"Sure. Whatta you have in mind?"

"Roll the condom off."

"Goodie! Bare cock!" The latex was gone in one motion.

"You're gonna make me cum with your breasts."

"Uh, basic anatomy calling. No place to put it."

"You press them together, I slide between them, stroke back and forth as you rub them against me."

"Kink-eee. Never heard of this one. But okay, I'm game. Let's go," she chirped.

"Make me wet, Martha," and I moved my cock toward her mouth. She hesitated, but took the top two inches in, sucked and tongued, and popped off.

"Ready!"

I straddled her waist and leaned forward, my hands on either side of her head, with my cock lying in the channel between her breasts. She squeezed them together and I began to move.

"Oh god, Martha, this is so erotic! Wiggle 'em when the head comes in," I croaked as I started my third stroke.

"Too tight. Loosen a little, there, oh god, soooo nice, I'm fucking your tits," I grunted as I thrust faster. 

And faster. And faster. 

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna —" and I blasted my first spurt inside the tunnel of her breasts as I was pushing forward.

The second spurt erupted as my cockhead exited the tunnel into the open. The cum landed all over her chest and face.

"AAAAACK!" she squealed, but kept her breasts clamped around my cock.

The third and the fourth spurts sprayed not only her face and shoulders but also her throat and past, onto the pillow.

I fell past her and hit the headboard, then rolled onto my side and pulled her cum-slippery chest to me as I heaved and fought for breath. When I was semi-recovered, Martha shoved her cum-splattered face into mine and we kissed.

"You came all over me," she said, no anger or even reproach in her voice. "If I'd been babbling away, you'd probably have shot into my mouth."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 12



"Another reason to get you talking during sex," I croaked. 

"I love this! I'm gonna baste you," and she rubbed the cum into my chest and belly hair and all over her front.

"If we let it dry, neither one of us will be able to move, we'll be like the tin man," I said. We dozed.

"God, we are such a mess," she said when we woke, about 10 minutes later. "Let's shower."

She snuggled her hair into the shower cap and we washed every bit of each other's anatomy, including our assholes.

"You have the most well-formed pussy. I'm going to invent a new religion that requires licking you for ten minutes, three times a day."

"And I'm going to take a picture of your cock, if it ever gets hard again, and advertise on Facebook that I did the circumcision. I'll be a millionaire!"

"Do I get royalties?"

"Absolutely not! I mean, what part did you play in the creation of this artifact of high art? Well," she relented, "maybe I'll arrange for a blowjob on the anniversary of the photo, every year."

Back in bed, we realized it was already 10 o'clock. I lay beside her and played with the fine hairs on her belly as she stroked my cheek.

"When do you have to be at work?"

"First interview is at nine, I like to be there by 8:45, to check everything, be there when Anna arrives."

"Anna?"

"She's the graduate student I work for. She does the actual interviewing, I make sure the recording happens. It gets really old, saying the same thing six or seven times a day, every day.

"So we've decided I can do half the interviews. It'll make things easier for her, and I'll learn something."

She let the subject go, then cleared her throat.

"I talked to Michael."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. After I left the studio on Sunday, I took a nap. My mom woke me up around nine and told me that Michael had just called, in tears, about what I had done to my Facebook page.

" 'He loves you,' she said."

" 'But I don't love him, mom. We broke up four weeks ago, we're seeing other people. It's over.' "

" 'But you were sweethearts, always together, so good for each other. You sang so beautifully.' "

" 'Yes we did. And mom, on top of everything else, you know we were having sex, right?' She was quiet for ten seconds."

" 'Yes, I guess I did.' "

" 'Mom, it was all really wonderful. But we've drifted apart, I'm moving on. I've met new people, widened my horizons. It's what you and daddy always said, that's what college is for, right?' " 

" 'Yes, yes, that's what we said. But he was crying.' "

" 'I'll call him, but nothing's gonna change. If he calls again, just tell him he has to talk to me, that you're not going to get involved. Okay?'

"I stared at the phone for fifteen minutes. The last time Michael and I had talked, we'd been face-to-face. This would be easier.

"I nearly lost it when he answered. He knew it was me from caller ID. 'I love you,' he said.

" 'But I don't love you, Michael.' I don't think I've ever sounded stronger and felt weaker in my life.

" 'We can get the magic back. I'll do anything you want. Please, give me a chance. I'll fly out, we can make it work.' 

"I started to lose it. I stopped, took a deep breath, and did it.

" 'No. When we're back at school, we're just friends. We won't sing together, we won't sleep together, we're just friends. It has to be.' 

"I had to get off the phone before I chickened out. 'Good-bye Michael.' And I hit END."

We lay there, just touching. 

"I read a story once about an immigrant girl, new to America, in the streets of New York," she said quietly. "She was scared but determined to make something of herself. It was impossibly romantic, of course, but it's stuck with me. I dreamed about it that night.

"I can do this. I'm gonna tell my parents I'm dropping out of college. Until I'm twenty-five I'm gonna concentrate on music. 

"Charlie says I have the skills, that if I work at it I can make a living playing. And he will help me. I can do session work at some of the studios he knows, maybe catch on with a group, or even two or three, tour."

She yawned and stretched.

"Every time I am with you, I feel like I can do anything. When I leave, after a while I start to doubt. Then I talk to Charlie, and I'm jazzed again."

You know you want to ask. And you know you shouldn't. Maybe it will come out in conversation.

"Are you and Charlie, uh, well, uh —"

"Fucking?"

She used the word. And it hit me like a bag of cement. I nodded.

"No. I've got all I can handle, right here," and she stroked my cock. 

"When I signed up for this class, I had this fantasy about becoming the teacher's lover. He would take me under his wing, mold my career, make me a star.

"Charlie can actually do a lot of that. He knows an awful lot of people in the business, particularly in bluegrass and folk. But if I became Charlie's girlfriend, I'd just be exchanging one Michael for another.

"He's 51, been married three times, and has three kids, the youngest of which is two years older than me. He says he's ruined every relationship he's ever had because he's never home. There's a girlfriend in Nashville, but he makes his living on the road. He says it's who he is.

"Not that he's uninterested in sex. He's hit on every one of the girls in class, but we've all turned him down. Remember the public relations chickie at the concert? He got her into bed that night faster than you got me here." She smiled.

We lay there, just touching.

"Now about you. That shower cap's new. What's up?"

"I don't have a girlfriend, if that's what you mean. There are four of us who are friends during the year and are here this summer."

She took the opportunity. "So you wouldn't be offended if I started sleeping with someone else?" 

I felt like she'd slugged me in the stomach.

"No, of course not. I don't own you."

"Okay, then I have a proposition for you."

"I'm all ears."

"I am very comfortable sleeping with you. It's pretty clear that we each want our space. I have to get used to sleeping with different guys, finding out how to choose the right ones and avoid the wrong ones. So I'm gonna start.

"There are three guys in the class: Francis, Mike, and Evan. I'm going to sleep with Francis and Evan."

"How come you skipped Mike?"

"He's gay."

My jaw must have dropped.

She giggled. 

"Oh, you should have seen the stage-door johnnies on Friday! We teased him about it after lunch and he just laid it out.

"He'd arrived here a day before I did. After he got settled, he called a taxi, handed the driver ten bucks, and told him to drive to the best gay bar in town. He hasn't slept alone a single night.

"Now," she said, "to get back to the subject at hand. If you agree, I'd like you to be my sounding board. We'll talk to each other anytime, get together once or twice a week. The rest of time, I'll be free to be with whoever.

"But you're my home base. I can talk with you, you can help me understand men. And, you're a great lay." She leered.

"And I want to be with you, Martha. I love the sex, and I want to be part of your life for the next three weeks. That sounds corny, but it's true."

"Thank you." And she kissed me softly.

She slid down and sucked my cock into her mouth. Soon it was hard and she began bobbing as she held the shaft. When I was satisfactorily hard, she popped off.

"I have GOT to learn how to give a proper blowjob. You are going to teach me tonight and I will give you a wake-up blowjob in the morning. Okay?"

"Uh, yeah, okay, if you want to, sure," I said, caught off-guard at her straight-forwardness.

She settled on my right hip and starting stroking.

"A blowjob where I don't cum in your mouth is just a variation on a handjob," I pontificated. "Is that what you want to do?" 

"Oh no. I should have said that, sorry. Yes, absolutely, I want you to cum in my mouth. You gave me some pointers last time, but I blew it," she grinned at the double-entendre.

"Okay. When you gave Michael a handjob, could you tell when he was about to cum?"

"He'd warn me, I didn't have to pay any attention." Her pace slowed a little.

"That's certainly helpful, but if you're blowing someone, the announcement may come a bit late to get the end of my cock in the right place. Speaking personally, I'm usually kinda focused on cumming, or holding off, certainly not communication, so I may not be very helpful. You need to watch and listen." Now she was on my cockhead with her lips.

"When I cum, my balls retract and the cum starts to move — oh god that is soooo nice, soooo nice — so keep in touch with my balls. 

"And I arch my back when I'm there. That's a sure sign." The pace of her bobbing was picking up.

"From your point of view, you don't want my cockhead in the front of your mouth — oh god yesss, that is soooo nice, don't stop — you want it further back. Not down your throat, just before there. Feel it?" xxx She pulled off but kept jacking me. 

"Yeah, I think I felt where it should be."

"That's where you want it to be when I cum, so you can swallow as it shoots out — ooooh god that is soooo niiiice! — there really isn't a lot, about a tablespoon full, but if you're not ready it can seem overwhelming." 

"That's for sure. When I tried it that time, I felt like I had a fire hose in my mouth." She laughed ruefully.

"Alright," she said, picked up the pace of her stroking, "Now I'm gonna do it. Let's go!" 

"Martha, god, you're going to make me cum pretty soon." She certainly had the arousal thing down, it was her finish that needed work.

"Feel my balls?"

"Yeah, they're lifting up. You're getting close, right?" She speeded up her stroking.

"Yeah. I'm gonna try not to arch up, but I may not be able to help myself. When I start, just keep it in your mouth and ride with me. Grab my ass if you need to, but keep me in your mouth. Don't lose the seal with your lips — oh god oh god that is soooo wonderful, keep going, please don't stop."

She was on me now, with my cockhead at the spot and her lips firmly holding the shaft.

"OH GOD, HERE IT COMES!" In spite of my intentions, I bucked my hips. She took the first blast, then the second, and I think I felt her swallow.

She held on as the third blast arrived and the fourth staggered to an end. 

She'd taken it all! 

And swallowed!

And she'd pulled back and was fluttering her tongue on my mushroom!

"Stop, please, oh god, please Martha stop, it hurts," I begged. She slowly let me go. "But clean me up, leave no cum unswallowed." She lapped around the cockhead, swallowed, then turned to me and grinned raffishly, licking her lips.

"You did it! God you're so good! Kiss me!" and I pulled her face to mine.

She held back.

"It's okay, you were soooo good to me, I want you." 

"But I've got your cum in my mouth. Isn't that gross?"

"You took it. Was it gross?"

"Michael said it was gay for a guy to take it."

"I'm not Michael. Kiss me, I love what you did." Our kiss was hard, grew softer, and we finally broke, happily.

She pillowed her head against my shoulder. I felt very content. 

*

I'll never tire of morning blowjobs. It was Martha's debut and she was determined. I patted her ass and she slid off.

"You are going to get so blown," she leered over her shoulder. "I dreamed about it." And she resumed bobbing.

At first her determination was just that, bobbing, and I asked her to vary it. "I love it slow, but not too slow in the morning. I don't want to wake up to an alarm clock, but I do want —"

"Yeah, okay, I get it," and she worked stroking into her bobbing and tonguing, at a slower pace. 

"Let me sit up, I want to watch you. And you can watch me."

I struggled up, shoved the pillow behind my back, and Martha resituated herself between my legs, so we could watch each other. Her eyes smiled as she took my cock into her mouth.

"Oh god I love this, watching you bobbing for cum," I said. "It's tremendously erotic if you keep your eyes open and watch me."

"Got it. Now shut up and let me work."

It built, and as she bobbed and played with my balls, my enthusiasm bubbled. At the top of one of her bobs, she stopped and began twirling her tongue and lips around the head.

"Ohhhh, I like that," I said dreamily. "You're gonna get me, you know."

"You're gonna EXPLODE in my mouth and I'm gonna have my caloric intake for the week," she jibbed, as she took me nearly completely down her throat, gagged slightly, then returned to bobbing and jacking.

Her eyes were wide as I got closer, and if she could have smiled I think she would have as I was rushing to my cumming. 

"So close, sooooo close. It's gonna happen, don't stop, please don't stop, god it feels soooo goooood — OH GOD HERE I CUM!" and I arched off the bed.

She stayed with me, and I felt her lips clamp, just down the shaft from my cockhead. The first, the second, and the strong third blast shot rapidly into her mouth, and as the wimpy fourth ended she swirled her tongue around the head. As a victory lap, she took me deep into her throat, then popped off and gleefully flung herself beside me.

"Gotcha!"

"Oh god that was good," I croaked as I watched her lick her lips.

This time she didn't hesitate when I reached for her. She snaked her tongue into me and we swapped everything she had. The residual saltiness was delicious.

As I recovered, she sat beside me, pulled her legs under her ass, and straightened her breasts. She fixed me with a clinician's smile as she held her hand up in front of herself, palm facing in, and began completing an imaginary checklist.

"Get subject pretty hard before he wakes up, check.

"Exchange sexy banter with subject, check.

"Have cock in position as he starts to cum, check. 

"Catch every drop, check.

"Suck subject dry, check.

"Question subject if procedure satisfactory. Yes or no?" she deadpanned.

"Oh god yes, triple check," She dropped her palm and grinned.

"Wait! Don't forget the squeaking. Did I?"

"Jeez, I dunno. I was, you know, otherwise engaged."

"I'll miss hearing about that." We laughed, and snuggled together.

"Well, am I ready to launch?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. My choice of guy, my choice of place, my choice of time."

"Right. But please remember me."

"Don't be silly. I am going to grace this bed so often you'll get sick of me."

"No way!"

"Any pre-launch advice?"

"No, this is all about grabbing experience. Some you'll win, some you'll lose. But you're tough enough, you'll be fine.

But I do have a selfish request."

"Shoot."

"Get an STD test. Full-blown, no exclusions. It'd be a good baseline. Not just the AIDS-VD test, but the whole thing."

"Good idea. I'm not sure Michael wasn't having sex with Edie. But why do you care?"

"Because, before you leave, I want to fuck the night away with you without a condom."

"Oh I'd love that," she smiled, and kissed me.

"But you said you had to use them. What's changed?"

"Well, remember I told you about my friends who are here this summer? We belong to this group and during classes we've agreed to date only within the group. We take and pass a full STD test twice a year, so we can fuck without condoms. It's all very straightforward and we, uh —"

"Get all the sex you want?"

I blushed. "Well, yes.

"In the summer," I continued, "almost everybody's away, so the few of us who are here have decided it's okay to date outside, but we have to use condoms when we're not with each other. It's absolutely the right thing to do, but I really like the intimate feeling of, well, skin.

"I'd just, well, I'd just like to be with you that way." I stammered.

She kissed me. "I like the feeling too. You are such a romantic. Yeah, I do need to do the test. And I would really like to make love to you and feel your cum in my pussy. But I'm warning you, I don't like sleeping in the wet spot." She kissed me again.

"And now," she said, hopping out of bed, "since it's past seven, you've got to get ready for work." We showered, dressed, and hustled to the union for breakfast.

*

Wednesday's and Thursday interviews were easy, pretty much routine. We flipped for who started, then alternated. 

"What are you doing for the weekend?" I asked Anna when we finished on Thursday. 

"If we didn't have the two interviews on Saturday, I'd probably spend the entire weekend in bed with my boyfriend. He's complaining he isn't getting enough during the week," she bantered. "More likely it's laundry and errands. We're going to a dinner party Saturday night. You?"

"Don't know. Cruise for girls, I guess. The usual, find three and a golden retriever, fuck their brains out." She laughed.

*

"Hey Carl, wanna go for a picnic on Saturday, after the photo session?" It was Martha, catching me watching Thursday Night Baseball and eating a pizza.

"Love to! You guys only working half a day?"

"Quit at noon. Nick, the guy Mike's dating, grew up on a farm up the river from here, we're invited for a picnic."

"Sure. But won't I cramp your style?"

"Ha! I'm not an exhibitionist. No open-air sex in front of a group for me, at least not yet."

"Will there be any, uh, opportunity for me to, uh, you know, meet someone?"

"That's actually what I have in mind. I mean, for both of us. Things have gotten a little tense, we need to relax. Charlie's not gonna be there. 

"So," she said, slyly, "we want to get away from shop talk. Can you bring two of your friends? Outside talent might get some sparks flying." I described Margery and Tom and she thought they'd be fine.

*

"A picnic? Sure," said Margery after I explained the situation. "Anything to get away from Carlucci's footnotes."

"We got the wiring for the server under control, work's slow. Sure, count me in," declared Tom.

I called Martha back. "Two warm bodies, at your service." We decided that I would bring Margery and Tom with me to the studio for the shoot, then we'd all head off for the picnic.

*

There were only four interviews on Friday, all in the morning. After lunch with Anna, I went to the office and for the cash to pay next week's subjects, dispersed it into the envelopes, and stashed everything in the desk.

I did all my laundry, changed the sheets, and cleaned the bathroom. After all, if I read Martha right, I might have a guest on Saturday night.

Tom and Margery might be in need of condoms if the picnic got interesting, so I made up two four-condom business-size white envelopes and put them in the glove compartment of the Honda.

Tom met me for dinner at the union.

"So whose picnic is this?" he asked as we finished our meal.

"I took pictures at the mandolin show here last week and hit it off pretty well with one of the players, Martha. They asked me to take publicity photos for their show at Lit next Saturday, we're doing it tomorrow morning. They're just having this picnic, and want some new blood, I guess so they're not talking shop all the time. I thought of you and Margery."

"Who's she?"

I really wanted to tell him about the club. If nothing else, he and I could make Margery's summer existence more tolerable. But I didn't want to scare him off, so I kept it general.

"I know Margery from a club I belong to. She's got a TA job this summer and is doing research work for the professor and taking two classes. It's pretty intense and she needs a break."

*

The Saturday interviews went quickly. The subjects and Anna and I wanted to get on with the day, so we were out the door by quarter of eleven.

Tom and Margery met me at the Psych building and we drove to the rehearsal space at Carpenter.

The studio was in a medium-sized, windowless room in the basement. Charlie had laid out thirty album covers and publicity stills as examples on a table. He'd also borrowed a simple studio lighting setup — lights, umbrellas, even a green screen — which I assembled for the group shot.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 13



We watched as Margery and Tom walked toward her dorm.

"Nice couple. How long have you known them?" asked Janice.

"Margery and I belong to the same club," I said. "I met Tom when I was desperate for help to set up the video system for the psych research project I'm working on this summer. He's a whiz at this stuff, which is a good thing, because I'm not. I don't think they'd met before today. Just clicked, I guess.

"Now," I said, turning the key, "we have work to do."

" 'We?' "

"Well, uh, yes, if you wouldn't mind helping me," I stammered, uncertain again. "We have to make decisions on the photos from this morning. Since you're in them, and you know everybody, the extra set of eyes will help."

"Okay, but I'm not a very visual person."

"Even better. You'll see what a normal person sees."

I uploaded both cameras and we began flipping through the pictures, starting with the publicity shots. I sat Janice in my chair and parked myself behind her, on the end of my bed.

We selected three possibilities for the group photo. The best, in my opinion, had Charlie Waddington in the middle of his six students sporting a huge smile. Since the name of the act at Literratica next weekend was, after all, "Charlie Waddington and Friends," the only question was which was best. There were two other shots that showed more animation in the faces of some of the players, but I liked this one best. We decided to send all three and let the group decide.

The one-on-ones-with-Charlie were mixed. Martha, as always, stood out, obviously there was chemistry between them. Janice's smile looked forced, but we agreed on which one was the best. We selected two or three for the other four students, made up a group email, and sent them on their way.

Then there were the picnic photos. 126 images with a surprising number of worthwhile shots. We liked 22, nine of which featured Martha (for some reason). Six were of Mike and Nick, and the others were of everyone else. I was particularly pleased with one where Nick was looking very lovingly at Mike, and another where Helen had her hand on Francis's shoulder and a predatory smile on her face. We talked about whether to send any of them to the individuals involved, and decided they were personal, so I would keep them.

Janice had underestimated her visual self. Of the 16 shots she'd taken during our walk, four were pretty good, a high percentage. Sure, she could have composed them better, and, sure, she hadn't been very aggressive about just shooting, but all-in-all they were pretty good.

I particularly liked one where she got me looking good.

"Seems like an ordinary photograph to me."

"Well, I'm the guy who still uses his high-school graduation portrait on Facebook."

"The shoemaker doesn't have shoes?"

"That and the fact that I don't use Facebook much. I like keeping up with my friends, but I post innocuous stuff. I wouldn't mention that I went on this picnic, for example."

"Or at least not the good parts," she was smiling as she swiveled the chair to face me.

"I've never seen anything like Helen and Francis," I confessed, feeling warm.

"You don't watch porn?" She sounded skeptical.

"That doesn't count, or at least it doesn't count with me. It's porn, everybody's got enormous, uh, you know . . . ," I fumbled.

"Cocks?" 

I blushed. "Well, yes."

"And tits?" 

This is getting deep. And you are getting hard.

"They do everything for the camera angles," I pontificated, although it was true. "Things we couldn't see when we were watching them."

"Helen was really into it." Janice licked her lips as we stood, facing each other. "Did you see how she was moving when she came?"

"Yeah, everything was really fly —"

I couldn't finish the sentence because Janice had pulled me to her and jammed her tongue into my mouth while she ground her crotch into mine. I kissed back in self-defense.

"Clothes," I croaked when we broke, and we frantically tore at each other. She was quickly naked from the waist down as I yanked her jeans and panties to the floor. She pulled my t-shirt over my head. 

I grabbed her hips, pulled her fuzzy pussy to my mouth, and began frantically fluttering her opening with my tongue. She moaned and wiggled her ass in my hands as I kneaded the cheeks. I had just started on her clit hood when she stiffened and hissed:

"Oh god yes, oh god yesssssss!"

She bent backward and crashed onto the bed. I followed, holding myself to her pussy as she writhed under my tongue's assault. She pulled my face into her.

"More! My clit! Oh yes, god that's gooooood! Oh GODDDD!" and she climaxed again, this time jamming her hips into my face.

As she settled, I started again, but she pulled me up beside her. She plastered her mouth to mine and kept me there as forcefully as she had held my face to her pussy, shoving her tongue into every crevice she could reach.

Finally she calmed enough to open her eyes. 

"I think I want more of that, but can we wait a week or two, while I recover?" she husked.

"I won't be able to restrain myself for another ten seconds unless I'm in you. Please!"

"Yeah, that's more like it. Let's really get naked," and she sat up. After opening my belt and unzipping me, she tapped my ass and said "up." I obediently lifted my hips and she stripped off my shorts and jockeys, tossing them to the floor. 

"Buck naked and proud of it, I see," she said, licking her lips.

She inhaled my cock, from which position it was easy for me to roll her shirt over her head and unhook her bra. She helpfully popped off my cock and straightened up, shrugging off the shirt and bra and flicking them away.

"Speaking of proud," I croaked as I palmed one pear-sized breast and tweaked the hardening nipple of the other. She ducked down to my cock again, sucked me almost to the root, then popped off with a smacking sound.

"Cowgirl," I commanded as I lay back. "I missed your clit last time."

"Yippee!" she said and gleefully positioned her pussy on the point of my cock, and started to drop down.

"No, no! Condom!"

"Oh god yeah, I forgot," and she pulled away. I stretched for the drawer and snagged one. She snatched it. 

"You're gonna like this," she said, as she tore the foil, then popped the latex into her mouth and rolled the thing down my shaft.

She was right.

Straightening up, she positioned her pussy again and was on me.

"Play with my clit! C'mon, bet I can make you cum before I do!"

My thumb was working before she finished the sentence. She had a distinct advantage because she'd already cum twice. And I'd been excited for ten minutes, not to mention the erotic unrolling of the condom.

It was going to be close.

She worked my cockhead aggressively, swinging her hips around it as I got her clit out from its hood and into action. I had my fingers good and wet and was tweaking the nipple of her left breast with my free hand when it occurred to me that I needed an edge.

I arched my back, driving her into the air far enough that I had to lose contact with her nipple. As we dropped down, I reached behind her and drove my middle finger about an inch into her ass.

"YIPE!" she yelled, and fell forward over my chest. I wiggled my finger and she went absolutely wild, churning her pussy on my cock as she swung her head and hips in abandon. 

Suddenly her hair bun gave way and it was like a blizzard — I couldn't see anything because her hair was all over my face. But there was this pussy attacking my cock. I kept up the wiggling with my finger, even moving in and out, as I pounded into her pussy.

It was no contest. She came, long and loud.

"Oh god oh god ohgod-ohgod-ohgod-OH GOD!" she bellowed as she stiffened and clamped me with her pussy muscles. I grunted my intentions pretty soon thereafter, just as she began slowing. 

"I'm cummming, so fucking good, I'm cuuuuuming! Oh Janice, I'm gonna cum in you!"

The mass of our bodies, locked in a sweaty embrace, heaving for breath, took a while to cool down. Finally, she rolled us to our sides and swept her hair from my sweaty face. As I felt myself soften, I reached for the ring.

"I can't believe this thing didn't melt," I teased.

"Wasn't for lack of trying, that's for sure," she teased back as I reached across her and dropped the sack into the wastebasket.

We cuddled, then drifted. Before I faded, I saw that it was after nine.

*

I woke to an empty bed and the muted roar of the toilet. She didn't notice that I was awake until I kissed her neck as she spooned in front of me.

"You free for breakfast?"

"What? Oh yes, I'd love to." I started to play with her nipples and she reached through her legs for my glazed cock. She had put her hair up in a ponytail.

"Kinda crinkly. Mind if I wash up?" I asked. I felt her smile and nod.

"Gotta keep your fluids up," I perked as I returned with the water pitcher and two glasses. We drank and refilled.

"Yeah, we both lost a lot, that's for sure." She patted the still-clammy sheets.

We kissed languidly and played with each other's chest.

"You have a good eye for photography. You should do it some more."

"Beginner's luck."

"I'm the one who got lucky," I leered at her. In response, she reached for my cock and stroked down over the head. 

"Maybe, but I got the benefit.

"Tell me," she said, her languid stroking getting me aroused, "do you always start out munching?" 

"I loved the way you reacted. There's something about your cumming first that turns me on." She had me hard enough that I groaned in pleasure as she bent forward and took me into her mouth.

She didn't draw it out, just worked the cockhead with her lips and hand and stroked my balls. She pushed me over the edge in less than ten minutes.

"Cumminig, I'm cuuuuuming, oh god, Janice, I'm cummmming!" and I arched up and pumped all that I had left into her mouth. When I finished, she pulled off and ran her thumb up the underside of the shaft, squeezing out the remaining cum. 

Ostentatiously, she swirled her forefinger around the tip, took it onto her tongue, and swallowed. Grinning, she presented herself for kissing and we sucked each other's tongues, sighed in contentment, and fell asleep.

*

I'll never tire of wakeup blowjobs. Janice was, like last night, workmanlike, efficient, and very good. She had gotten me hard before I realized what was happening.

This time she was on my right hip, her ass pointed alluringly at me. I briefly considered playing with her asshole but discarded the idea when I realized that the surprise could lead to unwanted consequences for my cock. So I contented myself with patting her cheeks.

"I thought I was going to be doing this alone. It's nice to have you join me," she said, pulling off but continuing to jack me.

"I like — oh god that is so gooood — to be around when I'm hard. It enhances — oh godddd yes — the pleasure," I gurgled as she returned to sucking. I gave her ass a few more light caresses, circled around the circumference, and ran my fingernails up her spine as far as I could. She purred, and I started to crest.

"Here it comes, oh god Janice, I'm gonna —" and I blasted into her mouth.

She cleaned me off with her tongue and we lay together, idly playing with each other. 

You barely noticed her at the show in the union. Yesterday she was the only one left, so it didn't matter whether there was attraction, you wanted to give Martha some space. But everybody else was getting laid. Admit it, you wanted it too, but she intimidated you.

So you took her home. Got her involved in the pictures. You're surprised when she jumps you, but flattered.

Didn't realize how long her hair was, what with the bun. It was fun when it let lose. Hangs down to the crack of her ass. It's thin. Nice breasts. 

God she loves to fuck. And suck. Notice her pussy? Aside from the obvious? Can't remember. It wasn't mangy, but wasn't bikini trimmed or shaved either. Seem to remember fuzzy.

All you wanted was to get laid. Okay, mission accomplished. Feed her cheerios and away she goes.

"You're thinking."

I panicked, not wanting to reveal what I was thinking. I blushed.

"I'm trying to figure out what to do. I invited you for breakfast but all I've got is cold cereal. Let's shower and we'll go out." We got up and headed for the bathroom. I handed her the shower cap that was on the hook of the bathroom door and watched as she folded her hair into it.

As the water streamed over us, I paid closer attention to her pussy. It was brown, same as her hair, and sparse, which is why it seemed fuzzy. I got her to turn around and I soaped her ass, even got her to bend over as I parted the cheeks. Her asshole was very handsome.

I was playing with her nipples as we dried each other, and they were just starting to firm when she kissed me.

"Carl, let's go to my place, we can eat there." She wrapped her hair into the bun and we dressed.

"My place" turned out to be a large sorority house, Delta Delta Mu, on the other side of the campus, almost a half hour away. It wasn't even nine when we walked through the front door. There wasn't a soul in sight.

"Wait here," she said, and headed down a hall, turned right, and disappeared. Three minutes later, she was back.

"C'mon, breakfast's ready."

"This is Mrs. McSorley," she presented, gesturing open-palmed toward a middle-aged woman in a pink apron. "She is the heart and soul of D-D-mew." 

"Hi, I'm Carl."

Mrs. McSorley tried but failed to suppress a knowing smile. "Hello," she said, "and welcome."

Turning to Janice, she said "You're sure scrambled eggs and bacon is enough? You'd do better at the second sitting."

"Ha! 'Second sitting.' You've only got 12 paying customers," she said as she pulled a quart of milk from the refrigerator, extracted two glasses from a cupboard, and plunked everything on the counter next to the eggs. Perching herself on a stool, she nodded me to sit next to her.

As we ate, two sleepy-eyed girls in bathrobes and bunny slippers ventured into the kitchen and greeted Janice as "Jan." She introduced me and they smiled, then took their toast and coffee and disappeared.

"Sorority housing living," she said. "Mrs. McSorley keeps order." She grinned conspiratorially and Mrs. McSorley grinned back. 

"We have 48 members, but only 10 of us are here this summer. We've taken in two boarders to make ends meet. It's a great place, I'll show you around when we're finished."

The layout of the house was pure center-hall colonial, just like home, only bigger, shingle-sided instead of brick, two stories with dog-house dormers.

The vestibule was oversized, with the staircase set back from the front door maybe 15 feet. On the left was the living room, with three floor-to-ceiling windows on the outside wall, carpeted, and the windows had floor-length drapes. There were several couches and chairs arranged in groups and the walls had paintings and group photos of the members from years past. At the end there was a wall with a door. "ΔΔμ" was lettered above it, modestly. 

"Chapter room, members only," she stage-whispered.

The dining room was wider but shorter than the living room, with two floor-to-ceiling windows and drapes. On the rear wall was a swinging door that led to the kitchen. 

"Bedrooms upstairs. Wanta see?" When I said yes, she led me up the stairs.

"Half doubles, half singles," she explained as we climbed the stairs. "MAN ON THE FLOOR!" she bellowed as we reached the landing and turned right. "We can accommodate 32. Biggest problem," she said as we walked down the hall, "is the bathrooms, there are only two." 

She opened a door. "All clear," she smiled and gestured me inside.

This," she waved, "is all girl: three sinks, lots of mirrors, private toilets, two shower stalls — which," she leered, "are two-person." She slid open a pocket door to reveal a small room with a tub.

"Other one's the same," she said as she walked me back toward the stairs. When we reached the landing, she turned to the right and opened a door. "And this is our common room."

There were half-a-dozen study carrels on the left wall, but the rest of the room was furnished with four clusters of wing chairs and floor lamps. There were two long tables with bankers' chairs and table lamps and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling, in the center of the room. Three large windows let in light and had a view of the back yard. The wall opposite the carrels was floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The whole place was painted dark green.

We settled into two of the very comfy wing chairs.

"After World War II there was this idealistic group of activist women that were determined to get women involved in social change. The idea was to establish residential cooperatives for women only at land-grant universities across the county. Everyone shared all the tasks of daily living, sort of a pre-1960s commune.

"Their first house was pretty ramshackle, but by 1956, when this place was built, they had attracted two wealthy left-wing benefactors and they spent $100,000 on this place. Eventually there were nineteen of these houses in nine states.

"They held public lectures on issues of the day, organized protests, wrote manifestoes. This chapter once broke up a state legislature hearing that was investigating opposition to the Vietnam war.

"But this kind of group living fell out of favor by the late 1970s and things got so bad that, even after taking in boarders, they couldn't pay the bills. The place closed in 1983 and the university took it over and boarded it up. 

"In the mid-1990s, Delta Delta Mu, a small national sorority whose ideals are social justice and saving the world, heard about the building and made a deal with the university and the founders to revive it. The university gave them the building and The Mew spent a ton of money for a complete renovation.

"We look at the national sororities and see mindless partying, zero interest in academics, and a focus on getting the M-R-S degree. With us, it's social engagement and academics. You have to do at least 30 hours a semester of community service and maintain a solid B average or we toss you out."

My head was spinning. "How long have you been a member?"

"I pledged two years ago, just before Christmas of my freshman year. My older sister had been a member and she recommended me. Because Alice had been vice-president, they seem to think I should help run the place, so I'm vice president for social activism and chair of the house committee."

"Show me your bedroom?"

She arched an eyebrow, then took a deep breath and let it out. "Back down the hall."

It had a generous closet, but otherwise was like any single room — desk, chair, dresser. 

Except for the double bed.

"Let me undress you," I said as she turned from locking the door.

"Oh yeah," she said, and walked us over to the small woven rug next to her bed.

I knelt and unclipped each sandal, then kissed the instep. As I stood, my hands traced up the backs of her legs to her ass cheeks. I gently squeezed each one and moved my face into the V of her legs. The whiff of her arousal, even through the denim, got my cock going, ably assisted by her soft "ohh" of encouragement at my nuzzling.

The sound and feel of her zipper splitting got my cock hardening even more. I slid her jeans down and lifted each foot out, tonguing the insteps again. She lost her balance after I got the second foot out, and she fell backwards, landing diagonally on the bed.

"You have this effect on me," she smiled, opening her legs.

"Up," I commanded, tapping her hip, and I quickly had her panties off.

"Down, feet on the floor." I opened her legs and moved onto her pussy, which was already wet.

This time I started by tonguing her clit. It was obligingly peeking out from the hood, long with a small nub. I pressed it hard against my teeth and she gasped, then pressed her thighs to my head. "So nice, sooooo nice." 




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 13



I slid a finger into her pussy and worked it slowly as I continued on her clit, sucking and rimming the nub. She rolled her hips slowly and I stole a quick glance: she had a hand under her shirt and her eyes were closed.

"Now, oh god now, oh goddddd, yes, yesssss," she moaned as I tongued ravenously at her clit. I was beginning to tire, so I pulled off her clit and began stroking it with my finger. As I drove a second finger deep into her pussy and fluttered, she erupted. 

"OH FUUUUUCK!" she bellowed as she levitated off the bed. The bun gave way again and her hair again flew all over as she thrashed around, glorying in her climax.

As she recovered, I stripped off my clothes and rolled her t-shirt up, fumbling behind her for the bra clasp. I knew she was back on earth when she sat up and gave me space to complete undressing her.

"Did I make a lot of noise?"

"I doubt if too many people are asleep right now."

She blushed. "I'm always lecturing about keeping it down, and now I go and break my own rule."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. That was the best I've had in a long time. Now," she said, "we are going to fuck and you will break the rule." She shifted and rolled on top of me.

"Wait, condom."

"I don't have any. You?"

"Wallet." I looked frantically for my shorts. She spotted them first, grabbed them, and fished out my wallet. I ripped the foil and slammed it on.

"In a hurry?" she perked.

" 'In' is the right word. Yes, god, I want to be in you so much," and I rolled on top of her as she obligingly spread her legs.

She guided me in and we began. I tried to stroke slowly, but lust took over and I was soon pistoning her. She hooked her heels around my ass and pulled me hard against her.

"Oh god Janice, I'm cumming, here I cum, oh-fuck oh-fuck oh-fuck ohhhhh fuuuuuck!" I whispered fervently, tight against her ear as I blasted everything I had into her.

I rolled us to the side and it was her turn to wipe the sweat away. 

It was after eleven when I woke. My cock was soft and condom-less, dry and pink. Janice, dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, was sitting in her chair. smiling.

"You showed a lot of self-control," she said.

"How? I don't remember trying."

"When you came, I expected you'd rattle the rafters, but you whispered. I mean, you were so quiet I'll bet half the girls think I'm all alone and yelled as I was pleasuring myself."

She lay next to me and drifted her finger through my chest hairs and around a nipple.

"We've got a meeting at one, to decide the program for the show, so you've got to get a move on," she said. 

I tried to pull her on top of me, but she resisted. "This has been wonderful, but duty calls. C'mon sailor, pull up your pants."

By the time we got to the front door and went our separate ways with mutual butt-pats, half-a-dozen girls had smiled in greeting. Two of them had smirked.

*

The long walk home allowed me time to clear my head.

Well, that was fun. Who knew? 

Margery got laid, by someone other than me or George. That's a plus, both for her and Tom. Hope they like each other enough to keep it up.

And Martha's on her way. Wonder if she'll nail Francis by show time?

Should we invite Tom to join the club? As what, a summertime-only member? Lisa and Carrie would benefit, and you could get rid of whatever guilt you have about not paying enough attention to them.

Lisa! God, when was the last time you talked to Lisa? It hasn't been since the interviews started. Wonder if she'll take the call?

*

"Carl! You have GOT to be psychic! I've been dying to tell someone! You're the first to know!"

It was after two. I'd showered, changed the sheets, and had finished sending the reminders out when I decided to take my chances and call Lisa.

"You won the Nobel Prize for Literature, like Obama won the Peace Prize, for your obvious possibilities?"

"Better! The New Yorker bought my story!"

Even I knew that The New Yorker was one very serious place to get published.

"It'll be published in their issue on new writers, in the winter! Oh Carl, I am so excited! This will lead to so many things! I am on my way!"

Her excitement drew me in. I wanted to reach through the phone and hug her.

"I'll bring champagne. See you in twenty minutes."

"Wonderful. But I can't get drunk. Gotta go to work in a couple hours."

*

The liquor store also sold ceremonial flutes, so we toasted in style.

Clink! "To success!" Clink!

"You know, I've never read one of your stories. Will you let me see this one? I mean, now that it's finished."

"Uh, sure, but, well, uh, there's an issue."

I waited.

"I, uh, based it on, uh, well, on, sorta, I mean — oh fuck, you'll see something of yourself in it, only heavily disguised."

"Wow. How? I don't see how."

"The photos you took last winter, outside Lit? The drunken students?"

"Sure. They were photos, though."

"And the captions I wrote?"

"Yeah?" I wasn't getting it.

"Well, as I was working on the captions, my mind went toward why you were there, what you were feeling, why you took them, how cold you must have been in the snow, all that stuff. Remember?"

"Yeah."

"So I just ran with it. The captions were from an early version of the story.

"It's about a lonely guy who's obsessed with this waitress in a bar but is too shy to talk to her. Instead he lurks outside, in the falling snow and the dark and the bitter cold, taking pictures of patrons as they leave, hoping somehow this will move her to notice him. 

"They find him the next morning, frozen stiff, in a snow bank."

"Is that what you think of me?" It didn't come out the way I meant it.

"No. Damn! I should have known this would happen. Damn fucking damn! Look, Carl, I didn't write about you, I mean, I wrote about the thoughts that your story tripped off in my mind."

"Let me see it," I said, coldly.

She printed out 14 double-spaced pages and handed them to me. 

"Can I keep this?" 

"No."

Sitting on the edge of her bed, I read in a daze. As she had outlined, the photographer was afraid of rejection, yearning for something he was certain he could never get. The camera was his defense, to avoid taking a chance. He died because he couldn't move beyond the obsession.

I dropped the pages into my lap, and Lisa's face came into focus. She was sitting upright in her chair, chewing her lower lip, waiting.

"Is this what you think of me?" I repeated.

"It's not about you, it's about what you invoked in my imagination."

"But I started it, telling you about that time."

"You're not the only person who's been in this position. Ask around the club, you'll hear stories. Ruth's got tons of them."

"Then why my story?"

"Ruth's are her stories, your story is mine. She and I have talked about anxiety, fear of getting close, rejection, loneliness, all that stuff. Your story gave me something to write about."

"Was I that bad?"

She joined me on the bed.

"I don't know, I wasn't there," she soothed, leaning into me. "The you I know asked me out and got me to go to bed with him."

She gently lowered me onto my back, lay down beside me, and moved her face close to mine. 

"Don't hate me, please. It's what we writers do. I spin from what I know, or hear about, or read about. You are the only person in the world who knows even the tiniest bit about how this story came into my head." She put her lips on mine, hopeful of a response.

Instead, I pushed her away and walked out.

She used you! She doesn't care about you! You're just a fuck, a diversion from her obsession with writing. Probably half the club has been grist for her mill. And the bar. And god only knows what else.

And just who doesn't use other people? You, champ, every time you fuck someone new, you don't think about her as a candidate for a relationship, do you? Nope, it's just sex. You haven't really cared about any of them. Admit it, you love having them respond to your attention. But you don't care.

Well, okay, maybe Cindy. But she put you in your place, didn't she?

And Martha. But that's easy. You know she's gone in a couple of weeks, on a path that won't ever cross yours again unless you buy her CD.

*

Ascheim's cell was answered by his service. "Dr. Ascheim is on vacation. He asked that his calls be referred to Dr. Braum. Can I have her call you?" I hung up.

*

"Who's there?" Lisa called out after my fourth knock.

"It's Carl. I was stupid. Can we talk?"

She was leaning against the wall at the head of her bed, her knees folded against her chest. I sat at the end, feet on the floor, and strung sentences together, trying to explain.

"The first time I realized that people were talking about me, saying things that weren't nice, I got so scared. They were telling stories, making stuff up, putting mean interpretations on innocent things I said or did. When someone told me what was going around, I was frantic. Even though I did the same thing to other people, it scared me that they were believing bad things about me."

"Authors look at life differently," she soothed. "We don't make up facts to hurt the people we depict. Characters aren't real people, they're composites. We take pieces from many sources and roll them into a story.

"I made up the part about the yearning, and the waitress. It got me tingly when I realized that I, the waitress, was the object. I wasn't, of course, because you'd never been inside Lit, and I'd never seen you. Nobody ever said anything about a guy lurking outside, taking pictures." 

I broke the silence.

"I'm sorry for what I said. It was stupid of me not to understand what you were doing. I should have asked, not reacted. Will you forgive me?"

She crept down the bed, took my chin in her hand, and kissed me softly.

"There's nothing to forgive. And yes, I will, I do."

*

Back in the apartment, I was still musing about Lisa and the story when Tom called. "You had dinner yet?"

"Nope, thinking about it, though."

"Good. I'll have the pizza delivered to your place. Half an hour?"

Tom and the pizza guy arrived simultaneously. He paid while I got the Sprites and we spread everything out on the coffee table. We chewed the first slices and made small talk. We'd started on the second round when he leaned back on the couch and sighed.

"You and Margery are friends, right?"

"Right."

"Good friends?"

"Yes."

"And you've dated?"

"Yeah, off and on, since the spring."

"But you're not involved, I mean, like, in a relationship?"

"No, friends is it. We like each other, have some things in common, and spend time together, when we can get the time, anyway."

After an awkward silence, Tom tried again.

"So you wouldn't, eh, care, I mean mind, if she and I, I mean, started going out?"

"No. I'm glad you and she hit it off."

"We had a great time at the picnic, and afterward. She has so much work to do, I don't know how we'll be able to see each other."

*

"Thank you." It was Monday, after work, Margery and I were in the Italian food court, decompressing. And it was only Monday.

"For?"

"Tom."

"You're welcome. Have a good time?"

"The best! But tell me, what makes you think he's superman?"

"What? I don't know what you mean."

"Eight condoms?"

"Oh, that," I blushed. "I, uh, didn't know who was going to end up with who, or even if. So I made up the envelopes, just in case you, or me, needed them. Was that okay?"

"Oh, that explains it. Yes, it was fine. You know I don't use them, never have, and I certainly don't have any. I was wondering, on the way back, how we were going to cope, since I wanted him to come to my room. You resolved what could have been a very awkward situation." She leaned over the table and kissed me on the lips.

We finished dinner and walked around the campus in the warm night air. 

"I followed up on your advice, by the way," she said. "Carrie had already hired someone, which turns out to be just as well, because Carlucci wants me to go full-time for her. Everybody's pushing her. She will speak to my professors about how this will impact my classes.

"The RA director won't let me quit. I think she doesn't have any backups. She said that they enforce the fraternization policy only when they get a complaint, but it's still the policy, no relationships between RAs and students in their dorm. I'm not going to jeopardize my career by hooking up with any of the kiddies. 

"So Tom is really important to me."

"Should we tell him about the club?"

"I was really up-front with him. I didn't tell him about the club, but I told him I live an open life, that I liked him and wanted to see more of him. He asked me if I was sleeping with you, and I said yes, but I emphasized that it was on a non-exclusive basis."

"I don't know Tom well enough to guess how he would take that," I said.

"He took it pretty well. He's had two relationships in the last three years but isn't ready to settle down either. He has to work all sorts of crazy hours to pay for his masters. He'll graduate next year, but right now he doesn't want to make a commitment. So we'll be fine.

"I'm not sure I want to introduce him to Lisa and Carrie right now. I want him for myself." She looked into her lap, demurely, then straightened up.

"This is all so new," she laughed nervously. "I barely dated in high school. Now I'm 21 and suddenly the club is a fading memory, and I'm thinking about how to juggle a couple of guys I like sleeping with."

*

Martha called just as the last Tuesday subject was leaving.

"Free for dinner?"

"Love to."

She looked a little stressed. "Charlie won't take charge. With Michael it was so much easier. He'd tell us what we were going to sing, made all the arrangements. Charlie's aloof, wants us to work things out among ourselves. We nearly had a slugfest on Sunday, but we got a compromise worked out. Or did until Monday, when Helen and Mike got into a huge fight over 'too much Bill Monroe.' It got ugly.

"Everybody calmed down after lunch, and your buddy Janice pulled us all together. She —"

"My 'buddy?' "

"Don't be coy. Yes, your buddy. We all loved the pictures, and she explained how you two selected them. Lit's already made up the poster for its front window and they've plastered flyers all over campus. 

"And I'll bet every one of us, certainly me, already has their photo on their Facebook page." She smiled, and I preened.

"One of the things we've decided is that we're gonna feature her fiddle in the show. She's really into bluegrass and Charlie says there are lots of ways to work it in. What with me, Helen, Mike, and him singing, we'll have one kickin' show."

It was still light as we arrived at the apartment. We left our sandals by the door and I followed her into the bedroom.

"Oh, I've got something for you," she said, pulling a folded paper from her shorts. It was her STD report, announcing negative results on every test. She was grinning when I looked up.

"Thank you," I said softly as I pulled her to me. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"And you have no idea how much this means to me," she said as she rubbed my cock through my shorts. She unzipped me, popped the button, and had everything on the floor and my cock in her mouth before I could respond.

I yanked my shirt off and she popped off my cock. "I'm going to blow you standing up, if you can handle it," she leered, and sucked me back into her mouth. I reached for the dresser to steady myself as she began to bob.

After a bunch of deep strokes, she focused on my cockhead, swirling her tongue around it, pulling off, then going deep again. When I was breathing hard and starting to feel really excited, she pulled off again.

"C'mon, cum, cum in my mouth," she crooned as she jacked me. 

It was too much.

"I'm cumming Martha, I'm gonna CUUUUM! OH GOD!" and I pumped my hips at her face as I let loose with my load.

"Ummmm" she hummed and sucked everything down.

As she finished, I felt light-headed and lost my balance. She grabbed my hips and spun me toward the bed. I barely made it.

Somehow she got her shorts off, because suddenly her pussy was on my face. "Eat me! Fuck me with your tongue!" she demanded. "Make me cum!"

I licked, I sucked, I held her ass steady as I recovered and got into it. She was humping against me, supporting herself with her hands as she ground her pussy into my face. I found her clit and sucked it into my mouth, then pressed the nub against my teeth.

"OH GOD YESSSS, that's so good! Eat me, do it HAAARD!" she commanded. My tongue was getting tired, but I had to keep up with her. 

Suddenly she leaned back, stiffened, and bellowed — FUUUUCK! Oh my god yes, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" and she jammed her pussy wildly on my face.

Finished, she collapsed, then rolled off to the side. I was so close to being entirely gone that I let her go. Eventually I shifted so that we were face to face.

"You could kill a girl with your tongue, you know," she groaned.

"I never knew a piece of paper could be so erotic."

"You care that much?" She said, when she was breathing more calmly.

"I'm surprised. I was thinking about this the other night. The afterglow, when we're still joined, I don't like to have to remember to take care of the condom. I like to touch you, feel our heat fade away, and let my cock get soft and slide out. It's kinda selfish, I guess, but having to take care of the thing, it breaks the mood. Is that too lame? And shallow?"

"I never thought about it. You're my first condom-user, so I'm in learning-about-condoms mode."

She still had her shirt and bra on, so I pulled them over her head and they joined her shorts and panties on the floor.

"Where'd the verbal tiger thing come from?"

"Like it?"

"Oh yeah, but I wasn't expecting it."

"This has been one amazing two months," she said. "I break up with Michael, come to a place I've never heard of, to take music lessons from someone I've never heard of either. I arrive with a fantasy that he'll make me his lover and turn me into a star. Instead I find you and discover that everything I know about sex is, well, not wrong, just so limited.

"You taught me and then you let me go. Not like Michael, he wanted sex and control. I'm learning so much, so fast, it's like I'm re-inventing myself from a girl into a woman. It's scary, but I know it's the right thing to do.

"At the picnic, I wasn't sure whether it would be Evan or Francis, but when Evan sat next to me on the blanket, I figured, 'luck of the draw.' They're both nice guys.

"I started with the back rub because Michael got turned on by them. Evan leaned back into me, so I knew he was enjoying it. When Nick offered the tour and you and Janice took off, the four of us sang a couple of songs we knew. I saw that Helen and Francis were looking antsy, I think they were waiting us to leave, but Evan and I were getting into the back rub pretty good, so finally Helen grabbed a blanket and they took off.

"I rolled Evan onto his belly and straddled him. I pushed his shirt up and he reached back and pulled it off. I really got into kneading his arms and back. After a while he was moaning and I lifted up so he could turn over. 

"Of course his cock was pushing his shorts out, like it was with Michael. He pulled me onto him and grabbed my ass and humped me, and I humped back. He pushed my shirt up and unhooked my bra, then slid his hands underneath and was squeezing my nipples just right.

"I got off him, pulled his zipper down, and he arched up so I could get his pants off. His cockhead was purple! I mean, not dark red, but purple! I must have been staring, because he reached down and wiggled it at me!

" 'You'll like it. Let's get you naked,' he said, and I realized that my shirt and bra were just hanging there. I tossed them away and he pushed me onto my back and jerked my shorts and panties down.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 13



"He was on top of me, kissing my nipples and rubbing his cock against my pussy. 

" 'Condom, we have to use a condom,' I remembered to say. 

" 'Oh yeah, sure,' and he pulled it out of his wallet. He slapped it on real quick, then got between my legs and began pushing at my pussy. I grabbed it and put it into position, and he shoved in.

"Hearing myself say this, it sounds awful, but it wasn't. It was just daring — so fast, so surprising! I mean, we're out in the open, there are eight people who could appear any second and catch us, but I wanted it.

"He was pumping real hard and I gave him everything I had. His eyes were closed, just like Michael's, and he was just pounding away.

"I said 'oh god' a couple of times as I got into it, but that was all. He wasn't saying anything, just pumping.

"I knew he was getting close, so I swiveled my hips against him and grabbed his shoulders. He grunted 'fuck!' a couple of times, and then he came. He landed on me, sucking air.

"He was heavy, so I was glad when he rolled us onto our sides, and we stayed connected. I hadn't cum, but I figured I was distracted, worrying about someone finding us. I humped at him a couple of times but he said 'Stop! I can't, it's too much!'

"We just lay there, maybe for fifteen minutes, then he said we had to get dressed. When you guys arrived, we'd barely finished.

"When we got to his room, I expected it would be different. I'd be more relaxed, we'd build slower. I tried to get him to eat me, but he said it was gay. We did it again and I asked him to go slower, then faster, and he did, but I still didn't cum.

"When I realized that I wasn't going to cum, I decided to fake it. 'So fucking good, so good,' and 'oh yeah, put it to me,' like some porno star. 

"He rolled off of me after he came and kissed me. 'God you're good, babe, that was great.'

"The third time he got a little more playful and finally I got an orgasm. When I was cumming I must have been saying things, but I don't remember what. He just said 'fuck, so fucking good, fuck, fuck,' as he came.

"In the morning we did it again, but I had to fake it. In fact, I made a real production of it. 'Put that sausage in me,' 'Oh god you're too big,' 'I'm gonna cum, you're making me cum,' all that stuff. 

"What finished it off was that he kept calling me 'babe.' He never said my name. 

"We had breakfast in the union and I excused myself to go back to my dorm. He was okay with that."

I lay quiet, just stroking her hip as she finished.

"Is this how most guys act?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. You've described someone I can't relate to. Somehow I've gotten the idea that I should give satisfaction before I take mine. And I love knowing that I'm doing a good job of giving you pleasure. I mean, how do you not try to connect with the girl?"

"That's what I love about you, Carl," she said, and kissed me in a more than idle way. She stroked my cock as she sucked my tongue into her mouth. I reached for her breast and twisted the nipple as she worked my cock into hardness.

She pushed me onto my back, swung herself into position, and sank onto my cock. She began rising and falling. I was hard and willing.

"Ride me, Martha, I want your clit, please," I begged.

"Yippee! Cowgirl! Want me to roll a condom on you?"

"Fuck that!" I growled. "No way! We're doing this bareback!" 

I was thumbing her clit as she got into it. Her long, deep strokes alternated with squeezing the head of my cock as I moaned and played with her clit. Then we got serious.

"Ride me, ride me, make me cum!"

"You bet! You're gonna cum, so am —" and she stiffened, arched her back, and began thrashing around my pole as I furiously pushed in and out of her.

"Yes! Yes! I am cumming! Oh yesssss!" and she got there. 

She slumped forward, positioned herself over me, and churned my cock. "C'mon Carl, cum, I want to feel it, hose me down! Oh yeah, I feel it, you're cumming, DO IT!"

I came, and came, and came. And collapsed, exhausted, pulling her sweat-soaked body onto mine. We slumped to the side, kissed, and drifted.

When I woke, she was snoring quietly beside me. I headed for the bathroom, peed, cleaned up, and brought the warm facecloth and a hand towel back.

"Good," she said, tucking the towel under herself as she sat up against the headboard. She opened her legs to let me swab her thighs and pussy. "I really do hate the wet spot."

After I rinsed the cloth, I brought the water pitcher and two glasses back. She had pulled her legs up against her chest and clearly had been thinking. She took a long drink.

"Did I do a good job?"

"You're a great lover, you know I think that. Were you faking the orgasm?"

"I don't have to fake it with you. No, I mean the verbal stuff. I'm working at being a sexual tigress. Also Ms. Verbal. You didn't notice? You couldn't have shut me up if you wanted to."

"Well, the tigress thing sure worked."

"You liked it?"

"Absolutely. I've never had a standing blowjob before. You see them on pornos, but they stop after the guy cums. You were really kind to keep me from fracturing my skull when my knees got wobbly."

"And verbal? Did I say the right things at the right time?"

"You were reacting to me, encouraging me, you let me know what was working. I loved it! So long as I'm getting feedback when we're fucking, the exact words aren't important. If you started screaming the periodic table, maybe that wouldn't work, but when you said 'hose me down' I kicked it into higher gear."

"When Even and I were making love in his room, I worked at saying things to encourage him, not that he needed it. He got pretty wild, but I don't think he needed it, or cared.

"I've decided he's a pig. He didn't make any real effort for me, just stuck it in and came on his own. He's a nice enough guy, but there is no way I'd go to bed with him again."

"Is that going to cause trouble in your group?"

"I doubt it, but I really don't care. Once we do the show we're just six students in a class. I'm hoping Francis and Charlie will be better. And maybe there will be somebody else before I leave town."

"Let's sleep on it," I said, and we spooned.

*

It was just dawn when I woke, needing to pee. When I got back to bed, Martha shifted and I kissed her ass. She moaned softly and pushed against me. I reached around her and started playing with her nipple, and slowly it got harder. 

She slid her hand between her legs and fumbled for my cock. Slowly, her hand stroking the head, she got me semi-hard. I lifted myself over her and nibbled her earlobe.

"Ummmm, so nice."

I stuck my tongue in her ear and she squealed. As I kept playing with her nipple, she shifted, let go of my cock, and just lay back, taking the pleasure.

Her breasts were so soft, so inviting. I descended on the left one and licked around the nipple. I kissed my way across its diameter.

"Like that, please don't stop," she said when I had to break for breath.

I moved to her other breast and began to languidly finger her pussy and clit, which were getting wetter as we went. I knew she was getting close when she clenched her legs on my hand and started swirling her hips.

"Cum for me, Martha, cum hard," I whispered.

"Oh yes, god, oh yesssss, I'm CUMMMMMING!" and she bucked against my hand as I fluttered my finger in her pussy and palmed her clit. She rolled onto me and rained kisses on my face.

"Just the way I like it. God Carl, you are so nice!"

"Thank you for encouraging me. I wasn't sure you wanted me to do it."

"In the beginning, Michael and I, the first couple of months, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. After class, before dinner, after dinner, when we went to bed, when we woke up at night, morning handjobs, god we were animals! 

"By the end of the year, half the time we wouldn't make love. Saturdays and Sundays maybe I'd wake him up with a handjob or maybe we'd make love, but that was it. It was getting routine when the troubles hit."

"Speaking of waking up," I said hopefully. 

"You want a blowjob or the full monty?"

"Sex please, missionary, full verbal."

She slid down and took my semi-soft cock into her mouth. It was amazing how fast she got me hard.

"C'mon stud," she said, popping off of my steely hardness, "turn me into a pool of exhausted protoplasm."

When I was in position, ready to move forward, she grabbed my cock and jammed her pussy onto it, pulled me down on her, and locked her legs around me. 

"Fuck me hard! Give me what you've got!"

I was pumping in an instant, my eyes locked onto hers. She swung her ass around, humped against me as I stroked, and dug her nails into my back.

Animal lust begat animal lust. First I got up on all fours and she suspended herself below me, swinging her hips and humping me. I was getting really excited, so I dropped us down onto the bed, pulled her legs off me, and just pounded her. I thought she'd beg me to stop, but she kept saying "oh yeah, oh yeah" and banged her pussy against every one of my thrusts.

"I'm cumming! Oh god, oh god!" I ground my pelvis against her, trying to fill every crevice of her pussy with cum. I didn't do a bad job of it.

I was exhausted when I rolled off, gasping. As I lay there I felt her mouth on my cock.

"I'm gonna clean you up. Like you said, leave no cum unswallowed." I was too spent to do more than pat her head as she licked me clean.

"That was good, really good," she said when I fluttered my eyes. "C'mon now, shower time, then food, you have to get to work."



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 14



Wednesday's interviews were routine and when Anna arrived on Thursday morning, I told her that I knew one of the day's subjects.

"You didn't explain what we are looking for, did you?"

"No. Actually, I just met her. The only person I've ever talked to about the project in any detail is working for the summer in a lacrosse camp in her home town. She thought the research might be useful if you were a card shark."

We set the cycle so that Anna did the interview with Janice. The "kill a puppy" question hit her hard for some reason, but Anna recovered nicely and finished the interview easily. Afterward, as Janice was signing the receipt, I asked her how rehearsal was going.

"Really good. Charlie is in his element. We went to Literratica yesterday, to see what the space was like, lighting, mikes, all the mechanical stuff. It's tight for seven people, smaller than the stage we played at the union. It seems like the place is more appropriate for one or two people at a time, not a group. I hadn't even thought about these issues."

There was a knock on the door and a guy opened it.

"Is this Dr. Branstead's office?" he asked, flustered because it obviously wasn't.

"Nope, he's on the second floor," I said.

"Oh, sorry, thanks," he apologized, and backed out, closing the door.

"Anyway," she continued, "it's gonna be like musical chairs. So Charlie wants to group the songs, so that we're not moving on and off the stage all the time. We've had to dump one song because it didn't work into the rotation." She sighed. "This is so not like classical music."

After work, when I got home, there was an e-mail from Ruth.

I'm extending the vacation for three more weeks! It's been so great, we're going on another river cruise, to Russia! Take care of the car.

*

"Ruth hasn't taken real time off since Stuart was killed," confided Amanda as we ate our wraps in the library's cafeteria. When I'd called in the morning, she said she'd gotten a similar e-mail from Ruth, and we decided to meet during our lunch breaks.

"It took four years for the insurance, the lawsuits, the construction on the house, everything, to get finished. She just immersed herself in work, there, here, and then she got started doing the appellate briefs. Then there was the club. But for, oh, the last 18 months, she's been feeling lonely," Amanda sighed. 

"Being the community crying towel takes a lot out of you. When the idea of the river cruise came up, I encouraged her to go, take some of her accumulated vacation time. She was reluctant, but she needed to get away from this place."

You'd never thought of Ruth as having a life outside of the club, have you? Like mom and dad. Or grandma. Or Chrissy. Well, maybe not Chrissy, she rubbed your nose in it sometimes.

"So is there something I should be doing, or Margery and me, to help?"

"I don't know. We'll see when she gets back. But I am glad that you and Margery are getting into making the club tick. I've been thinking about you two, wondering if things are okay."

"Margery takes on too much. Her prof, classes, the RA job, we talk a couple of times a week, get together at least once a week for dinner and —" I stopped, realizing I was about to go too far.

"Good! I know she's got a lot on her plate. You're a good friend not to neglect her.

"And Lisa? And Carrie?" She seemed to know a lot about everybody.

"Lisa's like a locomotive, just keeps charging ahead, writing, working, and writing some more. I haven't seen her enough. Carrie, yeah, her too." I was not liking where this was going.

"Other, uh, distractions?"

I couldn't help it. "Six months ago I didn't have friends, all I did was jerk off and obsess about my photographs. Now I feel like I have too many responsibilities, lots of activity but no direction."

"But you're getting laid?"

I blushed at her bluntness. "Well, uh, yeah," I admitted. "But everything's got strings. I'm coming and going " — Amanda hooted — "I don't know if I'm made for this kind of life."

"You're doing fine. And so is Margery. Keep being a friend."

*

"70 down, 80 to go," said Anna, as we ushered out the last subject on Friday.

"Is it always gonna be like this? Log 'em in, play with their heads, pay 'em, then send 'em on their way?"

"Yeah, like you're the madam of a reverse whorehouse, eh?" She scooped the pages of her script into their folder, straightened the chair, and we locked the door. There would be no interviews tomorrow, since it was the Saturday of the Fourth of July weekend and there were no classes. The only person who had signed up for Saturday had realized her mistake and re-booked.

"What're you gonna do this weekend?"

"Saturday night there's the bluegrass show at Lit that I told you about." On Thursday, when I'd explained how I knew Janice, I'd told her about the concert. "I'm not even bringing my pocket camera, it's not cool to distract the audience by taking pictures. I don't have plans for Sunday."

"Well, I can think of one thing you could do," she leered. 

Actually, I did have that in mind: tonight was catch-up night with Carrie. Her cell had gone straight to voicemail when I'd called on Wednesday morning, but she called back and we'd decided to have dinner on Friday. 

"I've got things under control," Carrie bubbled as we walked off our dinner, through town, then along the river, eventually looping back to my apartment. 

"My English prof decided to re-schedule to mornings, so I've got the afternoon completely free for the food stands and I don't have to work on Fridays. Saturdays and Sundays are great! We get the game in before it gets too hot, I check in at the food stands, and then it's SOL till midnight.

"Oh, and I forgot to tell you! Lisa Fernandez's Touring All-Stars team is coming to town!"

"That's terrific. I think. Who's Lisa Fernandez?"

"She's just the greatest softball player of all time, that's who! Deadly pitcher, zero-point-zero ERA. She led the American team when it won the gold medal in the 2000 and 2004 Olympics. When she got out of college, she played pro ball, got married, had a baby, now she coaches at UCLA. 

"She set up this touring team to raise money for charity. They field five players against our nine. They'll probably kick our ass, but man!" — her eyes were blazing — "I'm gonna bat against Lisa Fernandez!

"I'm hitting over .400 this summer. My strength coach says my shoulders and arms are just about right, and I'm getting off the throw a lot quicker. The first baseman says the ball comes in flat, too, which is good."

Thanks to the humid night, we had worked up a sweat on our walk, so our lips were wet and ready when we kissed after shucking our sandals inside the apartment door. As I locked the bedroom door and turned, Carrie was standing at the end of my bed. She launched a pre-emptive, super-charged kiss.

I reciprocated of course, pulling her ass into my crotch and grinding my erection into her shorts-clad pussy. When we broke for air, she pulled her shirt off and I was on her zipper before she finished. I could smell her arousal through the shorts.

"This is gonna keep me going for a week," she said as I pulled off her panties. I hungrily fluttered my tongue on her pussy lips, then pushed it between them as she moaned her approval. I saw her bra fly by as she opened her thighs and pulled me into her. 

"Make me cum, Carl, make me cum. I haven't — ohhh yes, that's it, ohhhh." She humped her pussy into my face as I was resumed fluttering my tongue around her lips. I found her clit out and flicked it.

And off she went! "Oh god yes, yes, do it, you're making me, oh god, I'm cumming, oh godddd yesssss!" Her knees buckled and she fell back onto the bed. I got out of my clothes as fast as I could and joined her.

"C'mon now, let's go for a ride!" she said as she grabbed my cock and pulled it toward its destination. She'd trimmed her pussy so there were no stray hairs to impede my entering, and I was balls-deep in two strokes.

"Ohhhh goddddd, yesssss," she groaned as we stroked against each other. We were both completely sweaty and her breath was ragged as our bellies slapped, building to our climaxes.

"I'm gonna cum Carrie, oh god am I gonna CUMMM!" I announced, unnecessarily loudly.

"Me first! Fuck me, keep on fucking me! Push it in, fuck — oh yeah, you, I'm, OH GODDDDD!" and she gripped me with her thighs, bucking, jerking, her fingers nailing my shoulders to her chest.

We drained the water pitcher as we lay beside each other, savoring the damp sheets and each other's chests. 

"I like these," I said, running my fingers across her shoulders and arms. They were much stronger, even I could see that, the muscles firm and prominent.

"Notice anything else?"

"Your tan stops at your jersey, so, let me check," and I rolled her onto her belly. "Nope, no nude sunbathing." I kissed both her ass cheeks.

"Nope, you missed it, it's on the front," she giggled, sitting up and cupping her breasts. "The strength training has firmed up my chest, too, so I've had to go out and buy new bras. They're the same breasts, but they stick out more."

"Is that a problem, I mean on the field? They're not a problem here," I said as I kissed each nipple.

"Well, I'm just on the edge, where they can interfere when I pivot on the double play. I got a stronger sports bra, and I think it'll be okay.

"Fernandez's team is barnstorming around the country. They play five, six days a week, they travel in this elaborate bus, like they're a rock band. They're gonna pull in Friday night, two weeks from now, and we'll play them in the afternoon on Saturday and again after dinner.

"The university got sticky about letting us use the varsity field, but Lisa's a DRAW! We were gonna have volunteers sell the tickets, but the union wants the work, and I can't say I blame them. I got SOL to front the guarantee. If necessary, they'll donate 25% of their food-sale gross, but with decent weather we should cover the guarantee, even with paying the ticket-takers and cleanup."

"Need an official photographer?"

"Your photos from when you came to the game were pretty good, and I hear you're making a specialty of publicity photography," she said innocently.

"Who —" I started to ask.

"Lisa. She said you did this really great picture for the group that's playing tomorrow night at Lit. She brought over the flyers, so I asked her who did the picture, and she said it was you."

"I'm flattered."

 And a little nervous. These two talk about me?

"Don't be, but you're good. You got the job."

"Thanks, And speaking of jobs, how's yours?"

"I like being in management. Slinging drinks six nights a week, even if it's a juice bar, is tough. I've been getting leg cramps more often, so being able to cut down to just weekends is fine with me.

"The food stands are a gold mine! Even with payroll, we're raking it in. I'm making more than when I worked weeknights. And I think I can send $75 a month to mom. 

"My brother Bob — I told you about him, right? — he got a promotion, and he's moved mom into a nice apartment." Carrie's father had taken off when she was 10 and she came to college after growing up in a trailer park.

It wasn't late, but the exercise of the walk and the sex was taking its toll. I nodded.

"I wore you out? You're getting old, Carl," she teased.

"Don't remind me," I groaned. "I'll be 20 on the fourteenth."

"Goody! A birthday party."

*

Carrie's version of a wake-up blowjob had evolved to where she spread herself out, leisurely sucking just my cockhead until it was partially erect, then fondling my balls and jacking me until it was time to go deep. She was doing this when I woke up, at which point it was hands, lips, tongue, and occasional rake of her front teeth that got me to blast the over-night accumulation of cum into her.

This morning was no exception.

"You save all that for me?" she asked as her tongue scooped the last of my explosion from the roof of her mouth.

"You snuck up on me," I gasped. "I'm not sure I'll have enough energy for you in the shower."

It turned out that I did. We washed each other until we were pink, ending up with Carrie squeezed into the corner with her legs wrapped around my hips as I pounded into her. We washed again, then wandered into the kitchen.

"Is this it?" she scornfully surveyed the contents of the refrigerator, which were milk, two six-packs of Sprite, and a half-finished container of store-brand yogurt.

"I get the milk and the Sprite, but what's this for?" She disdainfully held up the yogurt.

"Nutrition," I brazened.

"You eat out a lot, eh?"

"As often as I can when you're around," I leered, and moved in on her.

Carrie squealed as I lifted her onto the counter and spread her legs. We'd washed her pussy enough so that I wasn't eating my own cum, and I set to work with my tongue on her clit. She leaned back and absorbed the pleasure. As I was flicking her clit and pussy lips furiously, she leaned forward and squeezed my head with her thighs, bucked against my face, and roared "OH GODDDD! I'M CUMMING SO HARD, SO FUCKING GOOD! FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUCK!"

I helped the temporarily exhausted infielder stagger back to the bedroom, spread her and her long blonde hair out, and slid down beside her, caressing her belly and soaking up her warmth.

We dozed.

I felt Carrie jerk alert, then lift her head and peer over my shoulder at the clock radio. Satisfied, she slumped back and kissed my cheek. "I gotta be at the field by nine for warm-ups," she informed me.

"What time is it?"

"After eight."

"15 minutes to your dorm and change, 15 minutes to the field. That leaves —"

"15 minutes for another shower so I don't stink of sex. C'mon, Carl, I gotta leave some energy for the game."

*

I'd only been to one show at Lit, when I introduced Martha to Lisa and they'd made the connection that led to this performance. Now I was with Margery and Tom and we were meeting up with Nick, Mike's squeeze. Maureen, the PR intern that Charlie had taken up with, completed our group. We pushed two tables together.

A guy sat down at the next table and I thought I recognized him, from somewhere.

"Hi. You're Carl, right?"

"Right. And you're . . ."

"Paul," and he stuck out his hand. "We met here, couple of weeks ago. They seated you at our table. Brunch. You took some pictures. Mom loved 'em."

"Oh, yeah, now I remember. Hey, sit with us." I introduced Paul to everyone and he took the last chair.

"You guys into bluegrass?" he asked.

It was the perfect opening, and Nick jumped on it. "We're with the band," he grinned, and we all laughed. Maureen explained the situation and gave a quick explanation of the how the group was formed, as though that's what it was. 

We had burgers and it was getting close to show time when Tom's cell went off.

"Dumb bastards!" swore Tom as he slapped his phone shut. "The surge protector in one of the racks burned out and half the campus is down. And I'm the one who's on call." He stood and stroked Margery's cheek.

"This is probably going to take all night. I'm sorry."

Damn. Now you're responsible for her. You were hoping to take Martha home. Ah well, not the worst thing to ever happen in your young life, sleeping with Margery.

The lights dimmed and Charlie came on stage, to polite applause. The spotlight was flattering and he seemed comfortable. 

"Hi, I'm Charlie Waddington and these are my friends. We're a bunch of musicians who think bluegrass is about as good as music can get."

And so for the next two hours, Charlie shuffled players on and off the small stage. He featured everyone in some way. The finale, Charlie and Martha doing "Tennessee Flat-top Box," was perfect. The whole show came across as very casual, but I could tell how structured Charlie had made it.

The place pretty much cleared out afterwards, so we pushed a couple more tables to ours as the seven players joined us. 

The owner, Jerry, came by and congratulated everyone. "You guys really ought to turn pro," he said. "For a summer holiday weekend, we probably had double the number of customers than we usually get." 

The band's "pay" was a round of beers, which Lisa brought over. When they were gone, Charlie ordered a round of tequila shots. The original seating soon changed, as different people headed off to the bathroom and conversations got deeper.

In retrospect, downing the tequila in one gulp was probably not the best decision I've ever made. 

By the time Jerry came to tell us they were closing, Martha and Mike were accompanying themselves as they and Paul roared out Irish ballads, Flatt and Scruggs, Bill Monroe, pretty much anything they knew. Sometime during the reverie, Charlie and Maureen, and then Helen and Francis, slipped away. Nick, Evan, Margery, Janice, and I were an appreciative audience.

*

Whether I lay still or tried to flutter my eyelids, the headache had me begging for death. Luckily enough, someone had had the foresight to close the curtains. I was alone in my bed, jockeys only, in the dark, and I needed to pee. Each footstep sent an unwelcome shock to my brain, and by the time I got to the bathroom I also needed to throw up.

The retching did nothing to refresh me, and the throbbing wasn't diminishing, so I stepped into the tub and turned on the shower. The hot water was soothing, so after 15 minutes I was able to wring out my underwear, dry off, and unsteadily return to my room. 

Where I found Janice, sitting at the top of the bed, knees folded against her chest, grinning.

"I'm from the Women's Christian Temperance Union and I'm here to help you," she said, soberly.

"That is so not funny," I grumbled. "What time is it?"

"Nine o'clock. Feel better?"

"Compared to what?" I grumped. I was naked, damp, and didn't feel like discussing any of my recent accomplishments. I also didn't remember much about last night, but Janice's presence suggested that I had not covered myself with glory. What I really wanted to do was pull the pillow over my head and sleep.

"Come here, let me help you." She patted the bed beside her.

I flopped face down and she began by working my temples with her fingers. When I'd relaxed enough, she switched to kneading the back of my head and down my neck.

The whistle of the tea kettle and the smell of strong tea woke me. Happily enough, I didn't feel the need to throw up again. I was a lot steadier when I made it to the kitchen.

"Feeling any better?" she chirped as I leaned against the wall, clutching my bathrobe around me. She offered a cup of very strong hot tea and we moved to the couch.

She had on the shirt I remembered her wearing last night, but the jeans were gone, and she was barefoot.

"How bad was I last night?"

"Well, if it wasn't for the fact that I like you, you'd have been dumped in one of the less-attractive parts of town. The taxi driver followed your inept directions all over for 20 minutes because you couldn't remember your address. When I finally ransacked your pants for your driver's license, you resisted and screamed 'rape.' We finally got here, but you didn't have enough money for the fare. You owe me ten bucks." 

"So I'm a cheerful drunk?" I ventured, not really wanting to hear any more details.

Her eyes blazed. "No! You're a fucking stupid drunk! You either learn to hold your liquor or you learn to say 'no' when somebody offers you 80-proof alcohol. And buying the second round was unspeakable."

You bought a round of tequila?

I really wanted to break the tension with a change of subject.

"Was the show as good for you guys as it seemed to us? I mean, was it a success?" I remembered Jerry-the-owner saying something about turning pro.

"It was." Maybe I was off the hook. 




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 14



"We probably put in 50 hours of rehearsal, and we were changing things up to last minute. Once we'd settled on the songs and which went in which set, Charlie took over and integrated everything. Bill Monroe, Flatt and Scruggs, Johnny Cash, he arranged everything so that it made sense that mandolins and guitars were there."

"It seemed like you and your violin were there too, in almost every song."

"Well, not every one, but probably two-thirds," she blushed, her eyes looking down. "It seems a lot more bluegrass-ey when you have the fiddle around."

I felt safe enough to return to last night.

"How much of an apology do I owe you and the others for whatever happened? I'm afraid I don't remember it, and certainly not the round of tequila."

"Not a lot. You withdrew when the alcohol hit you. I don't know what got into you, ordering that round. Mike and Martha joined you, so you probably owe them the apology.

"Mike's dorm was close enough that Nick could walk him home, but you and Martha got so wasted that Lisa insisted on calling cabs. Paul was stone cold sober, so we had him take Martha to her dorm, and I drew you, once Margery and Evan took off."

I put my hand on her knee. "So are you doing anything this afternoon?"

Janice removed my hand, squirmed around to face me, and pulled her legs up under her. Then she fixed me with a very hard stare.

"I am free. And I will spend it with you. But we have to get something straight.

"I hate drunks. My father's been a recovering alcoholic since before I was born, and it's a struggle. My last boyfriend was a serious drinker, which I didn't know it until we got involved. I don't think you're like either of them, but I have to tell you that it will be over if you ever again do what you did last night."

LAST boyfriend?

"I was afraid of drinking when I was in high school," I confessed. "I saw a couple of people when they were roaring drunk. One guy I knew was killed in a car wreck where the driver weaved off the road and hit a tree.

"Sprite's my thing. I've been at a couple of parties where I've had one beer, and I've been out to dinner a couple of times where I've also had a single beer. Nothing like what went on last night has ever happened to me, ever. And I don't want it to, ever again."

"Alcohol's a slippery slope," Janice soothed. "Sometimes it gives you a rush of reduced inhibition, sometimes it's the escape from a situation you don't want to be in. I think last night for you was just macho, but I don't get why you bought the tequila. Charlie shouldn't have started it, but everybody was of age, so it wasn't evil, probably just thoughtless."

"I just don't remember buying the tequila. When did it happen?"

"When Charlie and his teenybopper left, and the singing got going, you made a big deal about calling your friend the waitress over and tried to get everyone to say 'yes,' but only Mike and Martha did. When it came, you proposed a toast to the success of the show and tossed it back."

"I just don't understand it." I was puzzled and felt small, admitting this to Janice.

"Well, you've got to think about it."

I couldn't think of anything more to say. Finally, I tried.

"Can we, I mean, will you —"

"Yes," she said, standing, and as she did the bottom of her shirt opened enough for me to see her panties. She extended her hand and swung me up, and we walked to the bedroom.

My head wasn't throbbing any more, but I wasn't one-hundred percent functional either. Still, I was getting hard underneath my robe, and the sight of Janice's ass ahead of me helped.

We kissed, the ardor growing as we moved into each other. I rubbed her shoulders as she ground her hips into mine. 

No bra. Oh yeah, where did she sleep? 

I stepped back and began to unbutton the shirt. At the third button, which was the last one closed, her breasts slipped out. I took the left one and sucked on it.

Janice opened my robe and I shrugged out of it. As I continued to suck her nipple she took hold of my cock and closed in on me, rubbing it against her panties.

"Both ends feel nice, so nice," she panted.

I switched to the other nipple and was tonguing it when I felt her let go of my cock. She jettisoned her panties, re-arrested my cock, and moved in.

"Scrunch down a little, let me get you inside," she whispered. As I started to, the realization of no condom hit me, and I pulled away.

"Condom," I croaked. "Please, I have to,"

"No need, it's ok, I'm fine, on the pill."

"No! I have to! Let me get it," and I pushed past her toward the nightstand.

The mood was broken. She angrily spat it out. "What's wrong with you? Or is it me? I know what my condition is. Do you have something I need to know about?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," I hit back, feeling my cock deflating. "It's common sense. Nobody should have unprotected sex unless they're certain of their partner's condition. It's just common sense."

"I trust you. Isn't my word good enough?"

"You don't know anything about me! Why would you take the risk?" I was hot now. How could she be so cavalier?

She slumped to the bed and began to cry. Long, wracking sobs crying.

I sat beside her, wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me. The sobs eventually ended and she pushed me away.

"That was terrible. I'm sorry, I've got to go now." She stood up and found her panties, then stalked to the living room where her pants, bra, and sandals were.

As she dressed, I composed myself. "Okay, it's alright. Please call me. I want to see you again. You helped me when I did something dangerous and stupid." 

"I'll let you know."

*

I filled the hour that I was willing to wait for her to come to her senses and return by sending out the next two days' notices for the interviews. 

Finally, I gave up on her. 

I got dressed and wandered out to the "Olympics," the university's rolling series of recreational programs that were meant to burn off excess hormones and keep Michelle Obama off our backs. I snapped lots of pictures, including Carrie at one of her food stands, but I really didn't care.

You are 100% right. The responsible thing is to fuck with a condom unless you have a commitment for monogamy from your partner and can prove they're clean. That's how you and Martha did it, and it's how the club operates. Even if it's not AIDS, there's herpes and syphilis and the quiet STD's.

You don't know anything about her. Sounds like she wants a boyfriend. Maybe she wants to get pregnant. Are you ready for a girlfriend, or a baby? Are you crazy? You've gotten used to sex with no strings, fuck when you want to, say good-bye, see you next time. 

She gave you the shits when you first met. It was like high school all over again. Then BANG, she jumps you, you're fucking, and she takes you home to meet her house mother. Then she gets bent out of shape about something that wasn't really your fault. Sure the second round wasn't genius, but where's the understanding? Then she's crying.

Didn't you learn anything when what's-her-name gave you the bout of impotence? "You made a bad choice of sexual partner." That's what Ascheim said. He was right. You should recognize the signs this time.

You're coaching Martha about learning how to decide who's a good man versus a bad man. Follow of your own advice. Whatever that is.

I tried to pick up three girls at the fireworks that evening. I struck out.

*

When Margery showed up for the second interview of Monday morning, I was completely flummoxed. I hadn't noticed that she was on the list and my recovery was not smooth.

"What are you doing here?" I'd just paid the subject and seen her out the door.

She looked at me curiously. "You're going to pay me an obscene amount of money for an hour of my precious time."

Afterward, I patched it up with Anna. She was amused, at least a little. 

"You some sort of politician, putting your friends on the payroll?"

"No, no, they're all qualified. They applied, they fit in categories, they responded."

"How many?"

"I'd met the one last week after she signed up, so she doesn't count. But after Margery there are three more."

Anna whistled. "Look, I've got to tell Don about this. There probably won't be any trouble, unless you discussed the purpose of the interview beforehand. But this is serious stuff, we can't have relationships interfere with the study."

*

"That was too weird," Margery said, as we settled into our meal. It was our catch-up night, and we were in the Italian food court.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, but there's a logic to the questions about —"

"No, I mean the show at Lit. Or rather, the aftermath."

"Oh. Well, that apparently wasn't my finest hour." I don't know why, but I'd hoped no one else had noticed my behavior.

"I've seen you drink a beer, but never anything hard. And the tequila? What was that about?"

"I had no idea what tequila could do. I was having a good time. I really liked the music, everyone at the table was interesting, so I just went along when Charlie proposed the chaser. It burned my throat, but somehow it didn't matter. I was having a good time."

"Laissez les bons temps rouler?" 

"What?"

"French. 'Let the good times roll.' A movie with Chuck Berry and Bill Haley and the Comets, in the seventies. Also the title of a B. B. King album. As in, you were feeling no pain, so let's do it some more."

I was feeling small. "I don't know, I don't remember, honest. The last thing I remember about Saturday night was everybody singing. Well, almost everybody. I don't know any of those songs."

"When did you wake up?"

"Around nine. It was horrible. My head was killing me, I had to throw up, and then the harpy of remorse and I got into an argument."

"Metaphorically speaking, I presume?"

"No, actually. Janice — the fiddle player? — had taken me back to the apartment and poured me into bed. I guess she slept on the couch to make sure I didn't drown in my own vomit. She called me a 'fucking stupid drunk' and reamed me a new asshole about it. We had an argument and she stormed out."

"No good deed goes unpunished."

"Meaning?"

Her eyes flashed and there was a steely edge to her words. "Meaning she did you a huge favor getting you home safely, taking care of you, and trying to get you see how badly you behaved. You repaid her by picking a fight. No wonder she left. I'm surprised she didn't slug you."

"Well, there was other stuff."

"I'll bet. And it's none of my business, but I hope you don't start partying like this in the future. Boozing is a slippery slope."

"Her words exactly." 

We ate, silently.

Finally I tried. "I hope your evening went better than mine."

"It did! I called Tom during the break and he said it was a very big deal, they'd be working at least through Monday. There had been some intermittent problems during the week, so the shutdown wasn't a complete surprise, but it was a big deal. 

"I was bummed, 'cause we'd planned the evening, but I enjoyed the show and when they all came over to the table afterwards, Evan started hitting on me right away. I liked it.

"We spotted you hanging around the Olympics in the afternoon. You didn't look happy, so we decided to leave you alone.

"He's an interesting guy. He says he'll probably be a banker, but if he had his druthers he'd be a musician. He can't carry a tune in a bucket but he plays jazz piano in addition to the mandolin." 

"So he spent the night?"

Her look was withering. "He dropped me off at the front door of the dorm, kissed me chastely on the forehead, and we shook hands. Yes, of course he stayed. I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity."

"Need some more condoms?"

"I'll buy my own, thank you. I've got to learn about them anyway, I suppose." She paused.

"Look, Carl, can I ask you about something?"

"Always."

"You could say I've known you your whole life — or rather, your whole sex life, right?"

"Right." I grinned, because it was true: she had taken my virginity four months ago, in a fuck-filled night I will never forget.

"And until classes ended, you'd never used a condom, right, not ever?"

"Right."

"So that, when the club closed up for the summer, you had to start using them if you were going to have sex with anyone other than Lisa, Carrie, and me?"

"And Julia, don't forget Julia." I smiled. "I haven't." 

Julia, Margery's cousin, was a high school senior trying to decide which branch of the state university campuses she wanted to attend. Margery asked me to give Julia a campus tour. The next day she went with us to a picnic that the club sponsored for prospective members. Afterwards, we went to bed and I took her virginity. During the tour I had taken a photograph of her that was the best I'd ever done.

"Right, Julia. Anyway, you're like me, you like variety, I understand that. You've developed a talent for getting girls into the sack, but you always use condoms, right?"

"Right."

"Okay. So, have you ever thought 'the heck with this, I just like the feeling of skin, what harm can it do, college students don't AIDS?' "

"I wouldn't dare. You, and everyone else in the club, has trusted me to not give you a disease I pick up from some girl who was unknowingly infected by somebody with something. And I trust you. It's not necessarily AIDS but herpes, or chlamydia, or gonorrhea. And condoms help with bed hygiene. It's just that I don't like them."

" 'Bed hygiene?' "

"Yeah, the wet spot, the mess in bed, you know, right?"

"I'm just teasing you. Anyway, why don't you like them?"

"After I cum, we're lying there, feeling the glow. If I don't grab the thing before I get too soft and slide out, it gets left inside. I feel awful and she thinks I'm a thoughtless dork. It breaks the mood.

"Of course none of this had ever occurred to me before I started having sex —"

"Fucking?"

"— before I started fucking. I really love that glow. I resent having to break the mood. I guess this is shallow and self-centered, but it's how I feel. I've never discussed this with anyone, so I have no idea whether I'm the only person who feels this way, though I doubt it."

"It used to be that girls enforced them," Margery mused. "For birth control especially, back before AIDS and the pill. Guys used to buy them from machines in men's bathrooms, which had a label that said 'for the prevention of disease only.' 

"Condoms can break, but they make them better now than they did even ten years ago. The failure rate, at least as far as pregnancy is concerned, is under two percent, but the problem is you have to use them right, all the time, or the rate climbs steeply. The pill is 20 times more effective, something like one-tenth of one percent, but it costs more.

"So all of us in the club are on some version of the pill. Bareback is one of the club's selling points, for everyone. Now that I'm getting around —" she blushed and looked down, but recovered and continued "— I'm having trouble getting used to them, and I find it's the guys who have to remind me.

"I resent it. I know it's the smart thing to do, I just don't like them. Maybe I resent that the guys have taken this over, I dunno. 

"Tell me, are you as sensitive with one on as you are without it?"

"There's at least one way to make putting it on that is really erotic, and by the time that happens and we're ready to go, I've forgotten about it. I can't imagine that having something between us wouldn't decrease my sensitivity, but I can't say I've noticed it. I just don't like having to mess with it afterward."

"Evan rolled them on himself, once I showed him where my stash was. Tom, though, makes a production of it. He showed me how to use my mouth —" she was blushing furiously now "— to roll it on. He was moaning all the way through, I think he wanted to get started and I was slowing him down." She giggled. "It was fun!"

This conversation was getting me hard, which was awkward since we were in a public place.

"Dessert?" I asked, pushing my mostly-finished dinner away.

"Absolutely."

I turned from locking my door to find Margery sitting on my bed, eyeing the spot beside her. As I sat, she stroked my cheek, then ran her finger lightly across my lips. I pursed them and she drew it slowly back across. The third time, she lightly tapped my teeth for admission. 

I opened, my lips took her finger, and I sucked on it. She wiggled it against my tongue and sighed.

We exchanged fingers, tongues, and lips. As she was licking my finger, I rimmed her ear with my free hand, then leaned over and nibbled the lobe. The moan came from deep within her.

She leaned her head back and I moved in on her neck, then to her throat. I took her head in my hands and began massaging her skull, from the back hairline to the front, then across her temples, and she sank her head onto my chest with a small moan.

Laying her back on the bed, I began kissing her throat again and opened the top button on her blouse so that I could kiss her chest. After a while I popped the second button and began stroking her bra-clad breasts with my fingers, lightly caressing each one.

The third button opened, I moved in on the bottom of her rib cage, trickling my fingernails across the bones. Popping the fourth button, I had her navel and I played with it, finally moving my mouth to it and tonguing, then blowing. Her moan was very deep.

Her hips rose up as I popped the button on her jeans. Too early, I thought. When there was no further action, she dropped down. I love the sound of the zipper on a woman's jeans, the slow rasp of its splitting is a special music. She lifted again when I palmed her mound, and I peeled the jeans down, but left the panties.

Bending to kiss her thighs, I smelled her arousal. Only a small touch of my tongue was needed for her to open her thighs, and at that point I shifted to kneel between them. 

Since we'd shucked our sandals at the front door, her jeans slipped easily away. I started with her insteps, caressing and tonguing the left one first, then moving up her calf to behind her knee, then to the V of her crotch. I heard the catch in her breathing as I moved off her skin, but she resumed when I reached the other leg and began descending.

Easing up her left leg, I kissed rather than caressed. When I reached the V, I pushed her panties aside enough to reveal her pubic hair and the one pussy lip. I moved in and tongued it, getting a deep guttural groan as a reward. 

I crossed over to the other side of her panties and pushed that side of her panty away, so that now they were bunched in her slit, between the lips, piling layers of silkiness on her clit. I licked and tongued the left lip, then took it into my mouth and rubbed it across my teeth with my tongue.

"Please, Carl, please."

"Soon, lover, soon."

I was hard, there was no doubt about that, but I wanted to give Margery a super fucking, so she wouldn't forget me in her quest to get new guys into her bed. And I knew from experience that wanting it, asking for it, not just getting it on request, heightened the pleasure.

Her bunched panties were soaked. I sucked them into my mouth and wrung them out with my lips, savoring the accumulated nectar before swallowing. I inched up and took the elastic top in my teeth and wiggled it down far enough to reveal her pussy, but I was stymied in going any further because she was laying on her back.

She solved that problem by lifting her hips.

Now, with full access to her pussy, I could play. I alternated long, slow licks up the slit with coquettish tonguing of her clit, which brought groaning from her. Still I held out.

"Please, Carl, pleeeease."

My finger had barely parted the lips when she jumped. She began swinging her head wildly around and she humped my hand, licking her lips for moisture as she came. She slowed and I wiggled my finger and she started again. "AAAARGH, god yes, omigod, yesssss!"




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 14



I wanted to jump her right then.

I had gotten as far as having my pants and jockeys below my knees when she grabbed my cock.

"Fuck me Carl, now, NOW!" she demanded, and pulled me down to her, then humped her pussy and found a way to get part of the head inside.

I leaned forward and slid an inche in. That were enough, because Margery grabbed my shoulders and pulled me the rest of the way inside. I started pumping and she pushed her pussy against me, struggling to get her clit slammed by my pubic bone.

"Fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes OH FUUUUCK!" and she came again. She must have sensed that I hadn't because she changed her movements and swung her pussy in a circular motion, not pulling me into her but straining to get the cockhead at the edge.

It worked, and I came, loudly. "Ohhhh FUUUUUCK Margery, I'm cumming, here it — ohmigod, I'm cumming, cummmming!" and I blasted into her.

God, that was awkward. God, that was wonderful.

We recovered as I lay beside her, wiping the sweat and hair from her face and kissing as her dreamy grin slowly faded.

I levered my pants off and pulled my shirt up and tossed it. I was naked, but Margery still had her blouse and bra on.

"Can I —" as I stoked her sweaty belly.

"Yeah, get rid of them. I can't bear to be halfway dressed with you around." She pushed herself up, giving me enough room to unclip her bra and slide the blouse off her arms and then away. She tossed the bra.

"God, I'm glad you came. I don't have the energy to get you off right now," she mock-moaned as I settled beside her.

We cuddled.

"Oh god, it's dripping down my leg," she yelped, jumping up.

"Damn, I'm sorry," I said, and hustled to the bathroom for a warm washcloth and a towel. I cleaned her up, swabbed the blanket, and we re-arranged ourselves on the bed, with the towel under her.

BURRRP.

"Oh my, where did that come from?" she blushed, putting her hand in front of her mouth.

"You, lover. I guess a good meal and a good fucking agree with you. C'mon, bathroom time."

Around two she woke me by gently sucking me hard. When I was fully awake, she swung herself on top of me, took my shaft into her, and began to sway.

Every time I'd tried to hold her steady at the top of her stroke, she'd adjusted and come down on me, knocking the breath out of me. This time I rode up with her and just stayed up, by pulling my legs under us. I bounced against her again and again.

"Whee! Do me, fuck me, this is so nice, so gooood."

Well, yeah, but I couldn't sustain it. We crashed down and finished with her cumming and then leaning forward to pumping me into a furious cum.

"It's a weeknight, we have to go to work," I semi-complained after I'd recovered.

"It's always a weeknight with us. We're young, we can fuck the night away and still do our jobs. That was really nice."

We did it in the shower in the morning, and I arrived at the lab slightly the worse for wear. I mean, three times in 12 hours wasn't so bad, but usually I didn't have to look chipper for work an hour later.

"Too much last night, eh?" snarked Anna.

When we quit for the day, my attitude had recovered enough that I was looking forward to dinner with Martha.

*

"We're doing another lunchtime gig," she perked as the food came.

"Wow! Maybe Jerry-the-owner was right, you guys ought to turn pro."

"It's Charlie. Or rather, the music department. He told us Monday that the group that was supposed to work Friday had crapped out, they just couldn't get it together. 

"We're stoked! We picked eight songs from our vast repertoire. I was hoping for something new to learn, but Charlie says you have to get used to doing the same stuff over and over, every night. Same stuff, different venue, but it's gotta seem fresh, like you were doing it especially for this audience. We're performers, entertainers, gotta give the crowd its money's worth."

"My job still available?"

"Damn right it is! We're gonna have a new look. Last time it was kinda informal, not especially organized. This time we're gonna be all denim, shirts and jeans. If Charlie had his way, we'd all be in string ties and cowboy hats, but we revolted!"

"What was the mature judgment about Lit?"

"The show or the after party?" Crap, she noticed, or was told.

"Both, actually."

"We'll talk about the party later. 

"The show was amazing. Your buddy Janice is one terrific woman! Charlie worked with her on the fiddle and slid her into every phase of the show. We had to re-arrange half the songs to make it work, but the crowd really dug it. Bluegrass needs a fiddle player. 

"Yesterday, she told us her violin teacher was in the audience and called her early on Sunday morning to say how much she enjoyed the show and how impressed she was with how Janice played.

"Charlie was kinda hard on us at the Monday-morning recap. Evan had gotten nervous for some reason and blew his part in a couple of songs. Probably not noticeable, but Charlie said he had to concentrate more. He bitched at Helen and Francis for spending too much time in bed and not enough practicing. 

"And he complained that Mike's sex appeal was making it tough for him, Charlie, to pick up girls, could he please tone it down and leave some for him. We all roared because nobody'd told him about Mike's, eh, persuasion. Charlie was really embarrassed. Apparently the teenybopper has dumped him.

"He explained that having Janice play in the background was usually the way it is with bluegrass groups, but for Friday he wants to move her up front and do a duet with her. Janice pointed out that she doesn't sing and Charlie said he meant he would sing to the fiddle and she would fiddle back — there are a couple of songs that work that way. She's really excited and they're gonna work on one for Friday."

We talked all through dinner and were finished by the time she got to her own review.

"Charlie says our 'Flat-Top Box' is so good, he wants a video of it, for YouTube. He was gonna set up a studio session, but when the Friday gig came along he's decided do it live — he's gotten the AV department to video the whole show."

We strolled back to the apartment. I was not looking forward to her review of mySaturday night performance. We dropped our shoes and she folded her legs under herself in the middle of the couch. I sat at the end and girded my loins.

"Thanks for getting me drunk."

Well now, that's different.

"Uh, you're welcome."

"Michael and I drank like everybody else at college. 18 is legal, you can go to bars, and it's everywhere on campus. We weren't there two weeks when we went to a frat party that his roommate knew about. We'd had beer at a couple of high school parties, so I knew about the taste and the buzz, but this time we each had three in about two hours and got blasted.

"The next morning we were really hurting, and his roommate laughed at us when he came back from his girlfriend's. 'You guys need to practice,' he said, so that night he took us to another party and made sure we got drunk. 

"The next week we did the same thing. It turned out I could hold three beers pretty well, but Michael was sorta wobbly.

"Perry, the roommate, took us to the same frat house the next Saturday and got us mixed drinks. First it was gin and tonic, then seven-and-seven, then whiskey sours. We had no idea what we had done, so after we threw up twice, they let us crash in one of the rooms upstairs.

"After another couple of weekend parties, we got much better at it. Michael was still uncertain about all the drinking, and I was cautious too, but I liked the feeling of freedom that I got from it. And if we drank in moderation, we had really good sex.

"We got smashed at a New Year's Eve party, where somebody spiked the punchbowl. He got me home safely but got pulled over by the cops. His parents were furious and made him pay the fine out of his own money and took away his car privileges. I had to drive us everywhere the rest of winter break.

"For our 18-month anniversary dinner, we went out for a lovely dinner and drank a bottle of classy wine. That was all, but we had to take a cab home. It made the sex wonderful, even if I did fall asleep right after we finished.

"Beer in a bar with a tequila chaser is a new thing. Charlie whispered that I should take it slowly, not all at once, so I was feeling fine when you ordered the second round. I would've sipped that one too except you were doing this toastmaster thing and I felt obliged to chug it. After that, it's pretty hazy."

I wasn't about to tell Martha the details of my morning-after-the-night-before story, so I hit the highlights.

"I woke up with a terrible headache and barely got to the bathroom before I threw up. I went back to bed and got up around noon. I didn't feel very solid for the rest of the day.

"My drinking experience is a single beer. Two tequilas was something I should never have done, and I don't know why I did what I did. I know this, I'll never do it again."

My relief at not having to explain everything that happened on Sunday emboldened me, and I reached for her knee. She pounced and pushed me back and unzipped me. 

"Hips up," she said, and had my jeans and jockeys on the floor.

"Bedroom please, I don't want to stain Pete's couch."

"Who's Pete?" she was stroking my cock as we got up.

"My roommate. He's moving in with his girlfriend when school starts, it's his couch," I panted.

Martha led me by my cock and, inside, she yanked my shirt up and off and slammed herself to me. I grabbed her ass and we ground into each other.

"I've never done it with a girl who didn't take her pants off."

"And you're not going to," she said. I beat her to the zipper and got them down in two swipes.

She leaned back on to the foot of the bed and spread her legs. I knelt and started licking her. She must have taken off her shirt and bra, but I couldn't tell because I was feasting on her pussy. She liked me to flutter her clit while I had two fingers inside, and I stroked her ass cheeks while I did it, coming pretty close to her asshole. She groaned at that and I was tempted. Later, later.

Her climax was thrilling. She beat her pussy against my face while she held me tight. I flashed back to the time where I passied out in this position, so I made sure I could breathe, even if the air was suffused with sex.

"CUMMMMING CARL, CUUUUUMMMMING! Oh goddddd!"

She was still thrashing around when I stood and pushed my cock into her. She scooted up the bed and I followed her, slamming into her again and again.

"Now you're talkin'! Take me to heaven!" We strained against each other, she grabbed my ass with her heels and pulled me furiously into her, again and again, faster and faster.

I came in stars and fireworks. "Martha-Martha-Martha! Oh god I'm cumming, cuuuummmmming, ooooooooh! ARRRGHHH!" and I streamed cum into her pussy, then crashed onto her. 

It was after 10:30 when I woke. Martha was still sleeping, my cock had slipped out, and there were pools of cum under us both. Since that would not do, I slipped away to the bathroom for a warm cloth and cleaned up. There was no way the blanket would be suitable for sleeping on, but I didn't want to wake her, so I cuddled into her and dozed.

She shook me awake around eleven. "You're a good lay," she said, "but you know I hate the wet spot. Why didn't you wake me and get rid of this thing?" meaning the blanket.

"Because I was afraid you'd attack me."

"No, I don't think so, I'll need another hour. C'mon, let's clean this thing up."

We took the blanket to the bathroom. It was more wet than dry when I finished washing the cum out of it, so I hung it on the shower rod to dry.

"We'll have to huddle for bodily warmth, I don't have a second blanket."

"That's okay. On your belly, I'll sleep on your back." I felt her breasts and bush in the right places. I sighed in happiness, and we drifted away.

About 3 a.m., I woke as Martha jiggled me getting back into bed.

"Can we talk? I want to get something off my chest."

"Sure." I was apprehensive, I had no idea what was coming.



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 15



"Can we talk? I want to get something off my chest."

"Sure," I said. 

It was 3 a.m. and Martha and I were in my bed. Before we'd fallen asleep, we'd exchanged confidences about the results of our miscarried drinking the previous Saturday night, after a bluegrass concert she'd been part of at a local bar. I was in the audience because I'd met her two weeks before and we'd become lovers. After the performance, I'd gotten roaring drunk and didn't remember much about what happened from then on. 

So for the next three hours Martha told me the story.

*

Around dawn, I woke up in my dorm room. I didn't remember how I got there. I had a real headache, but it was my mouth that was the worst. I sorta remembered throwing up on way home, but otherwise — who knew? 

I needed to pee. And clean my mouth. A shower seemed like a good idea too. I didn't remember getting out of my clothes, and I had my bra and panties on, which didn't make a lot of sense. Anyway, I stripped, put on my robe, and grabbed my toiletries and a towel, and headed for the showers. 

My shirt and jeans were hanging over one of the shower rods. I didn't remember putting them there.

The shower was refreshing, I brushed my teeth, and I was glad nothing worse had happened. In the shower it started coming back to me slowly, in bits and pieces. 

The show had been great! The audience was into it, we were all stoked. Afterwards, the place cleared out and the waitress brought a round of beers. We sang and sang, everything we knew. 

There was this guy been sitting with you, you introduced him as Paul. He had a good voice and he knew the songs. Charlie ordered tequila and we toasted the show. Later, you ordered another round of tequila, made a big-deal toast, and we chugged it down.

I must have gotten really wrecked. Somehow I got back to my room — why not your place, like I'd expected?

Anyway, I doubted I had gotten home unassisted. Who?

I was looking around the room when I noticed the second bed, where I dump my stuff, had something, or somebody, in it. 

I looked closer. It was Paul. His face was so sweet, so young. He didn't look like he'd started shaving. 

I stared at him for a while. Slowly, this naughty feeling came over me and I pulled my pillow over and knelt beside him. Ever-so-gently I slipped the sheet off and discovered he had these Daffy Duck boxers on. AND a morning woodie. Now I felt really naughty.

It must have taken me ten minutes, but I maneuvered the slot in his boxers so that his woodie came out.

I loved his voice. He knew every song we'd sung, and a lot more. And he was cute. I started by licking him. It got harder and I licked some more, and finally I took the head in my mouth and was rimming it when he jumped.

"Wha — who — where — oh god, omigod!" and he tried to sit up.

I popped off and pushed him back onto the bed. 

"Be still, you'll enjoy this."

I'd thought I'd go slow, but once he was awake it seemed pointless, so I moved in for the kill. 

He tensed up, so I knew he was close. "Watch out, I'm gonna cum, take it out, I don't want — oh god, it's close, watch out, oooooh goddddd!"

I swallowed everything, then did a victory lap around the head and snuggled up to his face. "Kiss me," I said, and he did. He seemed startled, but he kept his lips locked on mine.

When he came back to earth, I grabbed his hand and stood up. "C'mon," I said, and walked us the three steps backward to my bed.

I shrugged off my bathrobe, so now there with nothing between us but his Daffy Ducks. I sat down on the bed and pulled his ass to me. "Let's get these off."

"Uh, oh, okay."

After I'd gotten them down, I looked up and saw he had put his hand over his crotch. "Omigod," it dawned on me, "he's never done this before!"

Michael and I had laughed about how awkward our first time was. He wished he'd been more romantic, candles and soft music, so that my first time was really special. But I told him it was him, not anything else, that I wanted, and I meant it.

Now I was going to be someone's first time and I could make it special. I'd already gotten his attention, so I figured, let's do it the right way.

He clearly needed some encouragement. I stood up, took his hands, and put them on my breasts. "These are for you to play with."

He had that "deer in the headlights" look, so I moved his hands around and moaned. Slowly, he got into it. "Now kiss this," I said, cupping my left one. "Now suck it, use your tongue, a little pressure with your teeth, a little more, oh god yes that is soooo good. Now pinch the other one."

When he pulled off, to catch his breath, I decided to move him along. 

"Come with me," and I hopped us onto the bed. We knelt, facing each other. I reached for his cock and started stroking.

"No! No! I can't! Stop!"

"Why? What's wrong?" Had I moved too fast?

"I don't have a condom, it's not right."

"Paul, you've never done this, therefore you can't have a disease, right?"

"Yes, but you —"

"I'm clean, and I'm on the pill." He looked panic-stricken, and he started to pull away.

"Hey, wait! I can prove it!" He looked at me blankly.

I jumped up and grabbed the STD report out of my desk. "Here, read this, check out the date." I handed him the paper and got back on the bed.

By now his cock had deflated and I figured we were done. He read it, then looked at me meekly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply —"

"No, you were right, you did the right thing."

"I've wrecked everything! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll go now." His eyes were darting around the room, looking for his clothes. He had one foot on the floor when I took the report and tossed it toward my desk.

"Stay, please. Let's finish what we started, now that we have trust." I reached for his cock and stroked down over his cockhead. 

We started all over. I got his hands on my breasts again and started moaning. "Oh god that is soooo gooood," I encouraged him as he played with them. I was stroking his cock and it was getting hard again.

"They're so soft, so warm," and he kissed first one and then the other.

When I had him hard enough, I looked him in the eye. "Paul, we're going to make love. You showed me something that I admire, that you care about someone other than yourself."

He was trembling, but he kept his hands on my breasts.

"Lay with me, Paul." I said, and I slid onto my side, giving him room on the bed. When he didn't move, I smiled and nodded to the space next to me. Finally he lay down, but far enough away that he wasn't touching me.

"Closer," I whispered, and when he got there I felt his cock up against my leg. I smelled his sweat. He was virtually hairless, just the bush around his cock. 

"You have a very nice cock." I reached out and ran my finger across the cockhead and felt the precum. He groaned and his eyes were saucer-sized.

"I want you, now," using my best come-hither low voice.

He turned his face away from me. 'I-I-I haven't, I mean —"

"Shhh, shhh, this will be perfect."

I opened my thighs and pressed my leg hard against his. He didn't move at first, but finally he lifted his leg over mine. "Both," I whispered, and he lifted up and got between them. Then he sat back on his heels. 

He was trembling! And the sweat was pouring off him. 

"You're going to put it inside me," I whispered. I bent my knees and spread them as far apart as they would go, to show him my opening through the hair.

"Lean forward."

"Am I doing it right?" he asked, as he held himself over me.

"Yeah, that's it." I pulled his cock toward me, gently but firmly.

"Push it right in there," I said softly, and he scooted forward. I felt the very tip of his cock. 

"That's it, perfect. Now forward, yessss." The head was just inside. 

"You're getting there. Now push some more." He moved inside about an inch. 

"There! Feel good?"

"Ohmigod, yes, it's so warm. Omigod."

"Okay now, push, once more, oh god that's soooo good. Now just a little more, oh yeah, that's it, now out, now in, oh god yes, deeper." He had this determined look on his face as he got pretty much buried in my pussy.

"Now dance with me, lover!" I humped up against him a couple of times and he got the idea that he had to move. 

He looked frantic, and I knew he was gonna cum any second. "Oh god yes, I'm cumming, I'm cuuuumming!" and I grabbed his shoulders.

He came after about six strokes. "ARRRGHHH! OH GOD, OH MARTHA, I'M CUUUUUMMMMMMING!" His eyes were wild and he looked like he was in serious pain.

Of course he collapsed on me, and I pinned him with my thighs. I wanted to feel his heaving chest against my breasts, feel his cock spasm.

He was getting heavy, so I rolled us on our sides. At first he looked dazed, but then he got this big grin, and his cock was still hard in me. When it finally slid out, I reached for it and stroked it, slick with cum and my juices. Even though I hadn't cum, I was feeling warm, composed. 

I bent over and sucked him clean, then popped off and reached for his face.

"Kiss me, lover, you've just made me very happy." We sucked each other and I ran my tongue around his mouth.

After a couple of minutes just laying there, it was time.

"Okay, stay here, I'm gonna clean us up." I took my washcloth to the bathroom, got it wet and warm, peed, and came back. I grabbed a towel for myself, then swabbed him completely clean.

"Now you," and I handed him the cloth and flopped down onto the towel. At first he was hesitant, but he did a nice job of my pussy and thighs. After he was done, he leaned over my face with this huge grin — and sang!

"Martha, Martha, first you blew me Sucked my cum into your mouth. Then you took me to your bed and Fucked me till my lights went out.

"Never in my years of yearning Did I dream of this much bliss. You gave to me the best gift ever Now I want some more of this."

Carl, it was Beethoven's Ode to Joy! With, uh, different lyrics. He must have composed it while I was in the bathroom. It was so sweet, I almost cried.

We kissed and played with each other. He was still shy about anything other than my breasts and head, but I got him to walk his fingers everywhere, and he stopped from time to time and kissed something. It was so nice.

I hadn't paid much attention to his cock when we did it. I mean, it was there, it worked. But now I got a good look at him. 

The kid is HUGE. Long, not thick. Later, when we measured it, he turned out to be just over 6 inches when he's soft, 8½-plus when he's hard. Circumference-wise, though, he's barely 4¼ inches around when he's hard, less when he's soft.

He said the guys in gym mocked him, called him "pencil dick." I told him that he could write on my wall anytime, and we laughed. They probably never noticed, but his cockhead is a pretty big mushroom.

He was getting hard again. "This time we'll do it slow, okay?" He grinned eagerly, he would have done anything I suggested.

I rolled onto my back and held out my arms. He kissed my fingers and moved between my legs, then stopped.

"You're the man," I said, "make your move." 

He leaned over me and stuck his tongue in my mouth and we tongue-wrestled. I humped against him. "Sex, I want sex, we can kiss later."

He poked it against my pussy a couple of times and I saw he was getting anxious when he didn't get anywhere. "Find my opening with your fingers, then guide it in," I suggested.

He sat back and bent forward, sliding his finger around until he found the opening. "Yeah, you got it, now move in." I was getting impatient.

He held himself with one hand and guided it with the other. Once he had the head notched, he balanced himself and pushed.

"I'm inside you, aren't I?" 

"And you feel great," I said. "Now do it, but go slow, I want to appreciate it," and I squeezed him.

He took me literally and I barely felt him move. "More, deeper, I won't break, please," and he did.

"God, oh god that feels good, keep that up, it feels really good." And he did. As he got going, I was gonna wrap my legs around him, but I thought it might scare him, so I just let him go.

He lasted much longer this time. He had this curious expression, like he was doing something he sort of knew about but wasn't exactly sure how it worked. When I felt him getting close to cumming, I started humping at him. "Paint my pussy with your cum, c'mon Paulie, make me feel you!" and he sped up.

"Make me cum, make me cum, oh yeah," I hissed. "You're gonna make me cum! OH GOD YESSSS, I feel it — oh god! I'm cumming!" He was right behind me, and I felt his cock spasming.

He sagged onto me, gasping. I'd had a good time, didn't cum, but he was getting the hang of it.

It was his third cum in less than three hours, so I didn't want to push him too far. 

"C'mon, let's get dressed and get something to eat." I hadn't had a meal since lunch yesterday, and I'd lost that last night. I pulled on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, no bra, and jeans. He had his clothes from last night, including his Daffys.

We hit the cafeteria line for waffles, fruit, sausage, and juice. I wolfed everything down, minimal conversation. He wasn't far behind, but every once in a while he'd put down his fork and look at me with an expression that said "I think I know what we just did, can we go do it again, soon, please?"

We were pretty much finished when I leaned across the table. His expression went from perplexed to panic when I cupped his chin and closed in on his ear:

"Paulie, Paulie, first I blew you Swallowed every single drop. Then I took your young virginity Feeling every white hot shot.

"You blasted seed with manly vigor Filled mouth and pussy with your cum. Made me want to go much further Hey — let's go upstairs and do it again!"

We hustled to the elevator, shot out at my floor, and practically knocked the door down! He had my shirt off before I got the door locked, and I got him naked just as fast.

"Fuck me Paul! Show me what you're made of! Make me cum again!"

I gasped when he entered me and I squeezed his cock with my muscles when he got balls deep. He froze and tried to move, but I had him. When he tried the second time, I let him go and he shot backwards.

"Too far, lover, gotta get the stroke right," I giggled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't —"

"Shut up and put it back in."

He got the motion and we had a real nice ride. I had him slow down and listen to my breathing, so he would know when I was getting close. "I'm not big on keeping track of how close I am to an orgasm, it just happens. You have to listen, watch me, but oh man keep that stroking going," and I humped him.

I had a legitimate orgasm, not thunderous, but real. 

"Now you, c'mon, fuck me! Cum in me!"

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh Marth — ARRRRGH!" and he came, pumping furiously. He tried to hold himself up, but eventually he fell on me. I rolled us onto our sides pretty quickly.

At some point I squeezed his cock with my muscles and he squealed. "Oh no, please, please don't, it hurts."

When we'd recovered, it was time for him to do the housekeeping.

"Take the washcloth and go pee. Clean yourself off and come back and do me and the bed." While he was away I found the towel and put it under me.

When he came back, he did a thorough job of my pussy. He stared at the pool of cum on the towel.

"Me?"

"US, lover. You put it in, it mixes with my juices, then everything drips back out. If we don't do something about it, it soaks into the sheets and makes a mess of the bed. They call it the wet spot and it's uncomfortable for whoever's sleeping there. Same with you, by the way, which is why you should pee."

Afterward, we lay there, playing with each other. Aside from kissing, and my breasts, though, he was still hesitant to touch me. 

"Get acquainted with my body. I'm all yours. Touch me everywhere."

He wandered, once in a while stopping to ask a question. He was particularly interested with my armpits. He wanted to know why there wasn't any hair, like his.

"Because I shave them. Did it Thursday night, in fact." 

"Why do you do that? Guys don't."

"You want to be playing with a guy's armpit right now?"

"No, no! I just mean —"

"Girls shave their pits because we like to be smooth all over. Hairy armpits turn guys off. Some girls shave their pussies for the same reason, or because they want to pretend they're 12, they like to attract pervy old men." He wandered around some more, but we needed a break.

"Okay now, shower time," I commanded.

"That's risky, isn't it?"

"Do they shoot couples in your dorm who shower together?"

"No, but the RA says it's a violation of university policy."

"Okay, so I'll be tossed out of school. C'mon, we just reek of sex." I thought I'd give him a blowjob in the shower, but he had absolutely nothing left.

We wandered around the Olympics and got some food. I let him hold my hand and we watched a couple of the events. We saw you, but you looked like the night before hadn't treated you well, so I was glad you didn't spot us.

After things wound down, we went to his room so he could change his clothes. His roommate arrived just as we were starting to make out on his bed, so we had to go. We were heading down the hall when I stopped and leaned into his ear: "did you bring your toothbrush?" He blushed, stammered "no," and ran back to get it.

Back in my room, I wanted to go some more, but he still couldn't really get hard. He needed more time. We went for dinner at the union, walked around for an hour, then went back to my room and undressed each other. I changed the sheets and we cuddled.

"You wanna try again?" I asked.

"Am I allowed to admit that I'm sore?" 

"Actually, so am I. But there are other things we can do."

"Like?"

"I'm getting hot for you, put your finger in my pussy and feel how hot I am."

He put his index finger in. "Use your middle finger, it's longer. Not as long as your cock, nothing's that big" — we giggled — "but come as close as you can. Yeah, that's it. In and out, oh yeah that's good. Swing it around, so nice. Now press the heel of your hand against my clit."

"Your what?"

"Clit. You skip sex ed the day they talked about female anatomy?"

"Oh, clitoris, your clitoris."

"Yeah. Feel it? Now bring your finger, play with it. Oh yes, now use your tongue."

He froze. "I've never —"

"You can do it, I want you to do it. In fact, I want you to lick me up and down."

"But the cum, there's cum there."

"You've already kissed me twice when I've had your cum in my mouth."

"I did?" 

"Yeah, sure. Remember when we kissed right after I blew you? And when I cleaned you off after the first time? Salty taste?"

"Oh yeah. Well, but a guy sucking cum, that's gay." 

That pissed me off. "Paul, after I've blown you or fucked you, you owe it to me to show gratitude. Kissing me is the least you can do. Eating me is the same thing. After all, it's your cum and my juices, no third party involved. 

"Besides," I smirked, "it's organic."

He went down, tentatively at first, but I kept encouraging him, and he got into it. He stuck his tongue inside and wiggled it without being asked! He did a really good job — gave me an orgasm, his first with his mouth.

He was pretty hard when I came down, but hell, it had been five hours since he'd last cum, and I was feeling frisky. I asked him if he liked playing cowboys and Indians when he was a kid.

"I know where you're going with this."

"Oh? Where?" I did my most shy and demure look.

"I've seen pornos. You're gonna go cowgirl."

"Busted. Wanna play?"

"I don't know whether I can."

I patted his pretty-hard cock. "Oh I think you can. C'mon, let's go."

I swung up onto his thighs. "Okay horsey, I'm gonna mount you." I pulled his cock to my pussy and leaned back, then pushed it around a little bit and gradually worked him in. 




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 15



After I got about two or three inches in, I lifted up and humped myself forward. Another couple of moves and I had the whole thing in.

I wanted to position myself at the very tip, and milk him. I really had to stretch my legs to get high enough, but he was too long and my legs couldn't keep me up there that long. 

So I settled back down on his hips and had him play with my clit and breasts as I churned on him, just at the tip. It was a flat-on-your-back lap dance.

He was twisting my nipples just right and was flicking my clit when I got an orgasm. I think half the dorm heard it. Then I couldn't stop, I just did it to him, squeezed, wiggled all over, I was wild.

And boy did hecum! The half of the dorm that didn't hear me, heard him.

It was almost ten and we both could use the rest. I kissed him and said "let's go to bed."

"We're already in bed," he cracked. I smacked him on the arm. "Sleep, dumbass," and we grinned at each other.

"The bed's so small, how can we?"

"We're gonna spoon. You'll curl up behind me, put your cock between my legs and your hand anywhere you want to. It's a great way to sleep." And we did.

Around seven he jerked awake. 

"I've got an eight o'clock class, I completely forgot!"

"Wanna cut it?" I reached out for his cock.

"I can't! There's a test on Friday and this is the only review session! Business Fundamentalsis something I have to learn! It's tough!" He was agitated and was jumping around, pulling on his pants.

I lifted my leg and flashed my pussy at him. "Oh Paulie, Paulie," I crooned, "loooook Paulie, poooossy wants you, come to pooooossy." 

He froze, gaping, then started buckling his belt. "Oh god, I can't! I can't! Please!"

I laughed and he drilled me with his eyes. "It's not funny! You are the sexiest thing I've ever known. I just can't miss this class," and he finished buckling up.

"Come back tonight."

That stopped him cold. "You mean it, you're not teasing me again?"

"No, I'm not teasing you. I want to do this again. Why can't you stay for a half hour? You can still get to class."

"No! I can't! I have to take a shower!" He was getting agitated again. "I was supposed to study my notes yesterday! This is the only chance I've got! I can't get a bad grade! I have to! I have to!" 

"I meant it when I said come back tonight," I soothed him. "My class is over at four. Meet me at five. We'll eat dinner in the union. When's your first class tomorrow?"

"Ten." He was calming down.

"Good. It's settled. But I want you to do something for me."

"Anything." 

"I want you to buy a box of condoms. Four or six, not a truckload, but enough to last us."

"Why? We know all about each other. I don't understand."

"Please, just do it, for me, okay? I'll tell you tonight."

When I got back to the dorm, he was sitting in the lounge, with his nose in a book and a little brown bag beside him.

"How'd your review class go?" I asked after we got upstairs.

"Shitty, and it's all your fault." His grin took the sting out of the words.

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. I don't remember how I got to class, I was in such a daze. I couldn't concentrate, just played what we did over and over in my head. Everything else was a jumble. The professor called on me twice and I fluffed the answer both times. He asked me to stay after class.

" 'Paul, are you getting the material?' 

" 'Yes sir, I am, I've taken good notes, I got a B+ on the last exam.' 

" 'Well, you wouldn't know it from your answers today. Is there anything wrong?' 

"What I wanted to say was, 'Nothing! Absolutely gloriously fucking nothing! I spent all day yesterday in bed with the most beautiful woman in the world! It was my first time! Fucking and cumming, and sucking and licking her everywhere, and in eight hours I'm going to be doing it again!' Instead, I mumbled something about feeling overwhelmed.

"He lifted his glasses and squinted at me. 'Balance your love life and your classwork, son. You can do both, but remember why you're here.' " 

I kissed him. "Thank you. I'm glad I made an impression."

He blushed. "After my second class I went to the student store to buy the condoms. There were so many choices. The sizes start at gargantuan! Lubricated, ribbed, lambskin, latex, nipple end, reservoir end, every color under the rainbow, it was impossible. 

"I picked what seemed reasonable, plain, and got almost to the register when I realized that the clerk was a girl who sits next to me in my English class. I froze! I couldn't do it! So I went back, hung the box up on the rack, and got out of there."

"So what's in the bag?"

"Oh, condoms," he smiled. "But I didn't want to be embarrassed again, so I went into town, as far away from the campus as I could go. I found a dumpy little drugstore, but they didn't have a condom display. I screwed up my nerve and asked the old lady behind the lottery terminal where the condoms were.

" 'Average cock or big?' she asked, with a twinkle in her eye. I don't know why, but I blurted out my dimensions.

" 'Length doesn't matter much with condoms,' she said. 'Girth, yes. You want anything special?' 

" 'I don't know. She didn't specify, just said get a box.' 

" 'I'm gonna guess this is your first time. If she didn't specify what to get, try lubricated. Here,' and she reached behind her and handed me a box."

" 'Gee thanks. How much do I owe you?'

" 'My treat. Have fun. Come back when you need more and we'll settle up.' "

I wanted to teach him about condoms, so that he would feel confident with his next girl. You showed me how to roll one on with my mouth, and I wanted him to know how to roll one on by himself. I mean, nothing complicated. 

After that, I figured we'd go back to bareback all night. In the morning we'd have "the talk," about how I was going out of his life, we probably wouldn't see each other again. I expected him to cry, so I figured to do it in public, so he'd have to keep it under control.

After we laughed about the condoms, we got naked. I was pretty hungry for him. He was hard. "Get one out," I told him, and he did.

"Ever seen one?"

"Only in pornos."

"Okay, now make me hot."

We kissed, softly at first, but it got warmer and warmer. He went for my neck and I arched my chin. I got hold of his cock and started stroking him. We both groaned.

"You'll make me cum, please don't, I don't want to cum so soon, I want to make you cum first," he said. I let go and just lay back, wondering what the 33 hours since he'd first had sex had taught him.

He kissed down my throat and took one of my breasts in his hand and squeezed the nipple. My gasp told him he had the right idea, so he started sucking it as he played with the other. His cock was moving around on my belly — god I wanted to play with it! Instead I played with his hair and remembered to breathe.

When his tongue hit my navel, I squealed, and he blew in it. "Oh god," I said, and wiggled my hips.

"Like that?" he asked.

"You know I did."

By the time his tongue hit my pussy, I was rolling. He played with the lips and I was "yesssss-ing" and moaning. He put a finger in and wiggled it, then bent over and sucked my clit. I flew off the bed like I'd been hit with an electrical charge!

When I landed, he got between my legs. 

"Condom," I croaked at him. 

"Aw, c'mon, I like it this way."

"We're gonna use one, that's why you got 'em." He gave up and reached over and took one.

"Tear it open.

"Nipple side up. Now give it to me." I pushed him onto his back, put it in my mouth, and went down on him. He groaned as I rolled in down as far as I could go. I pulled off and finished by hand.

"Okay. Ready," I said, flopping onto my back, and he scrambled into position. I spread myself wide, so he could see where he was going. "Aim," and he notched his cock. "Fire!" and he pushed in.

I was watching him carefully, to see if he showed signs of not liking the condom. I shouldn't have bothered. He got going, slowly at first, then he built up speed. We were going great guns, his belly was slapping mine and I felt his balls banging my butt. 

When he started to cum, I was with him. "Cum, cum, CUM Paulie, I want you to cum!"

"Oh yeah, I'm there, OH GOD, here I cum!" and he was pumping and pounding. I came about the same time, but there was no point in dramatics, so I just went with it.

We rolled onto our sides and sucked air, his cock still inside me. I squeezed him with my pussy muscles and he squealed. I did it a couple more times and he groaned. "Too much, please, don't, I can't take any more."

I felt him getting soft. What would he do?

He was pretty soft and almost all the way out when he reached between us. As he slid out, he had it in his hand. "Where can I put this?"

"Wastebasket. Wrap it in a Kleenex first."

When he rolled back to me, I kissed him. 

"You are a very caring man," I said, and stroked his cock. "You are also a very good lover. Thank you."

"That was a test, wasn't it?" 

"And you passed." There was a little bit oozing out of his cock, and I scooped it up on my finger and made a big deal of sucking it into my mouth.

It was dinnertime, so we went downstairs. Afterward, we got naked and sat cross-legged on the bed, and talked. We hadn't taken much time on Sunday, and I wanted to find out who this guy was.

"What happened after I threw up? I don't remember much of anything." 

"You could barely walk, and you smelled terrible. I got you into the ladies' room on the ground floor and groped you till I found your room key. When we got to your floor, I got you into the bathroom. My first thought was to get you into the shower, to clean you up. I mean, you really reeked."

"Why didn't you take my bra and panties off?"

Paul blushed. "I, uh, well, I'd, uh, never, uh, seen a girl naked. I mean in pornos, sure, but, you know, not really. I was afraid you'd wake up and scream 'rape' or something if I got you naked, so I left 'em on.

"Anyway, I lugged you into the room and dropped you on your bed, then went back and washed your clothes in the toilet and hung them on the shower rod. Back in your room, you hadn't moved an inch and I was afraid something would happen, so I put you to bed and decided to stay, make sure you were alright.

"I figured I'd sleep on the floor, but I saw this bed, so I moved your stuff off, found your extra sheet, and fell asleep.

"The next thing I knew, someone was, uh, sucking my, uh, my, uh, cock." He smiled shyly.

"Now," he said, "can I ask you a question?" 

"Sure." 

"Why did you do it?" 

"Get drunk?" 

"No! Why did you suck me?" 

"You have the most beautiful voice. When I found you, you looked so sweet, just lying there. I don't know why, I wanted to see more of you. When I got the sheet down, I saw your morning woodie. But it was your Daffy Ducks that got me, I'm embarrassed to say. I can't resist a man who wears Daffy Ducks."

"You're teasing me." 

"Well, yes. I just, well, I just wanted — oh hell, I thought you were cute, sexy, and you had a hard on. I was naked, feeling frisky, and I loved giving my boyfriend wake-up blowjobs."

"How did you know I was a virgin?" 

"When you were standing in front of me after I'd gotten your Daffys down, I wanted to see your equipment from that angle, but you hid yourself with your hand. It gave me a thrill!"

"You like virgins?" 

"Don't know, never had one before, unless you count my boyfriend, but I was a virgin too, so that probably doesn't count. I did like this virgin, though," and I patted his flaccid cock.

"Did I do all right?" 

"I thought I'd lost you when you freaked out about the condom. I don't know what I'd've done if I hadn't remembered the STD test. Once we got that out of the way, you were great."

"God, that was so embarrassing," he blushed. "I'm sorry, I've had it drummed into my head to use them. Not that in any fantasy I've ever had have I stopped to put one on — until now I'd never really thought about it — but somehow it just popped into my head.

"So can I ask you another question?"

"Sure." 

"Why did you have the report?"

"When I broke up with my boyfriend, I wanted to get away from him, so I signed up for the mandolin course. We've been together since junior year and we were going to work in the same company for the summer. He was the only guy I'd ever slept with but I found out he was cheating on me and I wanted to know if he'd given me anything. So I got the test."

"But you were willing to have sex with me without proof that I didn't have a disease. Wasn't that, uh, risky?"

"After I blew you, I was feeling frisky, like I said. It wasn't smart, I'll admit, but female intuition said you'd never done it, so I felt safe.

"But, you should carry a condom from now on," and I kissed him. "Yesterday you did the right thing, for both of us, and I admire you for that."

"Want to do the right thing for us again?"

"Did I mention that you shouldn't ask, just move in? Yes, I want you inside me."

He kissed me, moved his hands to my ass, and pressed me down onto my back, then moved his head between my legs.

"Play with me, flick my clit," I moaned at him. He muttered something and licked straight up to my clit, fluttered his tongue, and slipped a finger into my pussy, moving it in and out, up and down.

It took several minutes, but he had me wet and panting. He sat back on his heels and licked his lips. "Now I want to be in you," he said.

"Me too. Get the condom." He shook another one out of the box. 

"Roll it on, be sure to pinch it at the top so there's room for your cum." He fumbled it at first, but he got it on and moved in.

"I'm going to fuck your lights out," he whispered conspiratorially. 

"New position lover. Get behind me," I said, and flipped myself onto all fours. "You're gonna put it in from behind."

"Okay, line it up" — I felt the tip against my pussy — "oh yeah, there already! God you feel good," and he got inside with two pushes.

"Now stroke, stroke, fuck me, stroke!" He had both hands on my butt for balance and I looked over my shoulder at him.

"Having fun?" 

"Loving it! But I miss seeing you." 

"Play with my clit, make me cum." He got the idea and wrapped his arm around me, so we were slapping ass-against-belly.

"You're gonna cum, I can feel it, cum, c'mon Paulie, cum — OH GOD, I'M CUMMING FIRST!" And I was, actually. I pushed back at him really hard. He almost lost his balance, but he adjusted.

"C'mon, Paulie, cum in me! Fill me up!" 

"Oh yes, god, it's so good, I'm — ARRRGHHHH! I'M CUMMING!" and I felt his cock spasming. After another couple of strokes he collapsed on me, and we fell forward onto the bed.

It was after ten when I woke. He'd rolled off and was on his back, snoring softly. I had this momentary panic that I had to clean up, but then remembered we'd used a condom and there was no need. I couldn't feel it stuck inside me, either. Then I saw there was another balled-up tissue in the wastebasket.

For sure, I could get one more cum out of him, maybe two. In the morning I could blow him, then we'd have the talk at breakfast.

I went and peed, brushed my teeth, and crawled back into bed. He woke up.

"You up for another round?" I asked as I reached for his cock.

"Isn't there a law against groping underage boys?"

"You're not underage! You got into Lit." 

"Fake ID." 

"So how old are you, really?" 

"Fourteen."

"Ummmm, statutory rape. I could get a reality TV show." 

He was hard and ready. I wanted to find out if he could get it in me without having to look down or have me guide him.

"Up in the saddle, cowboy," I commanded, and he was between my legs. "Now put it in me." 

"No condom?"

"Nope, you scored an 'A' on the exam, you know what to do. You're hard and I'm hot. Simple sex, good hot sex, you in me, cumming. C'mon," and I grabbed his cock. He squeaked and scooted forward.

He missed the first time but pulled back and got there the second time. "Oh godddd, this is sooo gooood Paulie. Now FUCK me!" I pulled him to my chest and began pushing my pelvis hard, right into him. He slammed back, and we were banging each other in no time.

We were animals! It was great! He was slamming away, grunting every time he pushed forward — "Ooompf! Ooompf!" When his pubic bone hit me, I swung my pussy against him and rippled his cock as he moved back, to get him to cum. 

My first orgasm hit me from out of nowhere. I held my hips off the bed and he had to adjust to keep inside me. He did fine, didn't try to force me back down, but he slowed down a little. When I crashed, he started up again, slowly.

"More?"

"Damn right!"

I thought I would have been able to get him to cum by now, but I underestimated his stamina. He just kept going. I hooked my heels behind his ass and pulled him in as deep as I could.

He dropped down onto me and grabbed my shoulders, then sat back on his heels and pulled me into his lap! 

"Dance on me! Make me cum Martha!" I was so hot, I felt I could do anything, even if his cock pushed out my nose. I went up and down on him and he crushed my breasts onto his chest. Sometimes he would grab my ass and swing me around.

I came twice. After the second one, I just was limp, but he was still hard and he twitched inside me.

"Paul, you're a machine. You've gotta cum, I can't do this any more."

"Make me!"

"All right, but remember you asked for it." I rippled him as hard as I could. He tried to be stoic, but soon his eyes got wide and he leaned back on his hands. "Oh yeah, that's sexy," he groaned.

He groaned again, and pretty soon I had him. "Oh godddd, you got me, I'm cumming, I'm cummmming, oh god, oh god, oh god," and his frantic pounding nearly drove me through the mattress. When his orgasm arrived, I was dead, but he had cum.

When I woke up around 4, I felt around between my legs for the wet spot, but there wasn't any. He was on his side, facing away from me and tight against the wall, so I couldn't check if he had leaked anything, but I knew that he'd cleaned the bed, and me. 

Around 7, I woke up again. He'd spooned on me, so I had to be careful not to wake him when I shifted around. I got his cock in my mouth and was happily sucking away when I felt his hands on my head, playing with my hair.

"Morning blowjob?" he asked.

"Best kind." He lay back and spread his legs, so I had full access to him and his balls. I was working his cock and playing with his balls, in no rush to get him to cum, when I had this idea.

"Wanta scandalize the neighbors?"

"Sure. How?" 

"We'll do it in the shower, full dramatic sound effects, put on a show." 

"Won't you be embarrassed?"

"Nope. This time next week I'm gone." The words weren't out of my mouth before I tried to grab them back, but it was too late.

"I know," he said, softly. "But we have all week." 

"Shower time, lover. Warm up those vocal cords." 

"We really put on a show. And it was actual sex! He had me in the corner and my legs hooked around his waist. I was yelling as he was pounding away when suddenly the curtain opened and one of the girls from across the hall was standing there, open-mouthed.

"Are you guys — omigod! OMIGOD!" and she slammed the curtain shut.

"I'm cumming, I'm cuuuming, oh god here I go!" yelled Paul as he blasted into me.

"YESSSS! God you're getting me, I'm cumming too!" I screamed, dramatically, but it was true. Afterward, we slumped onto the floor and let the water run.

When we'd recovered and decided to get out, we stepped right into this crowd of six or seven kids. They broke into applause! I mean, my hair's soaking wet, I'm bare-assed in public, cum's dribbling down my leg, I'm blushing furiously, and all I could do was say "I'm glad you enjoyed the show." Paul bowed! I handed him his towel and we swaggered down the hall to my room and collapsed onto the bed, laughing hysterically. 




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 15



We got dressed and went downstairs, me with my notebook and him with his books. There was some buzzing and plenty of looks in our direction, but no one said anything to us. We got a small table off to the side and ate. When we were done, he started to get up, but I pulled him back down.

"You know I'm leaving in a week. What we did upstairs was the most fun I've had in my life! It's just the perfect way to say good-bye," and I kissed him.

"But we have the whole week ahead of us. We don't have to stop now," he pleaded, his eyes begging as he gripped my hand.

"No, it has to be this way. It'll tear me up to go any further with you, knowing that all I'm doing is postponing things. So this is the right time. I have to concentrate for the show we're doing at the union on Friday, you wouldn't see me anyway till then. Afterwards, I have commitments and then I'm on the bus back home.

"I want you to do this for me, and for yourself. We will get up, give each other a hug, and walk out of here separately, our heads high. Okay?"

"Okay."

And we did.

*

"You know, nobody's ever gonna believe him." I said softly.

"Why not? It's true."

"Because it is every adolescent male virgin's fantasy, that a goddess or an angel will select him for initiation into the ways of sex. They will romp around for days and she will teach him everything. Then she will announce that her time here is up, she has to go, and she'll vanish."

Martha was quiet for a while. "And here I was thinking I'd been cruel, and selfish," she said softly. "All day today I felt guilty, worrying what your reaction would be to what I'd done."

I kissed her. "You are in a place few women ever have a chance to be, let alone achieve. What you've done is beyond noble." 

"And it was fun!" she giggled. "It was so great to see him go from being scared to death to being confident." 

"And you've honed your skills of male ego-maintenance," I smiled. 

"You and Michael, you're the only ones I will ever have taken at face value. And Michael's history." She leaned in and kissed me.

The kissing got deeper, and I rolled her on top of me and we played with each other. After a while she slotted my now-hard cock into her pussy and sat up on it. 

"And Paul's history too. But you're forever. And you're gonna give me a great ride and then go to work."

She started slowly, rising and falling, then swirling her pussy on my cockhead. It was sweet, unhurried, and I alternated between palming her breasts and playing with her clit. 

As she shifted into churning my cock more aggressively, I countered by thrusting up and into her, and we both got sweaty. We were soon banging against each other, trying to get the other to cum.

I came first, mostly because she rippled my cock with her pussy muscles. 

The broad smile on her face as I came changed to intensity as the orgasm hit her, and she threw her head around and her breasts bounced wildly. When she crashed onto me in exhausted pleasure, we were both gasping for air.

We showered, dressed, and went to the union for breakfast.

"We are getting pretty good at this show-of-the-week stuff," she said as we finished. "Charlie's taking charge, says that's what a group's leader does, the band all signed on with that understanding.

"And he's amazing! He's worked out a whole new way of introducing us, in two's and three's. The contrast to our first show here" — she waved in the general direction of the raised stage — "couldn't be starker.

"After the show, we're all gonna have lunch and then he and I're going away for the weekend."

So smooth, such a slam in the gut. 

"I thought you weren't interested in him, he's too old. Or something."

"Not as a boyfriend, that's for sure. But he's gonna launch my career. He's going to introduce me to a lot of people in Nashville, with the goal of getting me work, either as a singer or a mandolin player. In September he's leaving to tour with one of the big bluegrass groups, he'll be on the road for almost eight months. 

"So I want to set the ground rules for our relationship. I really want it to be as colleagues, but I'm not naïve enough to think he doesn't want to sleep with me. We'll spend the weekend together, be back on Sunday night. The class wraps up on Monday, Tuesday I'll pack my stuff and take it to the bus station. I'll meet you for dinner after work. Okay?"

"You take my breath away. You are so focused."

"I am, aren't I?" She had this slightly amazed look on her face, but her voice was all confidence. 

"This summer has been so great! I never thought I would be doing this stuff for myself. I mean, I could always get stuff done, Michael depended on me for arrangements, making sure we didn't forget things. And that was the role I had. But not any more.

"When I leave on the 11:57 bus on Wednesday morning, I'm heading home. I'll sit my parents down and tell them I'm going to take a 5-year leave from school to play music. They'll be stunned! We'll holler at each other, but in the end they'll agree. They'll also agree to send me money for the rest of the year so that I can get an apartment and eat. After that I'll be on my own.

"And I'm going to explain things to Michael, face-to-face. I didn't break up with him the right way, and I feel guilty about it. He may be angry and not want to see me, but then it will be his choice. 

"And thenI'm flying to Nashville and starting my life."



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 16



I've admired "Nothing Between Us," M-Y-Erotica's first-time story from 2006, ever since I encountered it. And so many other Literotica readers feel the same way that it ranks number 29 on the all-time, most-read list, with more than 1.8 million views. In fact, "Nothing Between Us" is the top first-time story on Lit and the only first time story with over 1 million views. But it seemed to me that there was some history about Thuy and Jake that was missing, so this and the next two chapters of "Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks" is my take on that backstory.

*

"GIMME THE FUCKIN' MONEY!" yelled the Lone Ranger mask as he slammed through the office door. When I froze, he grabbed the cash box and scooped up the envelopes. Then he turned to the girl.

"GIMME THE MONEY CUNT!" He grabbed at the envelope in her fist, but all he got was air as she shrank back. He waved his knife menacingly and moved in. She backed further away, past my desk's side chair to the wall. He was waving the knife at her when I hit him with the tin box.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" It caught him on the side of his face and the blood flew. 

"FUUUUUCK!" he screamed and slashed at me. My cheek burned and I staggered backwards.

When the chair hit him in the shins, he stumbled and slammed against the side wall. "FUUUUCK!" 

The chair caught him just as he was regaining his balance, knocking him flat on his ass. The knife clattered across the room towards the girl.

He was up his hands and knees pretty quickly, frantically looking for the knife, when she smashed the chair into his face.

"FUCK YOU!" he cursed as she shoved the chair at him once more. When he couldn't find the knife, he gave up and sprinted out the door.

She was holding on to the chair for balance and breathing heavily. I went over and hugged her. I was shaking as much as she was. Suddenly Anna appeared and pushed us both to the floor.

"I called 911. The cops will be here in a minute. Just lay quiet," she commanded.

The cops and the medics arrived at about the same time. Anna had torn a strip from her blouse and was using it as a compress against my throbbing cheek.

"You look great, Carl, hope the other guy looks worse," said the medic as she checked my wound. I had no idea who she was, but she smiled confidently as she stung my cheek with the alcohol wipe.

"Kate," she replied to my unasked question. "You and I responded to that car wreck in town a couple of weeks ago." She grinned broadly but I still had no idea what she was talking about.

Before I knew it, she had me on a stretcher and they were wheeling me toward the elevator. I asked her to stop, I wanted to see if the girl was alright. 

"She's fine," said Kate-the-medic. "Cops got a job to do. You and me, though, we need to get to the ER."

The doctor chuckled. "You're lucky, kid," she said. "You ear's just been notched. Another inch and you'd be our local Gauguin." Then someone hit me with a shot and I was gone.

When I woke up, I recognized that the guy standing over my bed was a doctor because he was in a white lab coat. He introduced himself and explained that I had a deep cut across my left cheek and had lost a small piece of my left ear, but that he had sewn everything up and had taken precautions about infection from the knife. The gash on my check was long and pretty deep at one place, so he wanted to keep me overnight for observation.

"Can I go back to work tomorrow?"

"Sure, unless something goes wrong, but I don't see why not. You're young, healthy, and we run a good ER."

He introduced the two men who were standing next to him as police detectives. They wanted me to go over what had happened. When they closed their notebooks I asked the obvious question: "Did you catch him?"

"Not yet, but we have lots to go on. 

"First of all, we think you probably messed him up pretty good with that tin box, so we're expecting him to seek medical attention. Second, the surveillance tapes from the building and the elevator should give us some useful pictures. Third, the knife has prints and DNA, though they're probably only gonna be good to confirm his involvement when we find him. 

"There were lots of people around when this happened, so we'll find a couple who saw a guy running from the building with blood on his shirt and holding his face. Oh, we'll get him."

As the detectives left, an older, well-dressed man stepped forward. "I'm University President Gerald Loughlin. I'm glad to see that you're okay. The University cares about making sure you get the best medical care here at the hospital. We'll take care of everything, since you're an employee as well as a student. Just rest and get better."

I hadn't noticed Anna when I first scanned around, but she came up as the University president left. "The closest I've ever seen that dude in the flesh the seven years I've been here is at commencement and football games. You get a split lip and Mr. Smooth is all over you. Probably afraid you'll sue."

I was really glad to see her. But I also was concerned about the girl. 

"Oh yeah, Mai. She wasn't hurt or anything, just shook up. I don't think she likes the sight of blood, and she got a lot of yours on her shirt. Once the cops were done interviewing her, she called the group she's here with and they came and got her. She's in some summer studies program and they're very protective."

"I'm glad she's okay. She's tough." 

"Yeah, that's what the cops said. She acted on instinct, just like you did. The cops said neither of you was particularly bright, what with the knife and all, but I've never liked the shit about how you're supposed to just let the assholes take your money, so fuck 'em, you both did the right thing."

"I hope this isn't going to mess up the interviews."

"Nope. We've got almost three extra weeks in the schedule, no problem."

"Great! The doctor said I'd be sprung in the morning, so I'll be at the lab by nine."

"Hold your horses, cowboy," she held up her hands. "You created this gruesome crime scene. The cops were just starting to take pictures when we left to come over here. They're probably finished by now, but the building staff will have to come in and wash the place down, then repaint. They've got this 'Caution Crime Scene Do Not Cross' yellow tape up on the door. We're out of business till Monday."

"Oh," I slumped. "I'm sorry." I was surprised at myself for being so interested in getting back to work.

"We're going to have to make a change in procedure, though. The university insists that we stop paying in cash. Don told them it would damage his research protocol. They told him that his research protocol had just fucked you up pretty good and besides, the University'd gotten bad press.

"So we're gonna stop paying cash and offer some sort of credit on the university bursary account. You'll have to notify the yet-to-be-interviewed subjects about the change, and we may have some dropouts. But we've got enough in the pipeline that I doubt if it'll make any difference."

"Was it a real mess? The office, I mean?"

"Oh, not so much," Anna snarked. "The kid just knocked the guy's sorry ass across the room and he bled all over everything. There were spatters and smears on the wall, puddles on the floor where she knocked him down. You contributed some on the desk, the floor, the kid's shirt and her face. I got some on my blouse and bra. No biggie.

"Hey, there's a reporter from the student newspaper who wants to interview you," she said, shifting gears. "The university's PR guy is hovering over her, says you're a hero for protecting the girl."

"That's bullshit!" I was hot. "The kid's the tough one, she went after him. If she hadn't done that, he'd have sliced me to ribbons, and probably her too. I don't think I was much use once he cut me."

"Look, let me bring in the PR guy, you can decide if you want to be interviewed."

The "PR guy" turned out to be the university vice president for public relations. "He" was a she, a diminutive, razor-thin black woman about 30 who talked a mile a minute but in a voice so soft I had to cup my un-bandaged ear to hear her. 

The gist was that I didn't have to talk to the reporter if I didn't want to, but the reporter could hound me for days if she wanted a story. She suggested I give a quick interview from my hospital bed, which she could limit due to my delicate state. She would keep the reporter on a short leash and get her out of the room as fast as possible. 

It lasted maybe ten minutes. The reporter had the story line about my "heroics." I said the kid and I did what we had to do to keep from being hurt. I pointed out that it was she who chased the guy away. The reporter took it all down, said she hoped I'd be better soon, and left. 

The PR VP said the interview went very well and said she'd call me if the reporter wanted any more information. "Here's my card, let me know if they call you directly so we can manage this. Feel better," and she left.

So here I was, working this college summer job doing video technical work and interviewing for a psychology department research project. Anna, my graduate student boss, and I had started the morning interviews with a slightly shy Asian girl to whom I had just given the pay envelope when the door banged open.

We'd made a big splash in the student paper about how we were paying $150 cash for students who would answer questions for an hour because the study had planned it that way — it's tough to get student subjects for small amounts, and we needed to deliver 150 videoed interviews by the end of the summer term.

For the previous three weeks, everything had been routine, no hint of trouble. Actually, "routine" wasn't the best way to describe what we were doing. What started out as interesting, even intriguing work as far as I was concerned, had quickly became boring and repetitive, since the questionnaire was rigid and we had to ask the questions in a carefully neutral voice so that the camera could catch the faces of the interviewees answering the exact same questions. 

I'd gotten the job accidentally but discovered that I liked the concept, if not the work, of research. As I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling, I decided that I still liked research.

When I got dad on my cell, he said that President Loughlin had called him just after he'd seen me, with assurances that I was fine and would be well taken care of, even if it involved plastic surgery to fix my ear and cheek. 

He said mom was upset and worried, but that she would be glad that I'd called. Also that my sister Chrissy would probably think I was being a drama queen.

About 4 p.m., a new nurse came on duty. He pulled a mirror out of his pocket and showed me the damage as he changed the dressing.

The ear was puffy with some dried blood, but he said the swelling would go down overnight. "You'll never notice it. Your girlfriend will, when she nibbles your ear, but that's all."

The cut on my cheek, on the other hand, was about six inches long, very red and black with dried blood. There were eight stitches and I thought about Frankenstein's monster.

"When they spring you tomorrow morning, you'll probably have a long bandaid on your cheek. The guys in the ER did a great job on you.

"Anybody asks, tell 'em it's from a duel, where you were defending a girl's virtue — it's close enough to the truth, right?" We laughed and I dozed off.

*

They'd just taken dinner tray away when my cell phone erupted. The student newspaper's website and the local TV station had carried the story, and word-of-mouth had spread to Martha, Margery, Carrie, Lisa, Amanda, and Tom.

"You're famous," cracked Lisa, "they had both your and her Facebook pictures on TV."

"Is this grist for a new story?"

"Don't get cocky." 

I told everyone that I'd be released after breakfast, there was no need to visit. Martha was glad that I would be at the show. 

I called home at dinnertime. Mom was motherly, dad was glad to hear from me again and said grandma was worried but glad to know I was okay. Chrissy was snarky, but she'd read the website and agreed that it wasn't completely a laughing matter.

*

Breakfast was pretty good, and by 8 a.m. they'd changed the bandages again. "Ear's doing real well, and the scratch on your cheek is too," said the doctor. "Come back tomorrow and we'll change the dressing. Come back in a week, we'll look at it, but I don't foresee any problems."

It was hot outside but I was glad to be out of the hospital. I walked over to the lab and found the building crew starting to prepare for painting. 

"Good job, kid," said the foreman, when he found out I worked there. "We'll get overtime for this."

I went home, showered carefully, and put on some fresh clothes.

*

"Howdy, hero," Amanda said as I sauntered across the library floor to her reference desk. I blushed.

"Thanks for calling yesterday."

"You're welcome. I emailed Ruth with the story, but she's not gonna get back to me — remember, no response unless she could actually do something. But I thought she'd want to know. 

"Anyway, pretty nice scar?"

"Probably. Six stitches, it looks ugly. They'll do plastic surgery if I want it, but maybe I should to keep it and explain how I'd been in a duel over a woman."

"Well, that's very manly. Make sure your Facebook page displays it, the girls will come running." We laughed at the idea.

*

I walked into the union about ten minutes before noon. Already there were four tables filled with students eating lunch or waiting for the bluegrass show, and more were trickling in. The AV department had the stage set up but I didn't see any cameras, so I asked the tech how they were going to record.

"Oh, we have five remote cameras hung permanently on the walls and ceiling," he said as he pointed out the cameras, one of which was twenty yards away from the stage. "Real good lenses and mikes. We've been doing this for a couple of years now. 

"I gotta run. The director's in Carpenter and she's busting my balls about them hitting their marks," he said, making a face as he gestured at his earpiece and then at the multi-colored pieces of tape on the floor. "The department wants this to go right, they're gonna feature the whole show on the university's YouTube channel."

I took a seat at an unoccupied table off to the side. A couple of minutes later a chair scraped and I turned to see Paul.

"Hi," I perked. "You with the band?"

"Yeah!" he giggled. "Just like last week. The Literratica show was awesome, wasn't it!"

"They should've called you up to do the encore with them. You're good."

"I love bluegrass. I wish I could play an instrument, but I can't even read music.

"Hey," he said, changing the subject. "Was that you that got robbed yesterday? Oh wow, that's where he cut you!" he said, pointing at my bandaged cheek.

"Yeah. I've got a notched ear and eight stitches."

"They catch the guy?"

"I haven't heard, so I guess not."

The show was a student program of bluegrass music put on by the summer music department. Charlie Waddington, the course's instructor and a well-known bluegrass musician, introduced each of the six students as they performed and had them sitting on stools off to one side when they weren't. 

He moved things along much more smoothly than he had at Lit the previous Saturday night. Janice and her fiddle were in most of the songs. He and Martha finished up with "Tennessee Flat Top Box," which brought down the house.

As they loped off the stage to prepare for the encore, Paul leaned over to me. "I'm in love with her, you know," he whispered.

The encore lasted almost five minutes, and the applause was thunderous. The crowd was three deep around the group so I went over to the tech guy, who just grinned and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Man you guys are GOOD!" boomed Nick. He'd rushed the stage and elbowed aside a couple of guys who were hitting on Mike. They spoke briefly and Nick seemed pleased when he spotted me and came over. 

He was joined by this waif-thin black girl, maybe 16 or 17.

"Have they caught the guy who slashed you yet?"

"Not that I've heard," I told him. "But they think they will, they've got a lot of evidence."

"This is my sister Laurette," Nick beamed. "I told her about the show at Lit and she wanted to see this one. I figured you'd be here and she wanted to meet the hero guy." Laurette extended her left hand and I took it. It was rough for a girl's and her grip was powerful. She noticed that I noticed.

"I get that a lot," she smiled. "Everybody in the family works on the farm, does what's needed. I drive the tractor, haul apples and corn. You get strong and your hands get rough. Or is it because I'm black?"

Gulp.

She laughed. "Adoption, Haiti hurricane. Mom and dad swooped in, took me because I was in the worst shape."

"Not true," interjected her brother. "They got an eye for talent. She works harder than any two of the regular hands." They wiggled their eyebrows at each other and laughed at what had to be an established routine.

"But seriously," Laurette said, "is it true you beat up the guy who was trying to rob you?"

"I surprised him and hurt him pretty bad, but he got me pretty good back. The girl was the tough one. She was like a lion tamer, kept hitting him with the chair until he gave up and ran away. Bottom line, he got my money but she kept hers."

Paul came over and Nick introduced his sister. "Oh, you're the emerging star," said Laurette, batting her eyelashes at him as she extended her left hand. Paul blushed as he took it.

The crowd had thinned and Martha and Charlie came over. Martha kissed Paul on the cheek, then linked her arms with him and Charlie. 

"I tried to get Charlie to call you up on stage," she said to Paul, her voice pitched above conversational, "but he wouldn't. 'He's got a better voice than me, I'll be upstaged.'

"You've got such a fragile ego," Martha laughed, elbowing Charlie. 

"She's right, you know," Charlie sighed in mock exasperation. "You're good. Are you in the music department?"

"No, I don't, uh, know what I'm gonna do, maybe business," Paul stammered. "Besides, I can't read music, I learn everything by ear."

"That's a real shame," clucked Charlie as he shifted into teacher mode. "It's not so tough, it's a simple foreign language. Take a class."

Then he turned to me. "Got smacked around, eh?" gesturing at my face.

"Yeah, outsized budget meets underdeveloped knife-fighting skills."

"Well, stay out of barroom fights. They bust the long necks offa beer bottles and come at you from your blind side if you even look at their girl."

Mike came over and gave Nick's ass a squeeze. 

"I hear you were Mike's guardian angel on Saturday," said Charlie. Nick beamed and patted Mike's butt. 

"Sweet-cakes here is worth staggering five blocks at one o'clock in the morning carrying a drunken Irishman." I'd repressed the embarrassing memory of how I was responsible for getting Mike drunk after the Lit show, and that Nick had gotten him safely back to his dorm.

Martha cut Charlie and Paul loose. Charlie wanted to talk to the tech guy, while Laurette and Paul chatted. Martha kissed my cheek, the unbandaged one. 

"Have they caught the guy yet?"

"Not that I've heard of. God I hope they do," I said as a cold shudder rolled over me. "Maybe he'll come after me."

"Not likely," she said.

"What makes you think so?"

"Well, for one thing, he probably doesn't want to be seen with his face all torn up. And second, your bodyguard over there would probably beat him up." She nodded toward a stocky man in a sports jacket, who I recognized as one of the detectives from the hospital room.

He noticed me noticing him and came over.

"Hi. Carl. Can I talk to you for a moment?"




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 16



We sat at an empty table.

"The emergency room called about an hour ago, said they have a patient with a big cut on his face, infected. The uniforms have secured the place, he's not going anywhere.

"We think he's our guy, and my partner has taken the pictures from the surveillance cameras over to confirm. If it looks like him, we'll question him. We just wanted you to know."

"Thanks, detective, uh . . ." I hadn't remembered their names, even though they'd given me their cards.

"Stymolowski. Don't worry, nobody remembers the first time." We shook hands and he headed for the door. I went back to Martha.

"Cop?"

"Detective. They think they've got the guy, he showed up in the emergency room with a big cut on his face. They have photos from the surveillance cameras and they're checking now.

"I'm really relieved. So," I said brightly, "that means I've got an empty weekend calendar. You available?"

"Nope, got a date. We're going to the country fair three counties over. Some friends of Charlie's are playing there, four shows in two days. But I'm seeing you for dinner on Tuesday, right?"

"Right." I kissed her on the cheek. "Have fun."

Martha caught up to Charlie and the two of them picked up their instruments and walked away. 

And I was alone.

Back at the apartment, I reviewed the damage. We'd lost 9 interviews due to the robbery, five on Thursday and four today. I emailed each one, asking them to sign up for a new date. I did a draft of a letter to everyone still to be interviewed about the change in the way they would be paid, and sent it to Anna for approval.

*

By dinnertime, I felt like having a steak, so I headed to the union. I was almost at the American food court when someone called out my name.

The voice came from a bunch of oriental kids at a small cluster of tables in the Italian food court. I recognized one of them as Mai, the student who was with me when the robber burst in and took our money. She introduced me and told them how scared she'd been and how heroic I had been.

"She's being modest. Actually, Mai here was a tiger," I said. "Look at it this way: I got robbed of almost a thousand dollars and got cut up for my trouble. Mai kept her money and she made a guy with a knife run away from her." She grinned shyly and I was invited to join them for dinner.

I took my camera from my belt and proceeded to take pictures of everyone. One of them took the camera and photographed me and Mai, together and in the group. Mai and one other girl were wearing skirts, but the rest were typical college students, jeans or shorts and a t-shirt.

As we ate, Mai explained about her summer program. There were eleven of them, ten students and a trip leader. While they were all Americans, they or their parents came from eight different countries. There were two each from Taiwan, Singapore, and China, and one each from Indonesia, Japan, Thailand (Mai), Korea, and Vietnam.

Their summer-long program was in three parts. First was four weeks here, studying with a pretty-well-known visiting scholar of American-Asian studies, followed by a four-week bus trip around the American West and Northwest, stopping at places where thousands of Asians were buried along railroad rights-of-way or in cemeteries of towns they had founded. 

By mid-August they would arrive in San Francisco, where their sponsor, the Asian-American Advocacy Consortium, was holding a three-day scholarly program in Asian immigrant studies at Berkeley.

Gradually I found I wasn't interested in the conversation Mai and her friends were carrying on. To my left was the other skirt-clad girl, petite with long raven hair and the thickest Southern accent I'd ever heard.

"Where're you from? I've never heard a Southern accent as thick as yours."

"We're from Minnesota," she said, deadpan.

"Oh."

She giggled. "I'm Jennifer," she said, and we shook hands. "Actually, I was born in Vietnam, but my parents moved to Minnesota when I was five. A year later we moved to Arkansas."

And off we went. 

"I didn't know any English at all when we came here. Dad knew some, because he worked for a company that did business with British and American companies.

"I picked up some in kindergarten, but when dad got this job and we moved to Minnesota and then Arkansas, I was thrown into an all-English first-grade class. 

"I was lucky, Southerners talk slow, but I still needed help. Since the town has this military base, they found someone who knew some Vietnamese from the war, and she worked with us. 

"By the time first grade was over, I was okay. The family that lived next door to us had a son who helped me a lot. I got my accent from him."

We finished dinner and everyone was getting ready to leave. "There's a concert tonight, at the football stadium, Jen," said Mai. "You guys wanna come?"

"I'm gonna skip it, Mai, thanks," said Jennifer. "I'm not in the mood. See y'all back at the dorm. Stay sober!"

We left the union together, not heading anywhere in particular. I wanted to continue our conversation. It was a warm evening and we walked all over.

Eventually we found a bench and sat. And, for absolutely no reason I will ever know, I unloaded on her, coming as clean about myself as I ever had with anyone. Maybe it was the pent-up emotion from the robbery, but the dam broke.

By ten, Jennifer knew about my social zero-ness in high school and how I had obsessed about photography. I told her about moving off-campus, about Pete, about the club. I told her about living with and being rejected by Cindy; how I'd reacted with impotence to sex with Pat; and what I'd done when I found out that Lisa had written a dark story about me that had been accepted by The New Yorker. I told her about how I got my summer job and about how I felt that I wasn't in charge of my own life — I just dumped everything on her.

I'd skipped the part about losing my virginity. When I came back to it, I dissolved, just bawled. Jennifer held me.

After I calmed down, she stood up and took my hand. "C'mon, Carl, it's getting late. I'll walk you home."

She thought leaving our shoes at the front door was normal. I got a couple of Sprites and we settled down on the couch. She curled her legs under herself, adjusted her skirt, and turned to me.

"You are so lucky to be a white-bread American. Sure, you have your problems, but you have no idea what it's like being a foreigner, not speaking the language, coming to a place where there's nobody who looks like you in a million miles.

"I mean, here I am, this stranger in a strange land, and I'm short to boot. The nice kids called me 'China doll' or 'Singapore girl,' and the meaner ones said 'gook' or 'slope.' You'd'a thought the black girls would be more sympathetic, but they were just as mean. All the time I got picked on for being short, unathletic, flat hair, slanty eyed, inscrutable expression, bookworm, no tits, whatever.

"My only real friend was Jake, the boy next door. He was so patient, helping me with English. I'm a quick study, but first grade was tough. I got pretty good by second grade, though, and by third grade I was giving my parents English lessons. We still speak Vietnamese at home, but I don't read it very well anymore.

"I never really fit in, 'cause of the racism and also because I was bookish. I mean, I had friends, but I didn't date, don't play sports, wouldn't even consider cheerleading. I just read and hung around with Jake. The girls gave me a hard time about being short and flat, and the boys only wanted to date girls with big boobs.

"Jake played basketball and he practiced by the hour at the hoop in his driveway. I'd come out when I heard him dribbling the ball, and we'd just talk. He made the varsity in sophomore year, despite being six feet nothing, because he could shoot the eyes out of a squirrel from the outside. 

"My crush started in sixth grade," she said softly. "We never talked about it, he was oblivious. In high school everybody thought we were a couple, even our parents thought we were made for each other. We'd go out, dinner sometimes, school plays, the usual stuff. We weren't dating, just being together. 

"I was his 'we-tell-each-other-everything' pal. He dated, not a lot, but when he had one he'd tell me all about it. He wasn't boasting, 'cause he never got past second base, and he wasn't asking for advice, he was just sharing. I was always supportive, even about Crystal, the dog he dated for a year.

"I got a full scholarship to Yale, and he got one to Cornell. The high school had never had such academic success. I was overjoyed — I was getting out of Fort Payne! Even though I think he wanted to get away too, Jake never said anything like that, just that he was proud that he would be the first in his family to go to college, get a good education.

"Ithaca's not that far from New Haven. I figured we'd get together for a football weekend, or in New York City. Three times we made plans to meet, but something always came up. 

"Since our scholarships only provided two roundtrips home each year, and we didn't want to waste one of them on Thanksgiving, we planned on being together then. My roommate invited us both for the holiday at her house, in the suburbs north of New York City.

"The Monday before, Jake called from the airport. His mother had had a heart attack, he was headed home. 

"All through the holiday, it was agony. He called every day with a report. He was a wreck. I was too, because I really like his mom. She survived, and Jake was still her nurse when I got home for Christmas. 

"The heart attack took a lot out of her. Rehab's gotten her to where she can walk pretty well, even drive. Her speech is okay, but she doesn't have the stamina to go back to work. So the family's in financial trouble, because she worked in one of the plants on the base and they need her income.

"After Christmas, school started up earlier for me than him. I was in New Haven when he called to tell me he wasn't going back to Cornell. I lost it! I cried for two days. I had escaped from Arkansas but Arkansas had sucked Jake back! Nobody could console me. They'd all heard about Jake this, Jake that, I think half of them didn't believe he really existed, he was so perfect. Now I had lost him.

"He's still there," she sighed. "We text, we talk. He's working as a mover, making good money, contributing at home and taking courses at the local branch of the state university. He's okay with the cards he's been dealt. Money's still real tight, probably always will be, he has to work.

"I joined the Asian-American Advocacy Consortium when I got to Yale, to find out who I am, my heritage. Asia's had more wars than Europe! China's expanded, contracted, gone isolationist. The Japanese did the same thing, hundreds of years of their own civil wars. 

"Americans don't know how large a country Vietnam is. All they remember is the last civil war. We've fought the Chinese I don't know how many times, and the last civil war got complicated with throwing out the French colonialists and the American intervention. It's fascinating. 

"My roommate worked on me to start dating. She fixed me up a couple of times and took me to mixers. She even got me a date for Dartmouth's Winter Carnival with a buddy of her boyfriend's. I got drunk for the first time, smoked my first joint, got cozy with the guy in his room. It was nice, but, well, I mean, there wasn't anything.

"I want JAKE! I LOVE him!" Now she was crying, wailing. "I'll never go back to Arkansas! The place is a dump! But Jake can't get away! It's tearing me up!"

I held her tightly. She was bawling into my chest and I had no idea what to do. I stroked her hair, kissed it, waited for her to calm.

"Aren't we a pair?" she sniffled as she pulled her head off my chest and leaned back on the couch. "You get your break-through but you can't seem to connect. I know who the one is but I can't get him to take the first step." She barked a harsh laugh.

Her cell rang. She flipped it open and at first spoke quietly to whoever was on the line, but then turned angry, and hung up. 

"You know how late it is?"

"No." I pulled out my cell. "Oh my god, it's almost one! I'm sorry, I kept you out too long. I'll take you back to your dorm."

She shook her head. "That was our trip leader. We can do what we want, but we have to check in with him if we're not going to be in the dorm past midnight. 

"He's this pushy guy, thinks all us girls should sleep with him 'cause he's Chinese and a hunk. When I told him where I was, he said 'giving it away to the scrawny white guy, eh? You don't know what you're missing.' He's drunk, and that makes me nervous. Can I stay here tonight?"

I was stunned by the request. "Uh, okay, sure." I stood up. "You can use the couch, I'll get some sheets," and bolted to my room.

When I came back, she had taken the cans to the kitchen and was sitting on the couch. 

"Got an extra t-shirt?"

"Sure. But why?"

"I like to sleep in a night shirt. One of yours ought to do the trick," she smiled.

"Uh, yeah, sure, okay, c'mon." We went into my room and I opened the drawer. "Take your pick." She took the top one and held it up against her. It hung slightly below her knees.

"This'll do fine. Can I borrow the visiting team toothbrush?"

I blushed. "Uh, fresh one in cellophane, second shelf in the medicine cabinet."

She came out in the shirt and smiled at how I had made up the couch.

"All the comforts of home, eh?"

"Yup." In the awkward silence, we just looked at each other.

"Good night. I'll leave my door open so you have the benefit of the air conditioner."

I dreamed about a sprite, like Tinker Bell. She hovered over me, lightly touching me with her wand, forgiving me for something I didn't know anything about. Over and over again I tried to capture her, but she flitted away.

Around seven I woke to find Jennifer on top of the sheet, spooned behind me, with the blanket over us both. I gently moved away, covered my nakedness with my hand, and went to pee. I checked the pile of her clothes and deduced that she only had the t-shirt on.

She was laying on her back, the blanket pulled up under her chin when I entered the room. I blushed and hustled under the covers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I said.

"I shouldn't be here, I'm sorry, I just, I just, I felt alone out there."

"That's okay. In fact it's fine. It's not often I wake up with a beautiful girl in my bed."

"Liar! You've bedded more girls than I've had dates in my whole life."

I blushed but took up the challenge. "But not one of them spoke with a Southern accent, none's under 5-4, and — well, you know what I mean."

"No I don't. Tell me."

"I mean," I fumbled, "I mean, maybe it's that you're so different than me, your experiences are so different, I don't know. But last night felt so good, so right. 

"I can't explain what came over me. I do holding it all in real well. I unloaded way too much personal stuff on you. I apologize for doing it, but it gave me the most wonderful dream. I've never talked so intimately with someone in my life. 

"When you gave a lot of the same thing back, I felt so, I dunno, so warm, so accepted. No one's ever done that to me, not even close. Facts, sure, but feelings, no. So I'm just glad you're here. And you are beautiful."

After the awkward pause that followed, I said "You like Cheerios?"

"Love Cheerios. I'll brush my teeth and meet you in the kitchen," and she bounced out to the bathroom. I got my robe and headed for the kitchen.

I had two bowls of Cheerios, the milk container and two glasses, spoons, mugs, and paper napkins on the coffee table when she emerged from the bathroom.

"I've got tea and instant coffee. Which would you like?"

"Coffee, with milk, please," she said as she plopped onto the couch, carefully tucking her legs under her and making sure the front of the t-shirt was pulled into her crotch. I made the coffee and we ate in silence. At one point, when she reached for the milk, the t-shirt pulled out and puddled in her lap.

"Is this what you usually do with a girl in the morning after she's spent the night with you?"

I coughed, and some milk came out of my nose. 

Here goes nothing.

"Uh, well, since it's almost always a weekday and we know each other, at least a little bit, we'll talk about what we're going to do today. We're at least acquaintances. Usually we'll go out to the union for breakfast.

"If it's a weekend morning, like today, maybe we'll take a shower together, then go back to bed and fuck each other's brains out." 

"Is that what you'd like to do with me?"

I looked at her very seriously. "Jennifer, you're taken. You are so taken, with Jake, even if he's in Arkansas and you're here. I can't even think of you that way."

"I've never slept in the same bed with a guy. Until last night."

I waited for her to continue.

"I couldn't get to sleep. I was thinking how similar we are, me trying to get started. I mean, our situations are different, but we're on the same path. I couldn't get to sleep. So I picked up and came into your room.

"You were on your side, smiling. I spread the blanket out and laid down under it. I felt your warmth. It was very nice."

"But Jake's the one, you and I both know that," I said, warily. "All you have to do is figure out how to, you know, get together."

"You're right, he is my one and my only. But I'm not going to see him this summer, not this fall, not even over Christmas break, 'cause my dad has this crazy thing about skiing, so we're going to Missouri for Christmas."

"So not till next summer? A year? That's a long wait."

"Yeah." We looked at each other.

"You could —"

"I mean —"

We both spoke at once.

"You go."

"No, that's okay, you first."

"Nope, I ain't talkin'."

"Ummm, Arkansas ejikashun spoken here?"

She giggled. "You're just like him."

"How so?"

"It's always banter, we never get to the point, we don't dare say what's on our minds. I'm afraid he'll run away if I make any sort of a move."

"And if I made a move?"

"I'd consider it seriously."

I brushed her lips with mine as I leaned into her. Their softness and her sleep smell stirred me. I rimmed her lips and reached across her to run my fingers through her hair. She opened her mouth slightly. Our tongues met and I couldn't help smiling.

Jennifer wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled us together. She tasted like coffee, milk, Cheerios. I fought my desire and stayed upright as I held her head in my hands, kneading her neck at the base of her skull. 

When I gave in, it was to her chest pushing against mine. I fell backwards, carrying her with me.

She sat up, straddling my chest, a broad grin on her face. "Now I've gottcha where I wantcha!"

"Jennifer, we can't. This isn't right! You're —".

"I'm right where I want to be." She reached behind her and grabbed my sudden stiffness. "And I know where I want this to be."

"No! No, please, don't do this! You'll regret it."

"I will not! I want this!" She squeezed, hard.

I humped her up in the air and slid off the couch. When she came down, I pinned her against the back. She dissolved into tears and her whole body shook as she wailed.

Well, this is a switch, turning down sex with a good-looking girl. Why not, you can get it anytime you want, from any of three girls. No, it's not about the sex, it's about her. She wants something you shouldn't give her, she's using sex to convince herself of something. God this is circular.

As her sobs slowed, Jennifer pulled away, looking so miserable it hurt.

"You don't want me?"

"Not hardly. You felt that."

"Then why? You like sex, you said I'm attractive, it's a weekend morning. You want to shower first, then do it, is that it? You said —"




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 16



I took a deep breath, exhaled, and reached for her hand. The t-shirt was now bunched above her hips, giving me a decent view of her pussy.

"Look at us, Jennifer. You're right, I have opportunities, but here I am, alone, prime fucking time, but alone. Why? Because I think I'm maturing. I'll be 20 in four days and I'm thinking my horndog days may be over. I want something more, but I'm afraid I'll never be able to get it.

"You know what it is you want, and you're prepared to give it. Commitment. But you want to give it to somebody else, not me, and you're afraid that if you offer it will be rejected. 

"Besides, Jake's what, a thousand miles away? And you won't see him for, what, a year? And now sex has shown up in a way you hadn't let it before."

She'd been wiping her eyes and had re-tucked the shirt over her pussy. Now she straightened up.

"You're right. I'm in love with a guy I probably can't have, who I've never had the guts to tell how I feel. I should know better, I'm too young, too unformed, to be thinking that way. 

"But I've been crushing on Jake for 6 years now. He's all I've ever wanted! I can't give that up!" She was tearing up again.

"How do I cope? I can't walk away," she sniffled. "I hate Arkansas, but it's in me so deep I'll have to cut it out with a knife. I'll never go back. Jake can get away, I can help him, we can escape together, go somewhere, anywhere, make a life, have sweet multiracial babies!" She crashed against me, bawling.

"It's impossible, isn't it?" she said when she finally pulled away from me, wiping her nose on the shirt. Her eyes were red and she was sniffling.

"No, it's not impossible," I soothed. "Tough, yes, particularly since he's so committed to his parents. Your goal's not wrong, it's just that it requires so much sacrifice on your part that it's tearing you up."

We sat, apart, on the couch, quiet.

"So, okay, where are we?" she said.

"We're in my living room, with me having had and lost two erections since I woke up. I'm still looking at a beautiful girl, it's Saturday morning, and we have no obligations."

"Are you coming on to me?"

"Said by one who not so long ago jumped me and nearly squeezed the life out of my cock."

"Okay, okay, point taken. So what do we do about it?"

"How's this? We'll approach it with male logic. You get out of here, go back to your dorm, check in, and make yourself presentable for the rest of your life. Think about what you want.

"If Jake's what you have to do, 'cause it will tear you up not to, blow me a kiss and move on.

"If you want to come back and spend the weekend in and out of bed with me, call me before noon. Bring enough stuff so that you can leave here Monday morning and go straight to class."

"That's pretty blunt."

"Jennifer, I can't fall in love with you, you're already in love with Jake."

"What's love got to do with it?"

I shot her a hard look. "Only you can answer that."

"Do you want me to come back?"

I hesitated, then "Yes."

"So you get to spend two days in bed with a 19-year-old virgin."

"With a very beautiful 19-year-old woman, yes, you bet."

Now it was her turn to take a deep breath. I stood up and she followed.

"Okay," she exhaled, "deal. Give me your cell." She called her phone, which rang four times.

"Okay, done. God, this is so bloodless."

"No it's not! In fact," I said, bending to kiss her forehead, "it's very romantic.

"Look at it this way. Girl meets boy, girl loses boy, girl meets second boy, who conspires with her to get first boy back. Girl succeeds, she and boy number one live happily ever after."

"Don't get your hopes up, Carl. I really do have to think about this. But I will call you before noon and let you know, one way or the other."

I gathered the dishes and we washed them. I swabbed the coffee table while Jennifer took her clothes to the bathroom. Dressed, she joined me on the couch.

"Y'know, this may actually work. How about we dispense with the drama? I say 'yes' right now and we jump into bed?"

"Nope. We have to be apart before we can come together, Jen. Can I call you Jen? 'Jennifer' has too many syllables."

"Don't change the subject. Yes you can. And I am capable of making a rational decision on the spot. Y'all know they teach that in Arkansas."

"And so can I. I could sweep you up in my arms, hurl you onto my bed, and have my way with you. But where's the romance? We both want the romance, if I don't miss my guess."

She grinned sheepishly, then giggled. She told me where she lived and I drew a map of how to get there. With a quick peck on my unbandaged cheek, she was out the door.

It's not like you couldn't amuse yourself for a weekend, tiger, without taking on a new girl. Yeah, but she's nice, sweet, good looking, and it's a public service. Besides, she'll be gone in five days. And be a new notch on your bed post. Yeah, like you keep track. Well, didn't notice you getting any the last few days. Shut up, change the sheets.

As I was pulling clean sheets out of the drawer (why not be prepared?), I came across the candles I'd planned on using with Carrie. This time they would get used. I put the tall one on my desk and the big stubby one on the dresser. This was going to be fun.

When the phone chirped around ten, I figured it was Jen.

"Carl? It's detective Stymolowski. I wanted to update you on the robbery."

"Did you arrest the guy at the hospital?"

"We ID'd him from the surveillance camera pictures, so we asked him what happened. Right away he said he wanted a lawyer, but we pointed out that he wasn't being arrested, the hospital had called, said he'd been assaulted. 

"He said he'd gotten into a fight at a bar over a girl, but couldn't remember which bar. Then he said he'd been mugged and robbed when he left the bar. I gave him an 'oh come on' look and he clammed up and said he wanted to leave.

"We took him to headquarters and the uniforms brought in two kids, one of whom had seen him running from your building and the other who thought she'd sold him the mask. 

"We arrested him and got a search warrant. We found your money envelopes in his trash basket. He was held overnight and arraigned this morning."

Wow.

"There'll probably be a story in the paper tomorrow, or online, or something. I gotta go, gotta call the Chinese girl and update her. I'll let you know if anything further develops. By the way, how's the face?"

"Good. A little touchy. That reminds me, I should go over to the emergency room and get the dressings changed. Thanks for the update."

The ER was quiet, so the nurse was glad for the diversion. "It's healing nicely. Look, I'm just gonna put a bandaid on your ear. For the big cut, here's some wide tape and some gauze. Watch me put it on your cheek so you can do this yourself." I got a good look in the mirror as she showed me how to apply the dressing and tape over the stitches. It looked like the laces on a football. 

"Got it?" she asked. "Okay, here's a roll of tape, some gauze, and some bandaids. Keep things dry, change the dressing every morning. If it gets hot, come back, but I don't see any reason why."

By now it was after eleven and I figured Jen wasn't going to call. I was on my way to the varsity softball field to scope out camera angles for Carrie's double-header with the Lisa Fernandez travelling softball team next weekend when a 203 area code called.

"Hi Carl. Your offer still stand?"

"You bet. Where are you?"

"In front of your apartment building. I was afraid you'd changed your mind when you didn't answer the buzzer."

"I had to get the dressing changed on my cheek. I'm ten minutes away. Keep your pants on."

"Oh you say the sweetest things."

It had gotten pretty hot and we were both sweating as I opened the door and we stepped out of our sandals into the cool air. She had this heavy canvas sack, which I deposited in the corner of my bedroom.

"Travelling light?" I snarked.

"I'm a girl," she said, stating the obvious. "It's just hair stuff, two changes of clothes, toiletries kit, purse, coffee maker, real coffee. Only the basics."

She was wearing the same skirt and blouse she had on last night. As we plunked down on the couch, she folded her hands in her lap, locked her eyes on mine, and cleared her throat. 

"I'm here because I want to be. This is not about Jake, or me and Jake. I want to be with you."

I looked straight back as I took her hand in both of mine. "And I want you." 

"And I want you without a condom."

That's different.

"I know you don't have anything," I said, "but you don't know the same about me. Do you think that's wise?"

"You didn't have any reason to lie to me when you told me about your club and how your summer girlfriends trust you. So yes. I've always thought my first time should be this way."

"Are you taking birth control?"

"I've been on birth control since I got to Yale. They offer the shot. I get one every three months, my last one was in June." She laid her second hand on top of mine, and sighed. 

I made my move.

"Wanna neck?"

"I'm not sure I know how, I haven't dated much."

Her lips were soft, just like last time. And just like last time, she opened her mouth willingly as I probed. Our tongues wrestled and she locked her hands around my neck. I leaned back against the arm rest and pulled her with me, not bothering to adjust my erection. She wiggled on it. When we had to break for air, she was giddy.

"This is great! I really turn you on, eh?" she bubbled, right in my face. I grinned as wickedly as I could and acknowledged her insight by humping against her, and she humped back.

"Yeah, and so do these!" I said as I pulled her skirt up and slid my hands into her panties to grab her ass cheeks. She squealed and ground herself onto my erection. We locked lips again.

When we broke, we scrambled to our feet.

"Let's lock that," I said, gesturing at the front door, and she flipped the latch.

As I turned from locking the bedroom door, there was this raven-haired beauty, standing at the foot of my bed, her eyes on fire with lust and nervousness. She was small, but hardly delicate. Her chest's heaving betrayed her excitement and the window with its partially-drawn curtains backlit her like an angel.

Instead of jumping her, I guided her over to my desk and took the match that I'd laid beside the tall candle and struck it. As it flared, her eyes grew wide.

"We light this candle, together," I intoned, handing her the flaming stick and taking her hand in mine. "We will remember our first time always. It will be ours alone and the memory will last forever."

Her grin was huge. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"Didn't I tell you I'm a romantic?"

The wick caught and I blew out the match. Then I pulled her to me, kissed her softly, and steered us to the side of the bed. 

"Now we're going to undress each other."

I slowly opened each of the four buttons on her blouse, gently pushed it off her shoulders, and laid it on my chair. Her nipples were showing through her white bra and the intensity in her eyes spurred me on.

"Turn around," I croaked. Her bra sprang as I unclipped it. I cupped her breasts from behind and rolled first one nipple and then the other. I kissed her neck and she shuddered, then moaned, and pushed her ass back into my erection.

"Now me," I said, turning her around. She pulled my shirt out of my pants and I bent forward, extending my arms so she could pull it over my head. She folded it and laid it on top of her bra and blouse.

"Kiss my nipples," I whispered.

Since they were pretty much right in front of her mouth, she sucked one, then switched to the other, and I moaned.

When she let go, I knelt before her and looked up at her.

"You are so beautiful, I want to see all of you." I drew the zipper on the side of her skirt down, then reached up and popped the button. As the skirt fell to the floor, I hooked my thumbs into the elastic of her white panties and checked her eyes for permission. She nodded.

When I lifted her left foot up and out of the panties, she steadied herself with a hand on my shoulder. She gasp-moaned and shivered as I kissed the instep. 

Now she was nude and I had her pussy in front of me.

Her bush was a tangled mass of black hair, running deeply into the valley of her legs. I couldn't see her pussy lips through it, but I smelled her arousal.

As I kissed the inside of first one and then the other of her thighs, her arousal smell grew and I was rewarded with a deep moan and another shiver. 

I stood before her. "Me."

She pulled down the zipper and confronted the bulge inside. Quickly she popped the button and let my cargoes fall to the floor. 

When she hooked her fingers in my briefs and began to pull them down, she caught the tip of my cock in the cotton. Surprised, she stopped, then recovered and pulled the elastic away, letting them drop to the floor.

After she did the instep-kissing thing, she started to stand.

"Not yet. Please Jen, touch my balls." Her eyes snapped up at me and I nodded. I felt her hand, tentative, lift them up and a little out, then drop them.

"Now kiss the top of my cock." She took my shaft tentatively and tilted it toward her lips.

"You won't, uh, —"

"Oh no, not yet, it's okay, just kiss it, please." She hesitantly kissed the shaft, then let it go, and it bounced. She had to have felt the thrill that rolled through me.

I cupped her chin, drew her upright, and moved us to the bed, then lifted the sheet. She slipped under it and when I slid in next to her, she turned to me and we reached for each other.

"You are very beautiful, do you know that?"

She grinned broadly. "Y'all're just saying that to get me into bed."

"You may not have noticed, but I already have you in bed. You really are beautiful," I croaked through my suddenly parched lips. I stroked her soft cheek and we kissed.

I kissed around her mouth, then across her cheek to the space behind her ear, I dribbled soft kisses down her neck to her throat. Her ragged breathing confirmed how excited she was getting. I felt one of her hands stroking my hair. 

To reach her torso, I pushed the sheet off us and moved my lips across her chest. When I arrived at the far breast, I surrounded the nipple with my lips and sucked and flicked my tongue over it. Jen jumped and grabbed my hair with both hands.

"Oh, you like that?"

"Don't you dare stop. Y'all have my full attention."

I lip-walked to the near breast and ministered to its now-erect nipple. While I sucked on it, my fingers twisted the other one, softly at first, but more firmly. "Oh god," she murmured softly, and pulled my head into her chest.

I alternated between her breasts and played with her nipples for several long minutes, watching and listening to her grow more excited.

By the time I had slow-kissed to her navel, Jen had unconsciously opened her legs. I frenched her navel, blew softly across the small pool of wetness I'd left, and she moaned deeper than she ever had.

My fingers reached the top of her bush and played through the thicket. I shifted to more easily access her pussy and, as I bent over her and brought my face between her legs, she opened herself wider. I licked my middle finger.

Her moisture drew me in and my finger found the puffy outer lips. "Oh, god" I heard her moan, as she unconsciously lifted her hips. I probed gently for her opening and, once I found it, moved slowly inside, just enough to part them and encounter her wetness.

I glanced at her, partly because I felt she had left off playing with my hair and partly because I wanted to confirm the effect that I was having on her.

Her eyes were closed but her mouth was slightly open, a tiny trickle of drool wending its way down her jaw. Her hands were on her chest, gently stroking her nipples. 

I licked my finger again and started playing with her opening, slowly sliding from the bottom to the top. She groaned as I wandered through her bush.

She spread her thighs as soon as she felt me reaching between them. I looked up when I sensed her lifting her head from the pillow. She smiled and I pantomimed a kiss.

As I licked through her bush, the tangle of her pussy hair gradually got wet enough so I could tongue-comb it aside, revealing her puffy pink and inviting gates. I ran my tongue from the bottom of her opening to the top and she sighed deeply. I licked up and down softly, ever so slowly, maybe half-a-dozen times.

When I sucked the left lip into my mouth, using the lightest pressure, it startled her and she jumped, so I let go. She settled and I resumed. She moaned as I worked first that lip and then the other, over and over.

Licking up to her clit, I moved equally slowly. First she shivered, then she rose to meet my mouth, and then she settled back and moaned softly.

Her clit was small, not tiny, but I'd missed it when I first sucked through her folds. When I found it, it turned out to be a short, hard nub, and gradually it emerged as a suckable sprout.

She was beginning to roll. I left off her clit to lick her slit again, and she groaned and lifted her hips urgently. When I moved back to her clit, she dropped back. When I began flicking her clit with my tongue, her hips began pumping. I looked up and saw she was really working her nipples.

I began really using my finger in her, playing with the lips, gently probing into her folds. I pushed inside just enough to encounter her hymen, so after a few circles around I slid out and returned to working her clit in earnest.

Jen's breathing was now shallow and coming in bursts. I felt her belly muscles tighten, and marvelled as her orgasm began to burst over her.

She was thrashing around, her black hair all over the pillow. Her pelvis slammed hard against my face and I burrowed in against her pussy, stabbing my tongue into her opening as she writhed.

She was ready, so I slobbed my thumb and forefinger and wet my more-than-ready cockhead. Sitting back just far enough to get my cock in front of me, I aimed at the center of her pussy and spread her lips with my fingers. Then I shifted forward and was in her.

She seemed not to notice, as her orgasm thundered on. Her pussy was tight around my first three inches and I held myself above her as she finished writhing and slowly came down to earth.

When she was settled, I eased my cock almost out and then moved back into her. Her eyes flew open.

"You're —"

"Yes. Do you like it?" I clenched my ass and my cock spasmed.

"What? Oh yeah, oh god, yesssss!" 

"Good. Now I'm going to move deeper into you, so lift your hips and meet me." The first time she was tentative and out of sync, but by the third thrust she was exactly there. I had gotten completely inside her.

"Oh god, Jen, that is soooooo gooood," I crooned.

"Ohhhhhh god, yeah."

"Feel me, Jen, feel my cock, I want you to cum for me."

"Oh god I do, it's so big, I, it's so —" and her incoherence was interrupted by the start of her second orgasm. This time she grabbed my shoulders and locked her heels around my ass, pulling me into her.

I upped the tempo, and she adjusted, meeting me stroke for stroke. Soon I was crashing against her pubic bone, wanting to release my accumulated lust, and she was meeting me every time.

The lights behind my eyes exploded as my cock started its familiar glorious spurting.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, oh god Jen, I'm CUMMMMing!"

"Oh yes oh yes oh yes, ohhhhh," she huffed as she humped her hips against my thrusts, her pussy fully impaled as my cock churned in and out.

We coasted down onto the bed. I clasped her in my arms and rolled us to our sides. We clung together, struggling to recover our breath.

"Your, uh, your penis, it's retracting," she whispered as it happened.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 17



It was probably fifteen minutes later when I woke. She was still in the crook of my arm, snoring softly.

It had been her first time, a choice she'd made even as she pined for the boy-next-door back in Arkansas who had no clue how she felt about him. Now she was here, in a summer academic program more than a thousand miles away, trying to balance that yearning against an urgent sexual need for somebody she barely knew. 

Me.

She stirred, looked around, then remembered where she was and why she was here.

"We did it, didn't we?" she perked.

"And did it well," I said, kissing her. Jen grinned and kissed me back.

"And now," I said, stretching, "it's on with the rest of our lives. Which means we hit the bathroom."

I stood and offered my hand. She took it and swung herself upright. As I flipped the bedroom door open, she glanced back and saw the bloody spot on the sheet.

"Me?"

"Us, lover, us. You could've done it without me, but you didn't. C'mon, let's pee." I stood at the toilet and loosed a stream, then grabbed a washcloth, ran it through the warm water, and knelt before her.

"What, wha—" she stammered as I reached to wipe her off.

"Cleanup. Didn't you feel this trickling down your leg as you walked in here?" I caught the cum that had dribbled to her knee with my middle finger and extended it to her. She looked first at it, then down, and her ears turned red.

"God I love this sight," I said as I drew a figure 8 on her belly with the cum. I swabbed each leg and into her bush. "It's the sign of a great fuck."

"That's the word you like to use?"

"Yes. Overuse's made it coarse, but there's nothing more direct. I think the others are just euphemisms. You have any preferences?"

"I've always thought about Jake and me 'making love.' Would that be okay?"

"Sure," and I stood and rinsed the cloth. "Now me." She started in on my cock.

"There's, uh, some blood on your, uh, penis," she blushed.

"Proves I participated back there, right?" She giggled, then rinsed the cloth and hung it over the shower rod.

"You need to pee?"

"Oh, well, uh, yeah, but, uh . . . ," she stammered.

"Okay, go to it, I'll go get the sheet." When I came back, the door was closed. I knocked. "Who is it?" said a high-pitched, comedic voice.

"Naked inspector."

She had actually locked the door, but opened it just enough to peek out. "Oh my, you are naked, inspector."

I laughed and she threw open the door. "And so are you, and you're beautiful." She grinned shyly, so I kissed her and she kissed me back. 

I ran cold water on the bloody spot, then knuckle-scrubbed the blood and cum until I got the sheet as clean as it was going to get. It joined the washcloth.

We walked back to the bedroom hand-in-hand and re-made the bed with a fresh bottom sheet. When we were done, I led her to my desk and handed her the tall candle, which had burned halfway down.

"Our first time is done, we're moving on," I intoned. "With this candle we will light¬¬ a larger one." I led her to my dresser, where the big stubby was. "This candle represents the next stage. 

"The first time leads to the second time, and all the times to follow." Jen lit the wick of the bigger candle.

"We've started on the journey, so extinguish our first candle." She held her index finger in front of the flame and blew softly. The flame instantly disappeared.

"What was that?" I asked, amazed.

"Dad doesn't like wax all over the place when you blow out a candle. He taught me how to blow out a flame without splattering the wax. Neat, eh?"

We slipped into bed.

"That was wonderful, Jen. You know that, right?"

"Oh Carl, I have so many questions. Do you mind?"

"No, I love it. Shoot."

"Okay. First of all, I didn't feel you breaking my hymen. There must have been one, I saw the blood, but I didn't feel it. What happened?"

"One of the reasons I went down on you — I mean, aside from the fact that I wanted to eat you — is that, when you're having an orgasm, you're so overwhelmed that anything additional don't register."

"Sensory overload," she said.

"Right. So when I pushed into you, you didn't feel it in anything like the way you would have if it was a separate experience. You weren't all tense and anxious, it just happened. And, I must say," I grinned, self-congratulatorially, "I got the timing pretty good." 

"Oh, yeah, I didn't feel any pain, that's for sure. It's just that, all of a sudden, you were there. Wow, pretty smart," and she kissed me.

"Do you do that with all your virgin girlfriends?"

"Foreplay is important," I said. "Whether it's your first time or thousandeth time, first-time lovers are anxious about what will happen. 'Will she think I'm any good?' 'Does he think I'm easy?' 

"For a girl, there's additional stress, the anticipation of pain. Doing it this way, you weren't tensed up, so it went easily. When you finished your orgasm, there I was, and you were ready for your first fuck.

"In fact," now I was in full pontificating mode, but I was sincere, "I don't like to cum until after you've cum. When we both know what we're doing with each other, we work together to make each other cum. It's heaven that way."

"But I didn't have any idea what I was doing."

"How could you? That's why everybody's first time has to be gotten out of the way. Once I was in you, then we worked together to get you a second orgasm and a first one for me. God, it was glorious," and we kissed again.

"You use the word 'cum.' That's 'ejaculate,' right?"

"Well, when either one of us has an orgasm, we 'come,' c-o-m-e. For boys, the physical stuff, sperm and semen, is 'cum.' I deposit my cum in you, 'c-u-m.' But when I get excited, it's all the same. Personally, I use 'cum' as a noun and a verb."

"Pedant."

"And proud of it," I smirked.

"And 'fuck'?"

"Well, leaving aside its overuse as an adverb or adjective, like WTF and 'fucking idiot,' I like 'fuck' — it's just plain descriptive. There are all sorts of other ways to describe it. Like you like 'making love,' which is gauzier. 

"I don't like to use it all the time. If I were trying to seduce you on the dance floor, I'd more likely say 'would you like to go back to my place and make love?' than I would 'wanna go back to my place and fuck?' 

"But when we're really going at it, 'FUCK ME!' kicks my motor into overdrive. You asked if 'making love' was okay, and the answer is, yeah, sure, of course. Just don't be shy about using 'fuck' at the right time. It's a real turn on."

"What do you call your penis?"

"Huh?"

"When it slid out of me, you said something like 'good by little man.' Is that what you call it? Or do you say johnson, pecker, prick, steel rod — when you think about it, what do you call it?"

"Oh, uh, I never really thought about it. It's just my cock. Yeah, cock. Is that okay?"

"Oh sure, yeah. I just want to be on the same page with you."

"Alright," I said, "and what shall we call your pussy?"

"How about 'here kitty-kitty-kitty'?" she deadpanned.

"Maybe not. Too long. Pick a word with one or two syllables, one that your friends will understand when you talk about it."

"You're planning on telling other people about us?" I think she was teasing me.

"Oh, no, no. Sorry. I mean, when you discuss sex with your friends. I mean —"

"Yeah, I get it. Alright, pussy it is."

She changed the subject. "Are you really going to spend from now till Monday morning in bed with me?"

"If you'll stay, we'll fuck till we're too sore or I just can't muster an erection, and then I'll wear you out with my tongue. If, on the other hand, you want to stop, or leave, you can, any time, just say so."

"That's pretty generous of you," she said dryly.

"I like you, you're really verbal, and you have a fantastic body. And somehow you've touched me where I've never been touched, so I'm very grateful, and I want more. I'm gonna hang on to you for as long as I can."

"Y'all're putting me on a pedestal, just like Jake. I didn't do anything I wouldn't do for anybody else, I swear."

"Doesn't matter. Maybe we won't reach that point again, I don't know. Maybe it's going to just be fuck, screw, suck, cum, whatever, till Monday morning, then away we go. Tell you the truth, I don't know. I don't want it to happen on some sort of schedule, and I'm sort of apprehensive about how much further I'll get into myself, but I'm willing to try.

"Hey, tell me," I said, shifting gears, "what's this pedestal thing that Jake has for you?"

"Later. Right now I'm asking the questions."

"Oh, okay, sorry. Keep going."

"Am I a good lay?"

"You are a raging cauldron of sexual energy." I kissed her, hard, and she kissed back. "You wanted it, didn't hold back, and caught on fast. 

"I think most of the girls in the club see me as one of their 'two-fucks-a-night-twice-in-a-week' guy. I don't think they really care who the cock is attached to. There are some guys they like more than others, and they're experienced enough to stroke my ego, but I'm a weekday-night roll in the hay.

"When I started out, that was fine with me. But I've gotten to like some of them, so a night with them means something to me. I'm just afraid none of them feel that way about me.

"Still," I brightened, "the club's given me the confidence to move on, so I'll find someone, I know it."

"I repeat, am I good in bed?"

"Right now? You're a raw rookie. Enthusiastic, don't hold back, hot to trot. We're gonna develop your stamina and inventiveness. But you sure have the basics down."

My cock had been hardening as Jen had led the conversation. I looked over and saw she was running her tongue across her lips.

"Kiss me, turn me on, no hands," I ordered.

"No fair! I don't know that stuff," she whined.

"Points off for whining. Let's try —"

"No! Lemme think." I could almost see the wheels turning. "Alright, I get it. I'll kiss this. Now, no cumming," she ordered, and she bent over and kissed my shaft, on the side.

"Points off for evasion of the obvious," I said quickly.

"Whaddya mean? Y'all wanted me to kiss it before."

"There's a whole world of my body to explore, don't go where you've been before."

"That's not fair! Y'all can't be judge and jury!" she whined, clearly frustrated.

"You want a hint? It'll be points off because I had to tell you, but you can earn them back with some creativity."

"Yeah, sure, anything to get this moving." If she'd been standing she would have stamped her foot.

"Okay, build up to getting me so hot I can't stand it. Make me your slave by fucking my ear."

"WHAAAAT?!"

"Remember when we first went to bed? I kissed you under your ear, then down your neck. The area around the ear is an erogenous zone — from the Greek, 'eros' meaning love, and 'genous' meaning —"

"Shut UP!" she said, and smacked my arm. "I know what it means!"

She shifted and moved her mouth to my ear. 

"No rush Jen, play with it, make me want it."

"Like?"

"Rim it, lick it, use your tongue, your lips, in and out maybe, be creative."

And for the next five minutes Jen worked her way around my left ear, kissing and tonguing it. When she found how sensitive my earlobe was, she sighed with relief. She elicited a couple of shivers from me and giggled in triumph. When she stuck her tongue deep inside, without warning, I squealed and shot toward the ceiling.

"Gotcha!"

"No fair! You read it in a book!"

"Did not! Anyway, I scored. Whadda I get?"

"You get to move further down my body. Make me beg you."

"Bullshit! At this rate it'll be Monday morning before I get fucked again."

"Bingo! You said the magic word!" I rolled over to her and stuffed my tongue into her mouth. She grabbed my shoulders and we tongue-wrestled.

When we broke for air, I flipped onto my back and pulled her on top.

"Okay lover, you're going to do the fucking this time."

"I don't know —"

"Fucking is fucking. Cock in pussy, stroke-stroke-stroke. Only this time you're on top, so you're gonna do the stroking. Slide down onto my hips." She started to move backwards but ran into my cock. "Humpff," she muttered as she reached behind herself, pushed it down, and slid into position.

"Good. Are you hot for this?"

"Oh yeah!"

"Okay, get my cockhead good and wet, really wet."

"How?"

"Use your mouth. Or rub it in your pussy."

"You won't —"

"You know I won't. Now, make me really wet." She bent over and licked up the shaft and tentatively around the cockhead.

"Okay, now you've done it. Slot my cock at the front door of your pussy. Use your hands."

Her face a map of intensity, Jen spread the forest of her bush aside and moved my cock to her opening. Her hair fell over her face as she leaned forward and it wasn't easy for her to see what she was doing, but she got there, even if she had to push her hair back twice.

"Here?"

"Yes, feels like it. Oh god does it feel like it, oh yeah. Now, lift up and lower yourself onto me, slowly, use your hand to spread yourself, move till you've got it inside, slowly, slowly, slooowleeeee. If it hurts, stop."

When the head was in, she stopped.

"It hurts a little. Is it okay?"

"Hurts or sore?"

"Well, yeah, sore's more like it. That's the hymen, right? But you broke it."

"We sure did, but that was barely an hour ago, so you'd figure to be a little sore. Slide down slow, take as long as you need to, don't rush it." I stroked her thighs and drunk in her concentration as she tested herself against my cockhead. 

When she got me past the sore spot, Jen broke out the grin. "You're in, oh god, that feels so nice, I am so full of you." She gave a little bounce.

"Okay, now what do you want to do?"

"C'mon, Carl, stop treating me like a kid. I don't know, I wanna —" and I spasmed my cock.

"Ohhhhhh! What's that?"

"That's what it will feel like when you start moving around."

She got the idea and ran with it. Starting slowly, she moved left and right, and I groaned. She moved up and I groaned some more. She didn't know what to do with her hands so she first folded them behind her head, then set them on her hips. When she did that, she thrust her chest out and I could easily reach her breasts and tweak her nipples.

"EEEEEE! Don't do that, I can't concentrate!"

"Then go by instinct. Fuck me Jen, fuck me!"

"Damn right!" Now she was moving her hips aggressively and I reluctantly left off her nipples and enjoyed the scene as they flopped around.

When the orgasm hit her she threw her head back and flapped her arms, sending her hair flying. At one point I couldn't see her face, her hair was all over it, but she didn't care. As she started to calm, I moved in on her clit with my moistened thumb.

"No, no, don't, please, I'm so sensitive, please —" but I thought I could send her around again. Certainly her clit was out and she responded to my thumbing. I worked it up and down, and Jen churned on my cock, huffing and puffing, never slowing down.

She almost pulled off when the second orgasm started. I had to grab her thigh with my free hand to hold her on me. Finally, as she calmed, she slumped on my chest with my cock still hard inside her.

She folded herself into my shoulder and caressed my bandaged cheek, too spent to do anything more. When I spasmed my cock inside her, she squeezed her thighs to keep me from doing it again. It must have been ten minutes before she regained enough sense to speak.

"What was that all about?" she said through the haze.

"That was your reward for fucking my ear," I said softly.

"All that for one erogenous zone?"

"It's a very powerful place. From the Greek, 'eros' —"

"Shut up," she whispered dreamily, "I know what it means."

She was just drifting off when she became aware of my stiff cock. 

"Hey, you're still hard. Didn't you cum?"

"Nope."

"Why not? You got me to cum twice." She thought about it. "You got some sort of control over when you cum?"

"Yeah, I want to give you pleasure before taking my own."

"You can do that?"

"Well, it certainly helps when your lover cums first. You," and I patted her shoulder, "have a hair-trigger clitoris and a pussy with every nerve ending set on 'explode.' Want another one?"

"Not right now, I just can't. Let me rest, I need to regroup." She snuggled down and drifted off. I got soft and slid out.

God this is fun! Probably couldn't make a living teaching virgins how to fuck, but you like it, don't you? Real good for the ego. But is this all? I'm here because of how she got to me, I didn't see the need to take on Margery's virgin-slayer job. Julia was a special case. Still, until the right girl comes along . . . No, you know better, you have to go out and search for her, you can't wait around like Jen is. I mean, Prince Charming lived in a castle and had need for a wife. So do you, right?

*

I woke up around three . Jen was still dozing, so I sat up and leaned against the headboard. She stirred, looked around, then stretched and grinned up at me. She ran her hand across my chest and down to my crusty but flaccid cock.

"I don't know how you did it, but y'all held out on me. This time I'm going to make you cum. But you have to tell me how you did it."

"Why?" 

"I'm at a serious disadvantage here, what with all your experience. Y'all've got to be honest with me, tell me how I can catch up."

"C'mon Jen, fucking's a contact sport, but it's not a competitive one. It's an expression," I pontificated, "of the love and respect a man and a woman have for each other."

"Bullshit!" she shot back. "Y'all're gonna put out for me, I'm gonna see your cum, or feel your cum, 'cause I'm gonna make you cum."

"All right, I'll tell you how to do it." I kissed her and slid down onto my back.

"By the very nature of fucking, you fuck my entire cock. But in reality, only the head is sensitive. If you want me to cum, you have to concentrate on that. So when you've got me in you, make sure you're working the head."

"That's it?"

"Not everything, but that's the essential part. Boy secret: we're simple creatures, the little head does way too much thinking in our lives. Take care of it, we'll follow you anywhere."

She wiggled her face down to my crotch, grabbed my flaccidity, and spoke directly to the head.

"Pay attention bubba. Y'all 'n' me are gonna get to be real good friends." She pulled it to her lips, kissed it, then took it into her mouth and rolled her tongue over it. Satisfied, she moved back to my face.

"Okay, I think we have an understanding. Now what?"

"Well, first we're gonna clean up. But then you're going to give me a blowjob."

"WHAAAAAT! Oh no I'm not. That's gross, everyone says so. Besides, that's not fucking."

"Suddenly you know everything there is to know about fucking?"

"No, no, but I mean, that's just oral sex."

"And my eating you to an orgasm, that was 'just' oral sex?"

"No, no, that was really good." The wheels were turning again. After maybe ten seconds of thought, she sighed.

"Alright, alright. What're we gonna do?"

"By definition, from the boy's perspective, the sex act is cock in pussy, stroke-stroke-stroke, cum gloriously. Male masturbation is boy cumming by using some other stimulus, usually his hand. There are two ways for a girl to participate: in either case, you take over the manipulation. You can do it with your hand, which is called a handjob, where I spurt into the air. Or you can make me cum by using your mouth. Of course you can combine your hand and your mouth in either one, but the distinction is where my cum goes."

"Okay. The girls talked about 'jerking off' their boyfriends. Hand job?"

"Yup. Classical way of delaying a guy from pushing for sex."

"And a blowjob?"

"Boy's obviously getting a lot closer. I don't know, Jen," I said, suddenly feeling my old inadequacies bubbling up. "Until I got started with the club, I never even got close to getting either one. 




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 17



"I've gone from jerking off since sixth grade to alluva sudden getting really good blowjobs from real girls, with nothing in between. I don't know anything about the intermediate steps, necking and petting and getting slapped for putting my hand on a breast, all that stuff." I sighed. "It's always the girl who's in charge."

"Poor myopic bastard. Girls have urges, just like boys. But girls get pregnant. Almost half the births in the U. S. last year were to unmarried girls, and more than half the abortions. Even with birth control, stuff happens. We had girls walking around my high school six, eight months pregnant, no shame, but they'd lost their futures. I took care that I wasn't going to lose my future."

She brightened. "So that's how I became the female masturbation champion of DeKalb County."

I snapped to attention. "Female masturbation champion?"

"Yup. Well, I mean, there wasn't a public competition or anything, but I decided I was. I did it at least once a day, sometimes twice. When I was closing in on my period, sometimes three times. Got pretty good at it."

"Oh, tell me more," I said. 

"Pervert."

"Guilty. If I can get you to spill on where your buttons are, I can send you over the moon like that," and I snapped my fingers.

"Then I'd better hold out, 'cause y'all nearly killed me back there.

"Anyways," she continued, "we're getting off the topic. It's your masturbation we're discussing. Okay, back to your penis, uh, cock."

"I think you're pretty far along on this, actually," I said. "You know about the slow build-up from fucking my ear. You saw the signs when I was getting excited. Watch me, talk to me, listen to my breathing — god, this is turning me on."

It was true. Jen's hand was on my floppy cock, not doing anything with it, but the conversation was having its effect. She stroked it and it moved.

"I'm going to lie here. You get comfy, move around if you need to. First you want to get me hard. Use your mouth and your hands. Play with my balls, too, they're part of the team. Take your time, like you did with my ear. Try things, see if I like them. If I don't, make changes."

"How long will it take?"

"You are way too competitive. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes, I don't know."

She began stroking with dry fingers. "Please Jen, make them wet. You don't have to use all five fingers. Thumb and forefinger, in a circle. But vary everything." I wanted to get going.

Jen licked her fingers and shifted to kneel beside my hip, so she could keep an eye on me. Her hair fell onto her face, and she impatiently pushed it back. 

She began by stroking up and down, watching my expression carefully. When I moaned encouragingly, she grinned. She kept it up and it wasn't long before I was pretty hard.

"Will you put me in your mouth?"

"Yeah, but you promise not to cum?"

"I won't right now, there's plenty of time for that. But it's where I want to cum. You decide, but please, use your mouth on me."

She started slowly, licking the shaft below the head, but soon she was licking and kissing the head.

"In your mouth now, please Jen," I groaned.

"Okay, but no cumming without warning, right?"

She tentatively lowered her lips onto the head. "That's nice, Jen, oh so nice. 

Can you move up and down, please?"

She started with a shallow bob, then a second, but pulled off with a quizzical look. "This is going to be tough on my neck and jaw. I'm gonna lie down beside you, okay?"

"Sure. Would you mind doing it so I can play with your pussy?"

"If I know you, you're gonna try to distract me," she said, cannily. "No, I'm gonna lay across your belly. Keep your hands to yourself."

She went at it slowly, which I appreciated. At first, she held my cock steady and bobbed. After a dozen of these, she shifted to using her left hand. I groaned in encouragement.

"Oh god yes, that's the way, so good."

The first time I humped against her, she had me in her mouth. She immediately popped off.

"Y'all gonna cum?"

"No, no, not yet, but you're moving me along pretty good. I'll try to warn you.

"By the way, what do I have to look forward to, hand job or blowjob?"

"Your choice."

"As if you didn't know. Look, the complete lover does great blowjobs, please do that." I groaned as her wet fingers picked up the pace.

"If you're going to take it in your mouth, put the head pretty far back, not so far that you'll gag, but deep enough so you can swallow when I cum — oh god Jen, that's soooo good — when I start, swallow right away. It's warm, has the consistency of chowder. All together, there's about a tablespoon and it comes in three or four bursts, a second or two apart. 

"Oh god, that feels great," I groaned as she upped her tempo.

"Oh, and one more thing. Don't use your teeth. Boys have a terrible fear you'll bit it off."

"Stupid boys. Okay, get ready as the All-DeKalb County Masturbation Queen takes her game to the next level," and she dropped down on me.

"Oh, another thing," I said, tapping her shoulder. She looked up, annoyed. "When I cum, keep your lips tight on me, don't break the seal."

"Why?"

"You want — oh god, that's soooo gooood! — you wanna keep it all in your mouth." 

"Pffffh," she snorted, and went back to bobbing.

"Oh, and one final thing," I said, tapping her shoulder again. She popped off, seriously annoyed this time. "Breathe through your nose. You don't have to take it all the way down your throat, that's for when you turn pro. Just as much as is comfortable. Use your hand to the end, but your mouth, lips, and hand should focus at the top."

"Okay, okay, lemme alone. If I don't get it right the first time, we'll do it again, okay?" and she returned to her work.

A couple of times she slowed down and took me pretty deep, then pulled off and sucked or stroked me. 

You like virgins because you can be the boss. Kinda childish. But she's fun to tease. Her first blow job ought to be a success, not like Martha's.

It was getting pretty intense, and I thought about trying to hold out, but decided to just take the pleasure she was giving me. I was really enjoying Jen's maiden voyage.

"Jen, I'm gonna cum, not right now, but soon," I warned. She increased her speed.

"Now Jen, now, oh god, I'M CUUUUUUUMMMMMMING!" I croaked, arching my hips. She rode up with me, and I had no idea what else she was doing, but her mouth was glued to my cock and I pumped a second, third, fourth, even a feeble fifth shot into her. I collapsed, sweating, heaving, exhausted.

And she kept bobbing!

She had to know I was done, but her mouth kept moving. "Oh god Jen, please, pleeeeease stop, it hurts, please, please, oh god please, please, PLEEEEEASE." Finally I grabbed her head and held it steady, and she stopped.

"Gotcha!" Her grin would have lit up the city. She jumped into my arms and I rained kisses on her face. Then I kissed her on the mouth, my tongue searching every crevice. 

Jen snuggled in and awaited my return to sensibility. As I did, we cuddled.

"It went down this time," she mused quietly. 

"Yeah, I came, you may have noticed," I snarked.

"That was fun!" she beamed. "I made you cum! I did what you said, concentrated on the head. Did you know it gets bigger as you get close?"

"It does? I know my balls tighten up as they get ready to push the cum out, but I didn't know about the head."

"Yeah, seems like it swells. I knew I had to keep it in my mouth. I was afraid I'd forget to swallow, but it worked out fine. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" and she plastered my face with kisses.

We cuddled for a few minutes. "Ever since my breakdown about Jake not going back to school, my roommate's being working on me to start dating. She has this boyfriend at Dartmouth. She's pretty discreet about what they do, but she did tell me about giving him a blowjob, and I've been interested ever since. Now I know."

"And?"

She sat up, and the mental checklist came out.

"Sexual excitement for me, essentially zero. Ego blast, sky high, I got you to cum on my terms. Taste, like you said, chowder, I like fish chowder. Technique?" 

"Technique, off the charts, and you're a raw rookie. Fast learner, too. Great attitude. Need to perfect skills in varying the pace, learn to downshift after I come. Enthusiasm, off the charts. And no hesitation about kissing after the fact."

"That's a problem?"

"Oh yeah. I have no idea what the percentage of girls is who give blowjobs. You look at the porn sites, everybody does it. I get the idea, though, from some of the chat sites, that guys think cumming is all they have to do. Once that's done, they're done. 

"Remember, I'm into giving pleasure first, then getting it. But if you give me pleasure, you deserve some gratitude. 'That was great, baby,' then roll over and fall asleep, that's wrong. I think kissing you, showing that I appreciate what you've done for me, is more appropriate."

"Janie says her boyfriend thinks kissing after a blowjob is gay." Jen said softly.

"Janie? Your roommate?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I may be being disloyal to the tribe here, but that kind of behavior drives girls away, after they've done something wonderful."

"Yeah, she was hurt when he said that," she said, softly again.

We lay together in silence.

"Okay now," I chirped, suddenly sitting up, full of energy. "Let's take stock." I looked at the clock, "Time, 4:30. Elapsed time, say 4 hours since Deflowering. Carl cums, 2; Jen cums, at least 5 that I know of." She giggled and snuggled against me. 

"Calories consumed, geez, I don't know, but some people say semen is worth a breakfast. I say womanjuice leaves me hungry for more. Therefore, food deficit, each party needs replenishment. Did you eat lunch?"

"No, I was too keyed up, afraid you'd . . ." 

"What?"

"Afraid y'all'd, you'd, y'know, chicken, no, that's not it, not run, just somehow not want to get involved with me. There, I've said it." She looked forlorn.

I swept her into my arms. "I didn't handle that well, did I? I'm sorry, I'm this basket of emotion about you. I can't go as far as I want to, I — "

"Shhhh," she said, putting her finger on my lips. "I think we know about this. Let's leave it alone now," and we kissed, sweetly.

I resumed. "Anyway, we need to eat. And menu plan. You may have noticed that my cupboard is pretty bare."

"Yeah, that's why I brought my coffeemaker. I need a big cup just to get normal in the morning."

"Okay, so here's what I suggest. There's this great restaurant I know, half an hour up the river from here, for dinner. They have a dress code, so I'm glad you brought your skirt. On our way back we'll stop at the 'open till midnight' food store near the interstate. Breakfast in house. Lunch we can graze at the Olympics. Dinner at either the union or a pizza, depending on how wasted we are. Breakfast Monday at the union."

"Would you mind if we don't go out tomorrow, especially to the Olympics?"

"No, not really, but why?"

"I, uh, I had to explain where I was going to my roommate, so I, uh, invented something. She's probably told everyone by now."

"Was it bad? I mean, the lie?"

"No, it's just, well, I keep my real thoughts pretty private. I've told everyone that I have a boyfriend back home, 'cause I don't like being hit on by the guys. With the girls, I've dropped hints that I'm bi-sexual. I told my roommate I'd met someone and I was going away for the weekend."

"That's interesting."

"Yeah, but it solved a couple of problems. Anyway, that's what I did. So I don't want to be seen with you." my face must have betrayed my hurt. She rushed on. 

"No, it's not that I don't want to be seen with you, I mean I don't want anyone to see me with a guy. So can we, uh, stay, uh, indoors tomorrow?"

As we inventoried the kitchen, I sheepishly admitted to being a fool at cooking. I told her about Pete meeting his girlfriend and taking a cooking class, learning how to make omelets. Jen declared that the utensils were enough so she could keep us from starving, but we needed ingredients.

The restaurant had a table for two available at eight, so I took it.

Those decisions made, it dawned on me that I was now standing, buck naked, in my apartment, with this delicious girl, nude, and we had time on our hands.

"Care to dance?" I asked, extending my hand. Mom had made me let her give me lessons in tenth grade. I got the box step down pretty good, so when Jen took my hand, I moved into it. She pressed herself into me and I wrapped my arm around her. We swayed to music only we could hear.

"Would you like to go back to my place and make love?"

"Yes, yes I would," she said, looking up with excitement.

We strolled to my room and she flipped the lock closed. We grinned as the big stubby's ongoing burn as we slid onto bed.

Embracing, we kissed slowly and deliciously. Soon my hands were roaming down the soft skin of her haunch, reaching for her ass, while hers trolled up and down my arms and chest. I shifted to play with her left breast, nibbling at the quickly-hardening nipple. She ran her fingers through my chest hair and began to pant slightly as I switched breasts and suckled.

"Is that nice, Jen?"

"Oh god yes, it's very nice, keep doing it."

I licked my middle finger and slowly entered her. She gasped and humped lightly as the heel of my hand hit her pelvic bone. 

"Hurt?"

"No, maybe a little tender, but really just surprised." I worked my finger in and out, then swirled around her opening and found the clit. I circled it, touching it lightly.

"Oh godddddddd, that's gooooood," she moaned.

I parted her legs and settled between them. After moistening my cockhead, I fumbled through her bush for her lips. I spread the hair, slotted myself, and pushed twice. I was halfway in.

"You are so warm, Jen, so warm."

"Oh god, keep going, I love this," she moaned.

"Not sore?"

"Nope, not at all, please don't stop."

It was sweet, so simple, missionary, Jen met my slow, soft thrusts. We rode along, soft smacking of our bellies the only sound in the room.

I pushed a bit deeper and she pushed back. I shifted to increase the impact of my pubic bone against her clit and Jen upped her stroke.

"Getting close?"

"Not yet, but soon, god I love this, keep doing it."

I was feeling it too, and I picked up the tempo. Soon we were crashing against each other. I felt my balls tightening and her fingernails were digging into my back. Suddenly she stiffened and slammed into me.

"Oh god oh god oh my goddddd! Oh Carl, fuck me!" She humped up against me, hard, again and again, as I pistoned into her clenching pussy.

That did it! Suddenly I was shooting, the explosion behind my eyes obscuring everything.

I collapsed on her, probably almost smothering her, so I rolled us to the side. Her face was in my heaving chest and I lavished kisses into her hair as we both struggled for air. Our sweat mingled and her heaving breasts tickled my belly.

As my cock softened and slid out, she shifted up beside me and planted a volcanic kiss on my lips. 

"That was the best! Damn Carl, y'all just made this girl very happy!" and she rained more hot kisses all over my face, even circling the bandage with them.

We snoozed for what turned out to be a half hour. I woke and gently snuck past her to the bathroom for the washcloth. I kissed her awake.

"Shower time, lover, can't walk into the restaurant reeking of as much sex as we've been having," I said as I swabbed the bed and under her ass. She giggled.

When we got to the bathroom, Jen suddenly turned shy. "I have to pee."

"So pee."

"And maybe, y'know, uh . . ."

"Okay, you've come to the right place."

"But it's, y'know, private."

"Jen, we've just spent six hours all over each other's body, poking into every nook and cranny. I'm not a pervert, so I'm not going to push you on this. I'll get in the shower and get the water temperature just right. You do what you need to do, then join me, okay?"

She smiled gratefully and I pulled the curtain closed.

When she stepped into the tub, Jen was wearing the shower cap and had this knowing smile on. 

"Y'all must have some parade of women coming through your bed," she grinned.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. There are blonde, brown, and black hairs in this cap." I blushed, realizing I'd never thought to wash it.

I did her back thoroughly, from her hairline to her toes, then turned her around. Starting with her shoulders, I worked down to her pussy.

"It's beautiful, Jen, just beautiful."

"Comparison shopping?"

"NO! Damn it Jen, stop with that insecurity stuff. You're unique. I love the crinkly pussy skin, the soft lips, the hair — everything! You're so yummy I want to eat you!" She squealed when I shoved my face into her pussy.

"But I won't," I said, standing up and moving in on her breasts.

"These are wonderful," I said as I cupped them, letting the washcloth fall into the soapy water at our feet.

"They're too small," she said.

"Jennnnnnnnn," I warned.

"They are! They're B's. First thing I did when I got to New Haven was find a Victoria's Secret and got a push-up bra."

"Why?"

"Jake's a tit man. I see him checking out girls with big chests all the time. I wanted to improve my chances. No one ever checked me out with these."

I scooped the washcloth up and wrote circles on her chest. "Did I turn away in horror from your breasts when I first saw them?"

"No, of course not, you were so horny you'd've jumped a broom."

"True, and the size of your breasts didn't deter me, did they? The breasts you've got are they breasts you've got. You're not going to lose Jake because of their size.

"In fact," I said, an idea suddenly occurring, "there are some neat things you can do with them."

"Like what?"

"Tomorrow, lover, tomorrow. C'mon, let's finish up and get dressed."

It wasn't even 7 by the time we were ready, so I took the scenic route, drove around the campus and through town, then leisurely up the river. We reached the restaurant exactly on time.

We were tucking into our food (me veal scaloppini, she chicken parm) when I felt a bare foot lift the bottom of my pants leg. Up and up it crept, until it was almost at my knee. I glanced across the table at her but she was all innocence. Then the foot dropped away. 

A couple of minutes later her toes were in my crotch, massaging my cock. It felt good but a little naughty. Soon she had me pretty hard. When she somehow gripped my cockhead, I jumped and knocked over my wine glass. The waitress was on us in a flash, directing the spill to the side, which saved Jen's blouse. She cleaned up the table, poured us each a new glass, and backed away with a smile.

The toes came back.

She was massaging my cock again, and doing a good job of it, when I caught her eye and leaned across the table.

"Hussies who do this sort of thing can get in a lot of trouble."

She leaned into my face. "I don't know what y'all're talking about."

It was a great meal. For dessert we fed each other strawberries and whipped cream. I tipped the waitress lavishly.

As we were leaving I noticed that the tablecloth barely overhung the edge of the table. I blushed as I realized why the two couples on that side of the table had smiled wickedly as we passed by.

We walked hand-in-hand up the river, enjoying the humid darkness, until the path ran out.

"Time to head back. Gotta catch the supermarket before it closes," I whispered. Jen leaned into me as we turned toward the car, which was at the far end of the lot. We'd probably gotten the last reservation and the lot had been almost full.

When we reached the car, I scanned the lot and, seeing no one, pulled Jen to me and kissed her hard. She kissed me back, then yelped as I lifted her onto the fender and pushed her skirt up.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 17



"Wha —?!"

I pulled her panties down and dived in, searching furiously through her tangled bush with my tongue. When I found her slit, I licked her for all I was worth. It was just raw lust, sucking and tonguing. As it was, her clit came out quickly and her juices were flowing. She pulled my head into her and pushed back at me, grunting and grinding. 

When she stiffened, she gave my face a huge hump, then fell back on her elbows, panting like a long-distance runner. As she came, I pulled the panties over her sandals and shoved them up the sleeve of my jacket.

"Gotcha!" I said when she recovered.

She shook herself and laughed. "That was fast," she said, "and man was it good. I've gotta play around with you more."

"More? You want more? Here's more," and I ostentatiously started to unzip my pants.

"No, no, not here!" she squeaked. She slid off the fender and smoothed her skirt. A puzzled look crossed her face. 

"Hey! Where are my panties?"

"Gee, I dunno. I know you had 'em, but —"

"Well we have to find them. I am not going around without panties." But as much as she searched they didn't turn up.

"Jen, we've got to get to the food store. You'll just have to be cool about shopping with no panties on."

She cocked her head at me. "Y'all know more'n you're tellin'," she accused, but I just smiled. She patted me down like a cop, feeling for them, but she didn't check my armpit.

We pushed the cart through the store, buying what we needed for an at-home Sunday. I bought a long-handled mirror. She agreed with my suggestion that we buy a three-pack of cheap scrunchies for her hair. 

Three times I dropped behind her and tipped her skirt up, exposing her pretty ass, and grabbed it. Each time she glared at me and pushed the skirt back down. At the far back of the store I lifted it completely above her waist and pinched her lightly. She took a swing at me but missed.

The clerk at the register grinned wickedly as she finished bagging our purchases. "You guys have fun?"

We both looked blankly at her. She pointed to the surveillance camera above the checkout. "They're all over, I was watching you," she laughed, flicking her hand at the video screen.

"Did you record us?" I asked, hoping the answer was no.

"Sure. Check YouTube tomorrow afternoon. I'll edit it tonight and post it in the morning. I think I'll call it 'Fun at the Supermarket' or 'Supermarket Follies,' but don't hold me to it."

Jen's face lost all color. I was on the one hand angry that the clerk would do such a thing, but on the other hand I was pleased that I'd gotten a rise out of Jen.

"Can I buy a copy of the tape?" I asked.

"Carl!" Jen hissed.

"No, I'm serious," I said. "This could be our big break. We could be more famous than the cat that plays the piano." To the clerk I said, "I'll pay you $20."

Jen grabbed my belt and pulled me out of the store. "I'm mortified," she huffed. "Suppose someone recognizes us? And if the camera angle was from the rear, I'll —"

We loaded the bags into the back seat and began our drive back to my apartment.

"Like I said, you'll be famous. And all because you misplaced these," and I pulled her panties from my jacket and waved them at her.

"You had them all the time! I knew it!"

"Hussies who toe-fuck their dates in classy restaurants have to be prepared to pay a price."

"Is that was this is all about? Y'all gettin' me back for that?" 

"Were you excited when you toe-fucked me in the restaurant? Did you know the people at the next tables could see us?"

She blushed. "No, of course not."

I waited. "Well," she finally said, "maybe I did notice the tablecloth didn't cover that side. I thought it'd be fun to make you blush.

"Did you see the old couples watching us? I thought they'd have a canary when you knocked over your wine. I did a pretty good job, eh? I really got you hard, didn't I?"

"Yes. Did you get excited when I tipped your skirt?"

"I'm a proper Southern girl," she parried. 

I waited. "But," she sighed, "yes, it was exciting. But if the tape really does show what we did, and my parents see it, I'm doomed."

"And the chances of that are?"

"Facial recognition software. Somebody could —"

"C'mon, Jen, what are the chances of that? Zero and less. Even if she carries through on posting the video." By now we were pulling into the parking space behind my apartment.

"Can I have my panties now?"

"You're staying the night, right?"

"Right."

"Then you don't need 'em," I said, and jammed them into my armpit. She shrugged in defeat.

As we dispersed the food in the kitchen, Jen wondered about the mirror.

"Part of my host responsibilities," I evaded. "I'll show you tomorrow."

It was nearly midnight when we finished. It had been a long day and we were both tired. 

"Where's that t-shirt?"

"Huh?"

"The one from last night. I'm kinda attached to it. It's my lucky shirt."

"How so?"

"'Cause when I wear it, I get lucky."

I've always slept in the nude, but even with Jen in the t-shirt, there wasn't very much between us. Regardless, I wasn't interested in fooling around.

"How do we do this?" she asked.

"You did it last night, remember?"

"Yeah, but we were, y'know, well, . . ."

"Not intimate?"

"Right, not intimate."

"You like to sleep on your side, or your back?"

"I start out on my back, it's easier to play with myself that way. When I'm done, I usually curl up on my side. Why?"

I blushed at her candor. "Well, since we've taken care of that, we can spoon. I'll curl up behind you. You tuck your ass into me, I'll fondle your breasts, and we'll be asleep in no time."

It actually worked out that way.



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 18



When you wake up at 4:30 a.m. with an erection and a softly snoring girl in your bed, your mind naturally turns to sex. The moonlight exposed the rise and fall of her t-shirted chest and, as it only covered a small part of her ass, sex wasn't out of the question.

Kissing her bed-warm ass cheeks was the beginning. As I moved down, into the valley between her legs, the top one shifted a little bit, allowing me more access. Whether it was unconscious or she was waking up I didn't know, but I moved deeper, kissing and stroking her.

"Ummmm," Jen moaned. Kiss. 

"Wassa time?" Another kiss.

"Why, you gotta date?" Kiss once more.

"Unh? Oh, no, I guess not." Kiss, then lick.

"Good. We can stay here." Kiss, trace finger over hip.

"That's nice. You wanna play?" The finger entered her.

"Yes. I want you by moonlight."

She was alert now. "I've never been had by moonlight."

"So we'll achieve two firsts: doggie style, and by the light of the moon." I rose on my knees and pulled her into position. She leaned forward on her elbows.

"Can we take off your shirt?"

"Why?"

" 'Cause I wanna see your breasts sway in the moonlight." 

She reached back, grabbed the shirttail, and in one motion had it off. I opened her legs and crept between them, my stiffness poking her. "Oh you're hard already," she husked.

"And you're pretty turned on yourself," I said, since my arm was wrapped around her waist and my finger was inside her. She wiggled her ass against me and flipped her hair to one side.

"Guide me in, Jen," She slicked her fingers and reached between her legs, found my cock, then fumbled through the hair until she had me at the right place. I pushed forward and, two thrusts later, I was surrounded.

I thrust, then pulled back. She clamped her legs tight. "Don't y'all dare pull out!" she barked. "It feels so big there." I pushed in. "Oh yes, that's better, that's nice, so nice."

I started a slow rhythm, holding her cheeks for balance. As I moved in, Jen pushed buck. I slowed and reached for her clit. "Oh ye-a-a-a-a-h," she coo-ed as I stroked her hard nub. I was getting pretty excited myself

"Jen, I'm gonna cum soon."

"Can you hold off? Slow down, stop, don't cum now, I'm having too much fun here." I held still while she moved forward. When she had just my cockhead inside, she slowly rotated her hips. I began stroking her clit.

"Yeah, that's it, don't pinch me," she whispered. "Do it in circles." I followed her instruction.

"Oh god that's really good. Now, press you finger tight, there, yessssssss, that's s-o-o-o-o-o good, god yessssss." She pushed back a little, then dropped her head to the pillow so that my cock was pressing upward into her.

"Now push in, yea-a-a-a-h, not too far, now back out, oh god yeah, now circle my clit again, softly. No not that soft, harder, yeah, that's good, so g-o-o-o-d." I was getting really excited.

"Jen, I'm gonna cum soon," I whispered.

"I'm close. Please hold off, please. Just play with my cli — oh god yesssssss! Oh god, do it now! I can feel you, cum in me, god Jake it's so damn good, so fuckin' good!" and she slammed back, again and again. I held her tight as I gushed my spurts into her writhing pussy.

Exhausted, we collapsed in a heap. My face ended up beside the back of her head as I tried to maintain consciousness.

*

The sunlight streaming through the window, and the smell of coffee coming through the open bedroom door, woke me up. I needed the toilet and to wash myself.

I emerged to be met by this naked long-haired goddess, whose hair was draped across one breast, mostly obscuring her pussy, though since everything was jet black it was tough to tell.

"Want some coffee?"

"Don't drink the stuff. I'll make tea, or maybe have a Sprite." We adjourned to the couch and she sat in my lap, her coffee and my Sprite-in-a-glass on the table. 

"I didn't hear you get up."

"Y'all were dead to the world. I didn't want to wake you. I figured when I flushed the toilet you'd get up, but you didn't move. I really like being naked in the kitchen in the morning," she said, oh-so-matter-of-factly. "And last night was spectacular."

"You mean last night-last night or last night-this morning?"

"Oh yeah, this morning. God, that was the most wonderful way to be woke up."

Among the things we'd bought at the late-night supermarket before going to bed were the ingredients for a large omelet. She'd never heard of bagels, so when the two I'd taken from the frozen four-pack and left out overnight to thaw were toasted and smeared with cream cheese, she pronounced them delicious.

As we were piling the dishes in the sink, I brought up our yesterday morning so long ago.

"You asked me what I did with a girl who'd stayed overnight, remember?"

"Not really. So much has happened since then, I've forgotten. Tell me."

"I said if it was a weekend, probably what we'd do is take a shower and go back to bed and fuck each other's brains out."

"Oh yeah, now I remember," she said, coquettishly batting her eyes.

"Well, I've changed my mind." She looked stricken.

"We're going to do it NOW and we're gonna do it HERE." She squealed as I pulled her to me. We jammed our faces into each other and she pushed her pussy against my rapidly-hardening cock.

When we broke for air, I spun her around and had her lean against the counter. "Spread 'em, lover," I said, and she opened her thighs. I reached for her moist pussy, then circled her lips and clit as she moaned in encouragement and humped against me.

"Y'all're lookin' for love in all the right places," she husked through her hair. While working her clit and pussy, I slobbed the fingers of my other hand to wet my cockhead, then moved in. The usual fumbling ensued, but I got there.

"Oh yeah, umpff, that's nice, more, push it in, there, you've got it," she instructed as she adjusted to take me completely inside.

The thrusting and playing got her going far faster than I'd expected, so when she stiffened and hissed her orgasm I wasn't even close to cumming. When she slumped forward I had to grab her to avoid a head-first crash to the floor. 

"Oh no you don't, we're not done yet. C'mon." I scooped her up, planted myself on the couch, and sat her in my lap, facing me. Only my stiff cock was between us.

"You're still hard. Don't you ever get enough?"

"Not of you. C'mon, mount up." Her eyes widened when she realized what I had in mind.

"Damn that's good," she said throatily, sliding onto me. 

"Now I have the best of all worlds. I'm in you, I can kiss you anytime I want, and these are right here." I tweaked a nipple. "And I can play with you," and I brushed my thumb across her clit.

"Sounds pretty one-sided. What do I get out of this?" She started to ride me.

"You mean aside from getting fucked on a sunny Sunday morning, after losing your bagel virginity?" I thrust upward. She grinned and lifted her ass up, dropped it down, and wiggled.

"Yeah, what's in it for me?" She swung her hips.

"You've got my cock inside you, isn't that enough?" 

"Stupid boys, think only they can have fun," and she tweaked my left nipple. It didn't really hurt, but the electric shock that went through me must have shown on my face. It certainly brought another thrust of my hips.

"Ooo-o-o-o-o, another erogenous zone."

"From the Greek, eros, meaning —"

She shut me by tweaking the nipple again, hard. "Owwww! That hurt!"

"Then stop bein' an ass," she said. "Y'all're here to fuck me." We thrust against each other a couple of times. As she bounced, she threw her head back, swishing her hair across my face and wrapping it around her head.

"Where'd we put the scrunchies? I can't see if y'all're having a good time." She leapt off, ran into the bedroom, and was still forming her hair into an abbreviated pony tail with them when she re-mounted. 

In self-defense, I began working her clit. Jen leaned forward and bracketed me with her arms against the back of the couch.

"Now y'all're gonna get fucked," which was not so much an announcement of her intentions as a statement of fact. She worked her pussy on my cock with even greater vigor.

The sweat was running off us as we lap danced. I was playing with her breasts, holding them, enjoying the jiggling. We were good together.

I was just about to announce my impending orgasm when she barked out hers. "Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod oh g-o-d-d-d-d-d-d!" She gave a final twist of her hips, rose up, then dropped down, slamming her chest into me, then slumping forward. I shoved my cock deeper and came into her limp body, the explosion of ecstasy taking complete charge, and I took her along as I collapsed against the couch's back.

We were pasted together when I recovered. I kissed her neck softly as we both returned to the world.

"I am a slut for sex."

That unnerved me. "Don't be a drama queen," I croaked. "You are one really hot Yalie, with a sex drive that would get you arrested on an interstate highway, that's for sure. But you've only been fucked what, five, six times? And you haven't even been an ex-virgin for 24 hours. 

"You can't become a slut until you've willingly had twenty or thirty guys, whose names you didn't even bother to ask, at least three of who were at the same time, and the entire show has been posted on YouTube with 10,000 hits in the past week. Then you can claim slutdom."

"Y'all're making that up."

"Maybe a tiny bit. But I don't like hearing you use that word to describe yourself." I was on a roll now. "Yesterday you asked me if you were good in bed. I think I said we'd find out. Well, we're finding out. You're really good at this, you make me very happy, and I think you get a lot out of it as well. That's not slutdom, that's — well, it's a lot about love. And," I hurried, "it's what good sex is. You like it and you want more."

"I love seeing your eyes when you cum." She kissed me.

"Don't change the subject. Can't you accept a compliment graciously?" 

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you. Oh look, you've got a nice little pool of everything, right there in your lap."

"Want some?" I dipped my finger in the pool and offered it to her. She sucked it into her mouth, ran her tongue all over, then pulled off with a pop.

"I'm gonna clean you off," she said, and without asking permission ducked into my lap. She did an excellent job.

"Kiss me, you fool," I said as she finished, and we locked lips. When we broke for air, we cuddled, leaning against the back of the couch, breathing together.

"Shower, Jen."

"Don't wanna. Do I hafta?"

I cupped my hand to protect the couch and hobbled to the bathroom. Jen appeared, sans scrunchies, with four bottles. "Shampoo, rinse, conditioner, de-tangler," she answered my questioning expression, lining them up on the counter.

"Can I help?"

Over the next 10 minutes I got an abbreviated course in female hair maintenance, Jen-style. Her hair, she said proudly, is finer than European hair, and shinier. She has to do more work to achieve the right look than do the other long-haired girls in her dorm. 

"It's an aesthetic," she said seriously. "The European girls can take more shortcuts than I can. The ones with short hair really have it easy. I wouldn't change places with any of them, but having to share a bathroom with five girls who don't appreciate what I have to go through ain't easy."

As we were drying each other, Jen looked at the sodden bandages on my cheek and ear. "Oh yeah, I forgot. I've got the tape and gauze. Would you do something for me?"

"Sure. I can change the bandages."

"Well, that too. But I'd really like to get some good pictures of the stitches." She gently pulled off the tape and winced at what she saw. 

"He cut you real bad, didn't he?"

"The first time I saw it, I thought I looked like Frankenstein's monster."

"Or the laces on an old-time basketball."

She took several photos of my cheek. When we pulled them up on my computer, we found she'd gotten the framing pretty good but neither of us liked the lighting. Her next shots satisfied us both, so she took a bunch of my notched ear, which were fine the first time.

"Sow's ear," she snarked.

"Silk purse."

By the time we were done, her hair had mostly dried and it was time to comb it out. "Combing and brushing take more time than washing. Start at the bottom, go carefully. If you find a snag, work it slow, don't pull it." We must have worked for 20 minutes, with her sitting cross-legged on the bed, her ass snuggled in my crotch.

When she pronounced herself satisfied, I laid her down on the bed and began to nuzzle her. "Carl, can I enjoy my hair for a while? Isn't there something else we can do?"

"Actually, there is," I said.

"What?"

"Well, it's kinda, uh, personal."

"We've been 'kinda personal' for 24 hours. Out with it," she ordered.

"I'd like to trim you."

Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared. "You are not touching my hair. No way." 

"No. Your bush."

She sucked in a sharp breath and blushed, deeply. "Is there something wrong? Am I ugly? Do I smell?"

"Oh no, no — oh god no, not at all. I love your smell and your taste," I leered, and her blush deepened. "It's just that there's so much hair there. I love the hair on your head," and I stroked through it, "but when I eat you, or try to get in you, there's so much in the way. I'd like to thin it out. That's why I bought the mirror last night, so you can see and decide what to do."

I fetched a towel and retrieved the long-handled mirror and my barber scissors from my dresser. "Hang your legs over the end of the bed."

She settled into position and I handed her the mirror. "Your pussy is so beautiful," I said, gently parting the hair. "When I start to eat you, I can't get enough of your smell, but I have trouble finding your lips and clit." I moved my fingers into the undergrowth and showed her how dense it was. 

"What I'd like to do is trim everything back, so that your bush's not so massive. Okay?"

As usual, Jen surprised me. "I've been thinking about doin' this, but I've never felt comfortable asking any of the girls to help me. And since no one's been, uh, hanging around down there, I didn't know what needed to be done. In fact, since it's so much into my groin, I've been embarrassed to put on a bathing suit. Can we do that too?"

"I'd love to. Can I take some pictures?"

"For publication?" I couldn't tell if she was serious or not.

"Small circulation art magazines, anonymous web sites," I countered. She actually looked scared. "No, no, before-and-after. We won't show your face. And they're only for us. I'll put them on a thumb drive and you can keep them."

"Just crotch shots, promise?" She was grinning now.

"Promise."

It took some time to get the lighting right, but the results told the story. We did standups (below the shoulders), closeups, left side, right side, even from behind with her bending forward.

"Okay, now let's barber."

She took it very seriously. I wanted to be able to dive in without having to guess where I was, but Jen had an aesthetic opinion about how she wanted to look. When we took a break after what she called "clear cutting,"I shot another round of photos.

We trimmed and thinned some more. She pronounced herself satisfied but was undecided about whether to have a firm line across the top of her mons or to just leave it alone.

"What difference does it make? I don't obsess about mine."

"Yeah, but you're just a boy. I think I'm gonna leave it alone, less maintenance."

She wanted to shave into the V of both legs. "It'll be maintenance, but I'm gonna like it, I think." I felt like a real barber, using the hot towel and lathering her, then working carefully with my razor. After applying some baby oil, we took a final round of photos. 

"I look really good, don't I?" 

"Good enough to eat," I said, smacking my lips.

"Quick shower, lover boy, y'all don't want hair in your teeth." We swept everything onto the towel and flushed them. In the shower I lavished her pussy with soapsuds and she did an excellent job on my cock — in fact, on every part of me. Fortunately, the hot water didn't run out.

We dried off leisurely, no longer in immediate heat for each other, but hardly indifferent. She examined her new configuration.

"This really looks good. Wanna take it for a test drive?"

I sprang to full attention.

Her "new" pussy was a delight. The purpose was to improve access and looks, but while w=she was hardly bare, the neatly trimmed, curly fur around her dark red lips enhanced the view of the crinkly skin. 

As I settled between her legs and swiped my tongue up the full length of her slit, she lifted up onto her elbows.

"Lick me here," she pointed to an area near where we'd shaved. I complied, and she sighed.

"Kiss it, harder, please, use suction."

I kissed again. "Yeah. Now the other side."

As I alternated between the two spots, her breathing gradually got shallower and she eased herself back onto the bed.

"Now my clit, just a kiss.

"Now back.

"Oh that's good, Now my clit, again.

"Go down, all the way to the bottom, with your finger, just slightly inside me." I moved in.

"Oh god yes, that's good, so good. Just do that for a while." 

Once I had a rhythm that she seemed to like, I snuck a look. Her lids had drooped and she was working her left nipple while her right arm lay across her belly. Twice she licked her lips.

"Now, just a little, pinch the lip. 

"Unngh, no, that's too hard, do it again, softer. Yeah, that's better. Now the other one. Oh yeah, that's good.

"Now back inside, just a little.

"Now the clit, harder, please."

I pushed it hard to one side, which brought her hips up slightly. 

"Play with it, run around it, now go back in, yes, oh yeah, that's so nice, back and forth, so g-o-o-o-o-o-d."

Her legs began to tense.

"Now Carl, go down on me, use your tongue, do me with your tongue, make me cum."

Her aroma filled my lungs as I worked her lips. I cupped her ass cheeks and ran my fingers across that soft flesh, close to her rosebud.

"Oh yes, keep doing me, use your fingers, your mouth, inside me now, oh god that's s-o-o-o-o-o good." I felt her jerking what had to be her left nipple. Then she stiffened.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum — oh g — yessssssss!" It was a hiss more than a cry as she shoved her pussy hard against my face.

I was working the lips with my tongue when it hit. As the orgasm rolled over her, I moved slowly to her clit, then back. When she settled onto the mattress I slowed, then stopped. I felt her hand on my head, stroking softly. I kissed her clit and she jumped.

"No, I'm done, please, no more, please."

I settled against her shoulder and kissed her neck. She moaned softly and cradled me, stroking my face. We lay there peacefully, and she dozed.

Did you just get a lesson from the Female Masturbation Champ of Jefferson County, Arkansas, in how to eat pussy? Or, at least, in how to eat her pussy? Yes you did.

As she woke she stretched like a cat. "Y'all're good, Carl," she said. "I couldn't have done better myself."

"I wish I'd known what to expect, I'd have taken notes."

"I'm gonna become a better masturbator now that I have clear access to my pussy." I blushed at her candor.

"Sure you will. But you also know about the alternative. A-a-a-a-n-d, speaking of alternatives, how about a naked lunch?" Not a bad idea, since it was closer to three o'clock than two.

Roast beef on whole wheat doesn't sound erotic, but it gave me an opportunity to paint Jen's nipples with mayonnaise. Unfamiliar with the medium, I made a mess of it and she demanded that I clean it up. Which I did, with my tongue, lapping everything squeaky clean. We got pretty excited and scampered to the bedroom.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 18



She opened her legs as I bent over to kiss her. She reached for my cock and stroked it.

"Nope. New thrill coming up."

"Okay Your Inventiveness. How're we gonna do it this time?"

"You are going to fuck me with your breasts." I flopped onto my back.

She sat up and glared. "Listen Carl, I tried once to tell y'all about sex, and you shot me down, rightly I guess. But I'm here to tell y'all that I have my doubts about this."

"Jen, you think your B's are too small, right?"

"Right. And you didn't disagree, just said that they were what I had."

"Oh, nothing's changed, the equipment you have is the equipment you use. But that's the point: you're going to use your equipment. 

"Push them together." She did, and they met nicely in the center of her chest. I reached up and drew my finger from the top of the fleshy collision past the twin peaks of her nipples to the bottom. When I got there I slid my middle finger upwards into the channel between them.

"This'll do nicely," I opined. As she got it, a wicked smile crept across her face. I was getting hard.

"You're gonna have to keep it lubricated," I pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I know how to do that,"and she dropped down onto my cock. She popped off when she had it slick and shiny.

"Damn," she muttered, and hopped off the bed. I thought something was wrong, but it was only to retrieve the scrunchies from the dresser. She got her hair under control and was quickly back.

"Okay, let's do this again." She lubed me up nicely — the cock that had begun to deflate was soon rock hard. 

"Okay, now wrap your breasts around it. See, they do the job fine." The stern look returned.

"Now move them up and down." 

"Like this?" She lifted her chest up and over the cockhead, and I groaned encouragement. When she went down to the base, I groaned again. 

"Am I doin' it right?" she asked innocently, but her lecherous grin betrayed her.

"You're doin' great, please don't stop."

She didn't have to move very fast to have an effect on me. I watched her nipples glide by, knowing what was coming. When she felt the channel getting dry, she would pull off and take me in her mouth. Her concentration was intense and I was loving being its focus.

I'm gonna cum, soon, Jen."

"That's what I want. Y'all're so gonna cum." She sucked the cockhead extra-hard and flicked her tongue under it. "Cum good for me, Carl." She squeezed her breasts together extra-firmly and hit me with two rapid strokes.

So I did.

The first spurt shot straight up, past her nose, just as she was pulling back from her upstroke. She squeaked when the second spurt caught her on the chin as she was leaning forward on the downstroke. The next two splashed her face and the feeble fifth barely oozed out.

I was blasted. Jen dropped onto my chest and swept her cum-laden breasts into my fur. We kissed and I sucked her tongue.

"Gotcha."

"We've been saying that a lot in the last 24 hours."

"Yes we have, haven't we? I don't think I've ever seen an ejaculation from that angle. I mean, porn isn't done from the woman's point of view, so I was curious what it would look like as your cum came out. Thanks for warning me."

The cum was dripping from her face and she was reaching for the sheet to wipe it off when I stopped her.

"I hear it's good for your complexion. Can I smooth it in?"

She giggled. "Never hurts a girl to enhance her complexion. I'll work on yours," and she scooped up a couple of stray globs and rubbed them into my forehead and unbandaged cheek.

"That was nice. What you've just done is mammery intercourse."

"That's a ten-dollar word for something else. What?"

"Well, okay, tit fucking," I shrugged, and she giggled.

"I never thought of sex as being like this," she mused, laying back against the headboard. "I mean, fucking, I've watched it, talked about it with Janie, I knew it was going to be fun, exciting, 'way better than masturbating. And it is." She kissed me.

"But playing with you like this, I never knew. You really do me good with your mouth and your hands, but I can do so much to you with, y'know, my mouth and my hands. And now I know about these," she perked, lifting her breasts, which were getting crinkly with drying cum.

"They're lovely," I said, and kissed each nipple.

"C'mon now, let's shower, we're getting sticky," and I started to get up.

"I don't mind, it's fine. Can we talk?" 

"Sure," I said, and settled against the headboard. Jen sat facing me, removed the scrunchies and put them on the bedside table. She shook her hair out into its full length and folded her legs under her. I oogled her handsome pussy and she smiled.

"Carl, I said this wasn't about Jake, it was about me, and you. And it's true. You've taught me so much, and I'll never forget this weekend." She kissed me, and I kissed her back.

"But I still want Jake." I got concerned that she was going to blubber, but it didn't happen.

"And I think I've lost my chance with him.

"Now before you get defensive," she sped on, seeing me opening my mouth, "I wouldn't change a thing, even if I knew from the beginning how I'd feel now. 

"Janie said 'sex changes everything.' What I thought she meant was that, when I got Jake, I wouldn't be so unhappy, things would be wonderful.

"But our sex has changed things for me. I realize now that I can't go on waiting for him. I'm not gonna see him for almost a year. I can't wait that long, I've got to move on."

"Why?" I finally got a word in.

"Waddya mean 'why'? I just told you. I've had sex and I know I'll want more in the next year. Jake won't be around. So I have to move on."

"You don't have to."

"Waddya mean?" I had her attention.

"Because there are alternatives. You can have as much sex as you want and still go after Jake."

"No I can't. Jake and me, we tell each other everything. I can't lie to him."

"Who said anything about lying?"

"Look. Jake knows I'm a virgin, and I know he is too."

"So you're gonna call him as soon as you leave here and tell him that you happened to meet this guy on a Friday and then spent the next two days in bed with him?"

"No, of course not."

"Did you tell him about the Jefferson County masturbation championship?"

"NO! That's private."

"Have you met anybody at Yale who makes you think 'what a hunk, I'd like to do him'?"

She blushed. "Well, there is this one guy. He's cute, funny, actually he is sortuv a hunk. We've talked, went for coffee a coupla times. But I didn't do anything." 

"So you had a few sex secrets before you even met me. Do you think he has any?"

"He tells me everything."

"You said he checks out girls with big chests. Ever discussed this? And what about how much he masturbates and what fantasies he has when he does it?"

"NO! No, of course not."

"So why do you have a problem with keeping this weekend to yourself?"

"Because, when we do it, he'll know I'm not a virgin, and I'll have to explain."

"Explain what? That you don't have a hymen? Lots of girls don't have hymens, but they're still virgins. Toys. Masturbation. Tampons. Horseback riding. Gymnastics. Falling out of trees."

"I'll know. I'll know I'm deceiving him. That's no way to start off a marriage."

"Is Janie pretty committed to her boyfriend?"

"Oh yeah. They've been together since junior year. They've talked about getting married after they graduate."

"And they share absolutely everything, nothing unsaid, ever? C'mon."

"All right, I see your point. But this is big, real important, central to our relationship."

"What relationship?"

"Jake's and mine. Dammit, y'all're trying to get me to go somewhere. Just spit it out, Carl."

"Okay, here goes. I don't think you and Jake have a relationship, not a real one anyway. You're just friends. There's lots of cheerleading but you're the only one who can move things along.

"You have to take charge. You now have this huge advantage — you know what sex is, how it works, how to make a guy do what you want. Since you're a girl, this comes naturally anyway." She shot me a look, but she knew I was right.

" 'All's fair in love and war.' That's the old adage. If you're gonna snag Jake, you have to take charge of the situation."

"And how do I do that? He's in Arkansas, I'm not gonna be there for another year."

"Then you're probably screwed. Pardon the pun."

"Meaning what? I can't use up the free trips home, they're too valuable."

"Listen to what you just said, and tell me about your priorities." I sat back and waited.

"I am screwed, aren't I?" 

"No you're not. You just haven't made your relationship with Jake your highest priority. Not that your priorities are necessarily wrong. You're spreading your wings, you're free of Arkansas. The world is recognizing you for the really great person you are.

"But you have to decide, really decide, and act on that decision.

"You said Jake has you on a pedestal. What does he see? Not just another pretty face, he's too smart for that."

"We competed for grades, I beat him out for valedictorian by like one-one hundredth of a point, some extra credit paper somewhere. He was genuinely glad for me. I mean, it didn't matter a hilla dung who came in first or second, but he was glad it was me.

"To get my mind off Mrs. B and Jake, I cooked up the idea of this bibliography of scholarly articles and books on the Vietnamese diaspora. Worked it into whatever free time I had between classes after Thanksgiving, finished it in January. It wasn't hard, I just ran through the library and the internet. Sorted 'em out, wrote a coupla-sentence commentary on each one. 

"The Consortium published it on their academic website and made a big deal about it. It's gonna come out in the Fall in their journal. The professor we're studying with here wrote the introduction for it and the Consortium gave me its annual award for academic achievement. It's why I was invited into this program, since they've never taken a freshman before.

"Jake says this means I'm a full-fledged scholar. It's crazy, but I think he believes it. I'm not. I'm just me. It didn't take much time,"

"Y'know, Jake's not wrong."

"It was just therapy. I'll never do it again."

"Yes you will. Because you can. You're good at it. You can be a scholar if you want to be."

She was thinking.

"It's so complicated. Jake's all I think about, missing him. Classes are just filler. Janie tries to divert me. Sometimes it works, sometimes not." 

"Let me ask you this. How much of a price are you prepared to pay to get Jake?"

"Waddya mean 'price'?"

"Old Vince Lombardi quote, about sacrificing everything to win at football. 'You've got to pay the price' means you have to sacrifice everything to achieve your goal. Maybe not your integrity, but small stuff, like time, money, in football even your health, stuff like that. Maybe one of the things you have to sacrifice is the free trip home."

"So I can jump his bones? That's not what it's all about, y'know."

"Oh, I know. Maybe one of the things you may have to do is go back to Arkansas."

"NO! I can't do that! The place is a dump! They don't like people like me! I have to get away! I just have to figure out how to take him with me."

"The name Hillary Rodham mean anything to you?"

"Don't be an ass. Of course I do, everybody knows . . . Yeah, okay, she came to Arkansas, willingly."

"For love. Ambition too. I guess it's fair to say that the two of them had a lot of ambition. But Bill Clinton knew where he had to be, and she decided to give it her all. You could do a lot worse than follow her example. If Jake's what you want."

"You are not making me happy. I had more fun with your cock in me." She reached over and grabbed my crinkly flaccidness, which started to lose its flaccidity.

"Later Jen, later. This is important.

"You've been too subtle with Jake. Maybe you should seduce him."

"Boys are the ones who . . . When I've turned the conversation to relationships, it somehow always drifts to other people's, not ours. I'm scared that he'll run away if I bring 'us' up."

"Being alone, with some place where can really be alone, is crucial. When I was with your group at dinner, you became important to me. When you turned down Mai's suggestion to go to the concert, I was so sure you wanted to be with me, I practically danced. Does that make any sense?"

"I didn't know that. I had this effect on you."

"You did. Pure animal lust, of course."

"Bullshit! I remember what happened better'n you do, apparently."

"But you had something that made me feel secure, so I wasn't afraid when I dumped everything on you.

"So let's assume that you drop in on Jake. What can you do to be alone, together, for a weekend maybe?"

"Not much. My mom doesn't work, she's always around, though sometimes she'll go up to Nashville to visit her sister. Dad works at the plant, but he travels sometimes, technical stuff at other plants. So, yeah, if the stars lined up, I could have the house to myself.

"But Mrs. B's home now, ever since the heart attack. She can't work at the plant like her husband does. She'd know where Jake was and we'd know that she knows. Besides, Jake works crazy long hours, six days a week. Carl, this is so not gonna happen."

"Well, not unless you work on it. If his mom's such a big a fan of the two of you getting together, maybe she could orchestrate something that would leave you two alone."

"Oh that's it." She made a fist, then extended her thumb and pinky to make the telephone sign. " 'Hi Mrs. B., it's Jen. Look, I'm flying in next week. Can you work it out so my mom and dad go away for the weekend and you and Mr. B make yourselves scarce? I need to have Jake's undivided attention so I can seduce him.' Sure, that'll work."

"Somebody's gotta make something happen, and you're the most likely candidate. Is there any other way? How about your mom?"

"MY mom? She's so proper, so reserved. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they never had sex. You want me to talk to HER about ME getting laid? Ha."

"Well, I'm fresh out of ideas. You got any?"

"One thing I've fantasized about is Jake and I'd go to the cabin his parents have, up in the mountains. We'd have the place all to ourselves."

"Perfect! Great idea. Maybe you should figure out how to do that. It wouldn't be as tough to orchestrate as what I was thinking about. You volunteer the two of you to do some work on the place, maybe."

"But Jake needs the hours, he can't afford to take time off. It'll never work." She sniffled.

"Okay. Look, unless somebody gets something going, I don't know how you're going to get him alone long enough to work your magic. Unless you want to fuck him in the back seat of his car."

"Ugh! I'd sooner die."

We sat in silence.

"How about this," I said.

"What?"

"Get him to do some of the work. How about you introduce a little challenge into the discussion, you know, motivate him."

"A competitor? Anybody I know?" She leered at me.

"Not me. That would be too far out. Maybe somebody at Yale, somebody you actually date, or maybe somebody you just make up. You could tell him this guy turns you on, you're having a hard time resisting his charms, he's such a good kisser, something like that."

"H-m-m-m-m. I've never thought about that. I've always thought he should make the first move. But he never has, not even with Crystal."

"The dog?"

"Yeah. He certainly had a chance to nail her, she put out for half the school, or at least that was the rumor. Probably wasn't true, but she did have a reputation. But Jake was, I dunno, too scared, or she didn't see him that way."

"Well, suppose you imply you're getting closer to being intimate with someone, do you think he'd feel he needed to get moving or he'll lose you?"

"I dunno. It'd certainly be a switch, and I haven't been getting anywhere with how I've worked it so far, have I?

"If I tease him about how close I'm getting with some guy at school, in order to push him to make a move, and then I show up, he might figure out some way for us to be alone. But how can I turn out not to be a virgin? He'd know I'd lied to him."

"All's fair in love and war."

"You said that already. But I don't see how it wouldn't come out."

"So this weekend has ended any chance for you to get Jake. I've ruined your future."

"No! You've been what I needed!" She sat back and I could see the wheels turning. 

"I'll have to pretend I'm a virgin, won't I?"

"That's one approach. But a better one is to leave it unsaid. I mean, what's he gonna do, call a halt to the proceedings at the crucial time and say 'Jen, I want you, but only if you're a virgin?' Arkansas guys are like the rest of us, lust takes over at a certain point. So you can deal with it later. If he asks you directly, and that may not be for months, if ever. Depends on how you structure the first time.

"You tease him about how close you've gotten to doing it. Dangle yourself in front of him, show him how much you want him. At times you're aggressive, at times you're shy, scared even."

"No hymen, Carl. No blood on the sheets. Remember we took care of that yesterday."

"I read once that in the Middle Ages girls had to be virgins on their wedding night. The non-virgins put a small sack of chicken blood inside themselves so that the guy would break it and there would be blood on the sheet."

"That's really gross!"

"True. All right, let's see. You're still a virgin but you've stretched it with toys, or tampons, or something. But your vagina is very tight, he'll have a tough time getting in. No blood, but you'll be so nervous, afraid of the pain, getting pregnant, whatever. He'll just know he's the first."

"How can I fake my first time? You've probably stretched me out wide enough so taking on the entire Yale Marching Band wouldn't make somebody think I was tight." She grinned and kissed me.

"Not really. Several of the girls in the club have been having sex since they were 14, lots of sex, with lots of guys. I've slept with a couple of them, and they're tight enough. I think it's childbirth that stretches you out to the point where you're, well, loose.

"Look, a virgin pussy is by definition tight. But a tight pussy isn't necessarily a virgin pussy. There are exercises you can do to control your pussy muscles, so you can be so tight when he pushes in that he'll have to struggle. How's he gonna know? He's never done this before."

"Kegel exercises, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Jen blushed. "Janie does them. She says it's a lot of fun to make your boyfriend cum in a sitting position, without either of you moving. She says it's like milking him! There are these stainless steel balls she uses for practice. She says she has stronger muscles in her pussy than anywhere else."

"Wow, you're way ahead of me."

"I've thought she was pretty far out, but maybe I should talk to her about this.

"So let's see," and the wheels started turning again. "I figure out how to get Jake alone for a couple of days, tease him unmercifully to the point where he's gonna explode if he doesn't make a move on me. I give him every indication that I'm willing, but nervous. He manfully overcomes my hesitation. I mean, this is gonna be tough."

"This is going to be fun, and you know it. It all depends on your attitude. 

"But hey, maybe you should drop the Jake thing and pursue someone else."

"NO! Dammit, no! It's JAKE I want!" She hit me hard on the shoulder.

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," I said, rubbing my shoulder. "You know," I mused, "you made a great choice about your birth control method, didn't you?" 

"How so?"

"The shot. No packets of pills, no diaphragm, he'll never suspect."




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 18



"Yeah, true. I figured I'd tell him about it when we got together, whenever, at school or Janie's house, that I'd planned ahead, just for him."

"That was then. You're not gonna see him till next summer, right? Unless you crap out on the ski trip over Christmas."

"Daddy'd have a cow. It's just the three of us. I have to go."

"Look, guys have been trained that we're responsible for birth control, and that's the condom. It's manly to use one."

"So of course he'll have a stash at wherever we wind up? Ha! Now I know y'all're in fantasyland."

"What I'm thinking is, when you get close, you make a big deal about not wanting to do it without one. You hesitate, not because you don't want to make love, but because you're afraid of getting pregnant. You make him go get one. Or two. Or twenty."

"Y'all're a real snake about this, aren't you?"

"I'm having fun imaging this," I said truthfully. "Hey, you need to know how condoms work. Wanna try one?"

She sat up very straight. "I like doing it without them. I told you that."

"So do I. But you have a role to play with Jake. You can be all fumbly, but when it comes to the point of actually doing it, you want it to go right. If you leave him in complete charge, he could screw up and the moment could be ruined. Or worse, it'll come off or break and he'll be a wreck till your period. Which, if I recall correctly, could take three months."

She thought about it. "Okay, you're probably right. Got any? Oh boy, that's dumb, of course you do."

I was getting hard. "Back of the drawer," I said, gesturing to the bedside table.

She pulled out a foil packet. "This?"

"Right. Tear it open." I was really hard now.

"It's wet."

"Lubricated for her pleasure," I snarked. "Now roll it on."

She looked at it like it was Yorick's skull. "Which way?"

"Nipple side out."

"Oh yeah, that was dumb."

"Pinch the top a little, that'll leave room for the cum, the nipple doesn't always hold the load. Put it on the top.

"Now roll it down the shaft, oh yes, that's nice. Not all the way, there has to be something to grab on to when I come out of you."

"That's gross."

"But there's no bed mess, nothing to clean up."

"True, I guess, never thought of that." She had it on me and was playing with my balls.

"You hot to trot?"

"Very. Will you ride me?"

"Cowgirl. I like that." She started to mount me. "Whoops, scrunchies," and she grabbed them, then mounted me.

"That was easy, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, no hairs getting caught. Good idea," she said, kissing me.

"Feel any difference?"

"Nope. You?"

"The latex is very thin, but I feel there's something between us. So you're gonna have to work extra hard to make me cum."

She bounced a couple of times, then held herself up so that just the head was inside her, and rotated herself. "Like this?"

"More." I thrust up a couple of time, barely inside her so I was stimulating the head.

"Sure." She slid all the way down and swirled her hips.

I lay back and thumbed her clit as she slowly rode me, marveling at the bounce of her breasts. Her bush, once so difficult to navigate, was now a decorative invitation to her pussy. It was easy to see my cock sliding in and out, the lips tight on me. 

She broke my reverie by leaning forward, supporting herself on her hands and sticking her tongue into my mouth. She began to drive her hips against my pubic bone, hammering her clit into me.

"This is really nice, Carl," she husked, "so good, so g-o-o-o-o-d." Her breasts swept through my chest hair and the lust in her eyes burned into mine.

"You gonna cum soon, Carl?"

"Not yet, just feelin' good. I'll get there, but not yet. You?"

"I'm under control, but I'm feelin' it. Gotta get you." She leaned back and lifted up, just to the top of my cock. She was moving slowly now, only an inch every time, coming oh-so-close to popping off, then taking just the head back inside her. She'd rotate her hips, sometimes slide all the way down, then up again, but mostly she held herself on the head.

She was getting what she wanted. The urge was building, building. "Soon Jen, I'm gonna cum soon."

"Good. You are so gonna cum," and she worked the head some more.

"Oh god Jen, VERY soon, ogod ogod ogod-d-d-d-d-d!" and I came, arching my hips and slamming up into her.

As it was happening, Jen dropped all the way down on me, keeping my cock as far inside herself as possible. She banged her pubic bone into mine, so that it was her clit that was hammering me. I began wilting, finished, I was done.

"Stay hard Carl, c'mon, keep it in me, I'm close, I need you to keep it up. C'mon, bang me back." By keeping her pussy tight against me she wasn't causing my cockhead pain, so I humped back at her.

"So close, so close, oh yeah, oh yeah — 

"That's it, that's — o-h-h-h-h god-d-d-d-d!" She threw her head back and pushed her chest out as she pummeled me. I didn't want to grab her and make her stop, but I was relieved when she crashed down on me, gasping for breath, completely spent.

I love holding a freshly-fucked girl to my chest, feeling her heaving breasts against me as we surrender to the haze. Just in time I remembered that I had to grab the condom or it would be left inside her.

She must have felt my hand reaching between us. "No more, please," she whispered, "that was enough." For emphasis, she clamped her thighs together.

"Condom," I whispered back, "gotta take it with me." Snagging it was the last thing I remember.

*

I felt around for her warm butt, but Jen wasn't there. I got up, took the condom to the toilet and peed, then washed the dried cum off my face, chest, and cock. Jen was on the couch, clicking through her cell phone. We'd turned them off when she arrived and I realized that I ought to put in some time for the job.

"Settin' up dates?" She jumped.

"Oh, y'all startled me. No, just checking if anybody called. Got a couple of texts, nothing earth-shattering."

"Would you mind if I did some things for work tomorrow? I'll put all our pictures on a thumb drive. Do you want the ones from the dinner on Friday?"

"Absolutely! They're the start of my memories. Y'all gonna keep copies for yourself?"

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to. I'll put them in a folder called 'Hot Yalie.' " She smiled indulgently.

There were a bunch of re-schedules from the lost interviews of Thursday and Friday, but not everyone had responded — not unreasonable, since it was a weekend. Still, there were four no-responses. I sent confirmations to the re-scheduled interviewees, then updated Anna and asked about how to explain the payment procedure. No one had complained about not getting cash. Maybe they'd read the student newspaper.

My voice mail was stuffed. The reporter had called three times for a comment on the arrest. Lisa, Margery, Tom, Carrie, and Amanda had seen the story and had called to see how I was doing. My sister Chrissy had also called, reporting that mom and dad and grandma were really happy that the guy had been captured.

I was just finishing my first call-back when Jen popped her head through the door. "Hey, it's dinnertime. Wanna order pizza?"

"Good idea." I gave her the number of the shop I liked and fished $20 from my wallet.

"Waddya like?"

"Pepperoni, please. With anchovies."

"You too? I love anchovies. How about an all-anchovy pizza?"

"Only if you're willing to sleep on the couch. But double anchovies would be great."

"Okay, we'll add pepperoni and extra cheese, okay?"

Everybody wanted to know about the arrest, whether my wounds were healing, and was I going to work on Monday. Since the reporter had already filed her story, saying that neither victim was available for comment, I was off the hook until something further developed.

Chrissy handed the phone to mom, who quizzed me for details of the stitches (she is, after all, mom). Then Chrissy got back on. "A couple of people here actually heard about this. Remember Goth Girl? She stopped me at the 7-11 yesterday and asked about you. I thought she'd dropped out of community college, but I was wrong — she's been working and taking classes. In fact, she graduated and wants to go to a four-year school."

" 'Goth girl?' You mean Leslie?" We'd been part of a loose high school group, each with different interests but connected as shunned nerds. We ate lunch together and hung out. She was into Goth and I thought she was interesting but way too intense. Still, she was one of the people who made my high school existence tolerable.

"Yeah, Leslie. You always liked her, didn't you? Anyway, she wants to start in the fall and she asked me if you'd show her around if she came up to check out the place. I said I'd check."

"Sure, tell her to call me. I work during the day, but if she came up on a weekend, I'd give her the ten-cent tour." Why not? You haven't kept up with anybody from high school, even the three from your class that also came here.

I'd reached everyone except Lisa by the time the pizza arrived. "Come and get it while it's hot," shouted Jen. I checked the time and was amazed —8 o'clock!

She had jeans and a t-shirt on. "Dressing for the pizza man? No sense of adventure."

"I'm not an exhibitionist like some people I know."

"You have got to get naked. I am not eating pizza in the buff alone." Jen smirked, popped the button on her jeans and wiggled her hips, causing them to fall to the floor. At the same time she pulled the t-shirt over her head and, just like that, she was nude. 

"Okay, pull your jaw off the floor, it's pizza time." 

She'd set the table: pizza box in the center, a large bottle of Sprite with two glasses, two plates, and tented paper napkins. "Martha Stewart, I presume?"

"No, but there's no reason to just pig out either."

We sat, thigh to thigh. This shop made a good pizza and delivered it quickly, in an insulated container. It was hot, not warm, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. I insisted we each eat three slices.

"Gotta keep up your energy, the night is young."

"Are you always this randy?"

"I am merely responding to your presence," I leered, putting my hand on her thigh and stroking her pussy. She leaned into me, bringing the taste of anchovy and the rest of the pizza into play.

"Horney?"

"Y'all make me this way," she husked, wrapping her hand around my inflating cock and stroking it. She quickly had me hard.

"C'mon lover, bed."

Once there, I moved for her pussy. "Skip the foreplay," she commanded, pushing me away. "I'm hot to trot, let's go."

"Okay, lean forward, on your elbows." She flipped into doggy position and not for the first time did I admire her trim butt and delicate rosebud. Her pussy hairs weren't in the way and now they were glistening.

"Oh god that's nice, we fit together so nice, so nice," she crooned as I seated myself inside her. I reached around her hip and stroked her clit.

"Yeah, that's good. A little harder, please." She jerked as I squeezed it.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, no, it feels good, I love it that way, it gets me goin'. Keep it up." I played with it as I pumped in and out of her, and she responded by pushing back against me.

"Harder now, c'mon, push in like you mean it. It's so g-o-o-o-o-d, so nice." She swung her hips each time I stroked into her.

"Gonna cum soon Jen, soon, pretty —" and I felt my balls retracting.

"My clit, please, harder! Make me cum too! Yeah!" I was out of control, flogging her clit, shoving myself into her as deep as I could, and cumming. Jen whipped her hips around, pulling my cock with her, fucking back at me for all she was worth.

"Oh god-d-d-d-d yes yes yes! Oh god-d-d-d-d-d!" We collapsed in a heated mess, each of us struggling for air. I had enough sense to roll us to our sides and we spooned, my softness still inside her.

BURRRRRP. 

"What was that?"

" 'That' was me telling you how much I enjoyed the pizza," I grinned.

"Boys are so crude."

It was very domestic. We got up, washed the dishes, and went back to bed, which was a real mess. So we changed the sheet.

"Any thoughts?"

"About?"

"Jake. Strategies?"

She sighed. "It's not gonna be easy, is it? I'd planned on just being myself, letting the flow of being with him carry me, us, along, and we'd consummate. Now I don't know."

"Do you think it would've worked?"

She sighed again. "Probably not, or at least not the way I wanted it to. I know I have to work at it. Janie and her boyfriend started dating in ninth grade, but it wasn't until after they'd broken up, dated other people, and got back together junior year that they knew they were ready for each other. By then they'd fooled around enough — kissing, touching, second-base kinda stuff, even a little sliding into third." She grinned at the thought.

"I never did that, not with Jake of course, but not with anybody else either. Closest I came was my blind date at Dartmouth — and that was what, five months ago? Afterwards, Janie told me she'd made her boyfriend tell him not to take advantage of me, no matter what. So even though I got drunk and high, all that happened was I jerked him off through his pants and let him get his hands in my bra.

"So you're my experience."

"Packed a lot into a short time, eh?"

"And lovin' every minute of it."

"Can I change the subject?"

"Sure. It'll be a relief to get away from your insatiable demands for sex."

I jumped on her and blew a trumpet blast in her navel. She squealed, and we wrestled, then settled comfortably against the headboard.

"I'm curious, how did your family get from Vietnam to Arkansas?"

"The French did what colonialists usually do, worked with factions of whatever established elite they found. My father's family converted to Catholicism and was involved in the military. My grandfather's cousin was General Nguyen Cao Ky, the head of the air force who was Vice President of South Vietnam from 1967 to 1971. 

"General Ky was evacuated with the Americans when Saigon fell. He'd invested money in a couple of U.S. businesses and over the years he's brought relatives here. Dad was just a kid when the communists took over, and times were hard for a while, but he went to a trade school, learned to operate a very complicated lathe. One of the General's companies used these lathes, so they pulled strings and brought dad, mom, and me over. The plant was in Minnesota, but within a year they moved it to Arkansas, and we came along."

"That's amazing."

"Not really, just our piece in the American immigrant story. Africans, Germans, Irish, Italians, Asians, now Hispanics, this country has always been short on labor. For most of our history it had to be cheap and unskilled. First it was slaves, then Europeans, then Asians, now it's South Americans. But there's always been a demand for skilled labor too. Dad was just in the right place at the right time.

"Jake's family, on the other hand, were Scotch-Irish farmers. They came to Arkansas in the early 1800s, made a living on a small farm. When mechanization came after World War II, they couldn't compete, so they started working in the factories that grew up near the military base. They sold off pieces of the farm for housing developments and eventually all that was left was the old farm house, which his mother inherited. We bought the brick ranch house next door.

"Arkansas has this terrible school system, but you can make something out of it. I'm an only child and my parents drilled into me that I had to go to college. Jake's parents were the same way. I got the message that staying focused on my education precluded a social life. Besides, I felt like a misfit, and if it hadn't been for Jake I'd have been really miserable, and almost certainly wouldn't have achieved as much. So I really owe him."

"It's almost ten o'clock, Jen. I've got to be at work by eight-thirty, to set up. When do you have to go to class?"

"We convene at ten, but I want to take my stuff back to the dorm first."

"I'll drive you. I can't believe you humped that heavy bag of stuff all the way across campus."

"Well, I decided as I was walking back to the dorm that I was coming back, so when I got there I just packed what I needed. Yeah, it was a little heavy. I got here around eleven but when you didn't answer the buzzer I was convinced you didn't want me and I was ready to go back. I should've called first, like you said. When I remember that, I was so relieved when you said yes.

"Yes, I would appreciate your driving me back. Drop me off on the north side of the dorm, nobody'll see you and I can breeze in."

"Leave at eight then?"

"Great."

"Okay. We have stuff for breakfast, right? Can you stand a repeat of the bagels?"

"Oh yeah, they're great. I'll do scrambled eggs."

My cock was at half staff. I'd cum four times since I woke her up in the morning and knew I couldn't get it up again. On the other hand, a good night's rest would restore me for a morning romp — we'd just have to do it in time for a shower before breakfast.

*

Just before the alarm went off at six, I woke to Jen's mouth softly caressing my cock. I groaned out what I hoped sounded like a cheery "good morning."

"Y'all're certainly gonna have a good one if I have anything to do with it," she said brightly.

"I love morning blowjobs, but can't I give you some pleasure beforehand?"

"Carl, I am so sensitive. Just before I fell asleep I touched myself, just to see how it felt. I was tender then, but now I'm sore." She kissed my cockhead. "I'm gonna be walkin' funny for a week, so you're just gonna have to grin and bear this."

She'd certainly paid attention about giving a blowjob. Rimming the head some more and then taking me deep, she got me going pretty good. As my excitement grew, she sensed it and drove me to the edge by alternating her mouth and her hand.

"You're gonna cum, Carl, and I'm gonna have an early breakfast," she crowed as she ran her fingers over the cockhead. "Oh boy, your balls are getting' ready," and she upped the pace.

She rode me up as I arched my back and came, then floated down with me as I collapsed, drained of every drop of cum I had accumulated overnight. When I started to go soft, she slithered up and rained kisses all over my face. I pulled her close and we snuggled.

But we had to get going. I washed her back and pussy for the last time and she cheerfully scrubbed my cock and balls. We changed the bandages, then pulled on our clothes. Breakfast went quickly and we washed the dishes in contented silence. After she did a final check, to be sure she had everything, she hefted her bag and smiled. "All set."

We traded a last kiss.

"You're a wonder, Jennifer. You are gonna get Jake, I don't know how, but you will. And he'll never know what hit him."



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 19



Jen was walking funny as she lugged her bag toward the dorm's back door. As it closed behind her, I wondered if I'd ever know if she landed Jake, or just nailed him. That's what Facebook is for, idiot.

But now it was back to the grindstone. I barely made it to the psych lab by 8:45 and found Anna, my grad student boss, already there. "We should go over the script, since you've been otherwise engaged lately." How could she know about Jen?

"Why don't you do the first one, I'll watch you closely. Then you watch me and tap on the window if I get something really wrong."

While she did her interview, I mused on what she meant by "otherwise engaged" and decided it was the time I'd spent in the hospital, recovering from the slashing I'd gotten from the Lone Ranger mask, not my fuck-fest with Jen.

Anna's interview was pitch-perfect: even-toned, absolutely on script, and 45 minutes long. Mine started out a little shaky but by the end I was completely in the groove. The pang of seeing Jen walk away dissipated, and by the end of the day I was stoked about dinner with Margery. Jen may be gone and Martha would be by Wednesday, but Margery was my constant.

It was nearly Thanksgiving of my sophomore year when I saw Pete's ad for an off-campus roommate. Moving in with him was my salvation — within four months he got me into this club which met weekly to select who among them they would sleep with in the coming week. It compressed the three-step dating process into one — first date, fuck. 

My first date was with Margery, who made everything perfect, and we became good friends. With both of us on campus for summer research jobs, we had a standing Monday night date. 

She was waiting on a bench outside, all smiles. "Good weekend?" I perked, and we began walking toward a restaurant we liked.

"Great weekend," she perked back. "By Friday I'd nailed down every little niggle Carlucci had about both her articles, so she treated Tom and me to dinner. Today I started working on her book about the South Dakota photographer, which is really interesting."

"How is Tom doing?" Margery and Tom hadn't known each other when I recruited them to a picnic I'd been asked to enlarge. I figured they'd meet someone there. They disappeared for two hours and re-appeared sporting big grins, surprising me.

"He's crazy busy. In fact, that's something I need to talk to you about," and suddenly she was all verbal thumbs.

"Tom and, uh, I, uh, we've, uh, been, uh, sorta hanging out together, ever since you dropped us off." After the picnic I'd driven Margery to her dorm and they both got out. A couple of days later Tom asked me if I'd mind him dating Margery. 

"He's asked me to go steady."

"You mean exclusive?" The e-word had consequences for club members. Since we were expected to have at least one date per week with a member, going exclusive with someone meant you both had to leave the club, never to return, even if it didn't work out.

"Well," she fumbled, "it's only for the summer. And he's not a member." She blushed. "But yes, exclusive. 

"Oh Carl, I've never been exclusive with anyone! It's so nice. I wake up every morning with him. I don't have to remember where I am or who's next to me. He goes to work, I go to the library. I've even moved some things into his place."

"Damn!" I mock-grumped. "I am so pissed at losing you to an AV nerd!" I was keeping it light.

Margery giggled. "That 'AV nerd' made you the man you are today." It was true. I'd been pointed to Tom for help in getting rid of an obtrusive video setup in the psych lab, but I was the one who got credit for making the huge technical improvement. We became friends and even talked about how we might troll for women together. Guess not, eh, hotshot?

"Do you think that you'll continue with the club? There're going to be a lot of vacancies to fill. The picnic at Ruth's was a good start, but with Pete dropping out" — he'd met this girl over Spring break and she was transferring here so they could live together — "we're gonna need experienced people to keep things going." 

"Ruth has this network of people who scout out new recruits. Same thing with Amanda in the library. I know she's got three or four on the string. And Ruth has a couple of other scouts like her. 

"Besides, Tom and I may not last. I think he wants to settle down, get married even, and I don't know if I'm ready for that."

By now we'd reached Literratica, where Lisa, the only other club member still on campus, waited tables. Lit was a coffeehouse, like Starbucks but with real food, a real bar, and live entertainment. 

"I heard your musician buddy got raves last Friday," Lisa said when she brought our food. I'd met Martha, a summer mandolin student, and took her to dinner at Lit. She and Lisa had hit it off and the upshot was a Saturday-night fill-in gig at Lit for her class. The positive word-of-mouth led to them playing a lunchtime gig at the student union last Friday. It was her class's picnic that I'd taken Margery and Tom to.

"She's decided to drop out of school and take a flyer at being a professional musician. After the show she took off to some county fair where a group she knows was playing." Martha and I were scheduled for a farewell dinner tomorrow.

"Another Literratica successful launch. We're good," Lisa grinned, then headed for her next table.

Margery and I had a routine. We'd banter, catch up on our week, toss around double-entendres, eat, and play footsie, warming up for later. Now we ate and caught up, me about how my wounds were healing, she in more depth about her research. 

Afterwards we walked to her dorm. "I'm sorry Carl. Your week's not starting off well, is it?"

"Lisa's got the right attitude. Lit launches artistic careers, you launched me. I'll miss you but I'll be okay."

"What about Carrie? And Lisa, for that matter?" 

Margery had recruited Carrie to the club, but too late in the spring for her to join. Like the members of the club, Carrie wanted a sex life but had no time for the vagaries of dating. She had to support herself, which meant taking as much work as she could tending bar at SOL, a juice joint and competitive music venue to Lit, and managing SOL's string of open-air summer food concessions around campus. Outside of work and class she played softball, since she'd been a varsity walk-on. Carrie, with Margery's help, had selected me to take her virginity.

Lisa was even more driven than Carrie. She too was self-supporting, and like Carrie worked nights, in her case waitressing at Lit. Outside of work and class, she wrote. I'd confided an incident about my social zero-ness and she'd turned it into a short story that The New Yorker bought, which for an unknown college student was a really big deal. Too tired from being on her feet all night to sleep with anyone, hers were daytime dates. We'd once done a noontime picnic in an obscure public park and fucked in a shady grove of trees.

"We'll see each other, but our schedules don't mesh very well.". 

Man, talk about a dry spell. Jen's gone. Martha's gone as of Wednesday. And now Margery. Well, sorta. She'll still be around, but she'll be in Tom's bed, not yours. Hey man, there are 3,500 girls on campus right now and twice that many when fall semester starts.

Back in the apartment, I started sorting, editing, and filing the photos I'd taken recently, but my heart wasn't in it. Facebook wasn't much better, and pretty soon I'd read everyone's news, posted some comments, and added two to my own page. I cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed the living room and my bedroom, washed and put away the dishes, and changed the sheets. It was only 9:30. Laundry. You could meet a girl at the laundromat. You and Jen used every bottom sheet you've got, so you have to do this anyway.

No such luck, but the errand ate up an hour and a half. Back in the apartment, I sank into bed and tried to masturbate, but couldn't conjure a face.

*

"You really think you could stand playing county fairs for a career?" It was a rhetorical question, since Martha was stoked about her weekend. She'd gone to this county fair with her teacher, Charlie Waddington, to see some of his friends perform. 

The restaurant was the classiest on campus, at the top of the tallest dorm. It was pricy but I wanted good memories of our last night together.

"We got there just as they started their Friday night set. Oh man, was it hot! The sound system was crap, there was probably more noise coming from the audience than was getting to them, and the ferris wheel kept playing the same damn tune.

"But these guys made great music! And they invited Charlie and me up on stage to play with them! We did 'Tennessee Flat-top Box' and the crowd loved it! They said if we wanted, they would work us into the Saturday and Sunday shows instead of calling us out of the audience. It was great!"

"Did you see anything of the fair?"

"No, but who cares? You're there to work. After the show we hung out and had a couple of beers. Two of them are in AA and I'm being careful ever since the time you got me drunk." She grinned raffishly at the memory. "They probably saw me as just Charlie's latest conquest, but they were complimentary about my playing and singing. When Charlie told them he was taking me to Nashville to see about my getting started there, they promised to call their agents and other people about helping me out.

"When we pulled into the motel, Charlie got shy about telling me that he'd only reserved one room — 'but there are 2 beds.' 

"Look," I said, "in Nashville you're gonna do for me what no one else can. I hope it works out, but that'll be my problem. Right now I'm with a really attractive bluegrass mandolin player. So let's stop dancing and get goin'.

"I'd figured to undress him first, then see what he could do. When we got to the room, we tossed our bags on one of the beds. I pulled his shoes and socks off and ran my palm up the front of his pants. He groaned 'Oh darlin' and pulled me tight and I humped him. When we broke off, he held my shoulders at arms' length. 'You don't have to do this.'

"I know, but I want to. C'mon," and I pulled his zipper down.

"We got each other naked. I know I'm okay to look at" — she leered at me and I leered back — "and he looks his age, which is 51. Bit of a belly, tits that droop, balls hang low. But his cock was up for it and so was I.

"Bed, c'mon," and I pulled down the sheet, flopped onto my back, and spread my legs. "Eat me," I said.

"And he did. Pretty good too. Took his time, got me going. I orgasmed as much from the excitement as from his technique, but it was legitimate. When I got sensible he was between my legs, looking pretty randy. So was I. 'I want you,' I said, and he pointed his cock and slid it in.

"He had a condom on, which was nice since I was too excited to remember. We were smooth from the beginning and I hooked my legs around his ass and we worked up a head of steam. He had just started to cum when I got my orgasm. We made a lot of noise — you taught me that," she leered again — "and when he rolled off I was happy."

I was flashing the restaurant scene from "When Harry Met Sally" and my cock was pushing the tablecloth away. "Too much information," I gasped, holding my hands in front of my face and crossing the index fingers.

"Oh Carl," she giggled, "it's not like you and I haven't . . . Anyway, I've told you you're the one person in this world that I will ever feel free enough to talk intimately to." She had taken my hand and was looking into my eyes.

"Your cheek okay?" She was smooth, changing the subject like that. 

"Yeah. I'm wondering whether to have plastic surgery or leave the scar so I can tell girls I got it in a fight over a woman." I had my doubts that I could say this with a straight face.

"Well, it wasn't a duel, and you didn't know it at the time" — she stroked the back of my hand — "but you came by it honestly.

"Look, we love it — at least us romantic ones do. 'He got that scar by standing up for a girl? That's manly. Not like the dorks I know' will go through their heads. If you do the 'ah shucks' thing, you'll have 'em knocking down your door."

"What about the ear?" I was pulling on her fingers one at a time.

"Leave it for them to discover. It's a real notch, right, not just a scar? So she'll be licking your ear and think 'did he get this in the fight too?' Your answer is something like 'Yeah, I wasn't smart enough to get out of the way.' With a winning smile, of course."

Her toes were working their way up my pants leg, so we decided to skip dessert. We held hands walking to my apartment.

"My stuff's all packed and I'll change into my travelling clothes when we pick it up. Then you can drop me at the bus station and go to work."

I'd just locked the door when she jumped me. "God I want you three times tonight! That's the trouble with old guys," and she shoved her hand down my pants.

"You've come to the right place," I gasped as she squeezed me.

We staggered to the bedroom and everything was off in record time. I landed on top of her and started sucking her nipples and rubbing my erection against her pussy. "Get it inside, now, please, we'll play around later." I leaned back, slotted myself, and sank in. We had an understanding and didn't use condoms.

"Yesssssss, oh god, that feels so good, so goooood, c'mon fuck me, long deep strokes." 

I started slow, but soon I was pounding her. She banged against me on every stroke and dug her nails into my back. She hissed her orgasm but I couldn't cum. She tried to close her legs but I levered them open. When she tried to push me away I shoved my arms inside her elbows and spread them. I just kept pounding her.

She surprised me on the in stroke and heaved me off, then jumped on top and got me back in. I must have looked like I wanted to kill her, but I still wasn't close to cumming. 

After a couple of strokes she pulled off, grabbed my cock, and started jacking me. I still wasn't cumming. 

Then she shoved her finger up my ass! I screamed! Now I was cumming, throwing my hips toward the ceiling. She jacked me until I was dry.

The pain drifted away and I just lay there, sucking wind. Something had happened that I didn't like and certainly didn't understand. 

"What did you do?" I wimpered when my head cleared.

"I punched your prostate."

"That hurt," I whined.

"You were scary. The look on your face frightened me. I was afraid something bad was gonna happen if I didn't make you cum. I'm sorry if it hurt, but that had to stop."

There wasn't anything I could say. Maybe if I laid still and didn't say anything, the whole thing might go away. Especially the shame. 

It seemed much longer than the few minutes it probably was before Martha said softly, "you want to talk about it?" If she can unload the details of her weekend, so can you. 

"After the concert, when you and Charlie took off, it hit me. I was alone. For the whole weekend. I don't remember what I did the rest of the afternoon, but eventually I decided I'd go get a steak for dinner. I was walking to the food court when someone called my name. It was the girl from the robbery, with her summer-class group. 

"She introduced me as a hero and I told them that she was a lion tamer with the chair. They invited me to have dinner with them, so I stayed. I couldn't get interested in talking to her, but one of them turned out to be unusual. 

"We talked for a long time and eventually came here. It got really late and her trip leader phoned her, drunk, to find out where she was. She got scared and asked if she could stay. I set her up on the couch. When I woke up she was asleep next to me, on top of the sheet. Gotten scared again, she said.

"She'd told me about how she was a virgin and in love with this guy-next-door back home, but he had no clue. All of a sudden she came on to me. I made her leave, told her if she really wanted to, she could come back, but she had to spend the weekend.

"I took her to her dorm before work on Monday. She left for California this morning."

"Then last night Margery — you remember, from the picnic?" Martha nodded — "she told me she was going to move in with Tom — the guy I brought to the picnic?" — again she nodded — "and not pal around with me any more. 

"So I was dying to see you, but in 10 hours you'll be gone too."

She wiped her cum-laden hand on my belly fur and we laid there, lost in our own thoughts. Finally she turned, kissed me, and we locked eyes, 

"If I thought it was sex you were talking about, I'd slap you silly. But we both know better." She smoothed the hair that had stuck to my forehead.

"I know about feeling lonely and unloved. What you are feeling isn't that. What you're feeling is loss, not of someone to sleep with, but not having someone to help. Am I right?"

"No, no, that's ridiculous! Margery's completely self-sufficient. Jen may be just a freshman, but she's already a published scholar. And look at you. We both know you're going to be a success."

"You don't see it, do you Carl? Or maybe you don't want to admit it." She stroked my chest. "You are not only a romantic, you're the most caring guy I've ever met. 

"You didn't just sleep with that freshman, did you? I bet you spent hours scheming with her, to figure out how she could get the guy. 

"And you and your club. You've helped Margery get past her loneliness, to the point where she can form an attachment. That's a big deal." This is getting deep and it's going the wrong way.

"What about you?"

"I came here for two reasons. Number one, to get away from Michael. Number two, to improve my musical skills. Turns out I also got to expand my sexual horizons. You wheedled me into bed and helped me learn I had value beyond Michael-and-Martha. 

"You were so patient. You taught me how to let my emotions out and how to give a blowjob." She batted her eyes.

"You've been my rock in developing the courage to try becoming a professional musician. Charlie's the means to that end, but I doubt if I'd have gone through with it without your support."

"What you're describing isn't me. 'Me' is a horny late adolescent who's in over his head with people who are much more focused."

"Right about horny," she said, gently squeezing my cock. "But you're missing something."

"Which is?" 

"You see caring as a weakness. But people who have your kind of impact on others are rare and beautiful. 

"Look at how you've affected Margery, the freshman, and me. You've known me for what, five weeks? The freshman, you met her last Friday, right? And Margery, it's been four, five months? I bet if we drilled down we'd find others.

"Teachers help people. Mother Theresa helped people. And you're cut from of the same cloth. You've got a gift, I don't know what it's called, maybe empathy. You need to find your niche, and when you do, you will be the most satisfied of men." She stroked my cheek and ran her fingers through my hair.

"I can't see how," I said, choking up. She pulled my face to her chest. "I've gotta get there from here." I was speaking from between her breasts.. "Right now I'm 10 hours away from your leaving, and that hurts." 

"There'll always be this feeling when they fly away. But the world has an endless supply of people who need you. I'll always remember you and what you did for me. And I'll bet the others will too."

I lifted my head up, my vision blurry. "Do you really think so? I don't know how to do this. I'm so scared I'll make a mess of it, hurt someone."

"Somewhere in this vast university there is someone who can help you learn what to do. You just have to find them."

She hugged me and stroked my cheek. I fell asleep.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 19



*

It must have been the toilet flush. The bedside clock read 10:50 as I looked up to see a naked Martha walking toward me.

"Feeling better?"

"I think so. Thank you for putting up with me." She slipped under the sheet and pressed her breasts to my chest. She must have cleaned me up because her hand on my cock didn't feel like it was scrapping off barnacles.

"When I woke up, you were in this tight little ball. I got back with the cloth and you'd opened your legs enough that I was able to clean you up and get the wet spot. I see that your fridge has improved, so it's eggs and bacon tomorrow morning. And juice, not Sprite."

"Jen — that's the freshman," she nodded encouragingly, "didn't want to go out to eat around here because she'd lied to her group about where she was going and didn't want to get caught. So we went to that place up the river, then did a food run."

"And had pizza for dinner on Sunday."

"Yes. How'd you know that?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson. Pizza box in the trash, big bottle of Sprite where you always have cans. Not likely you had pizza for lunch. And you just confirmed it." She was good.

"Can we make love now? I am so ashamed about how I treated you."

"Yes we can. And our recent encounter doesn't count as one of the three you're gonna give me."

"I'm not sure I can deliver on that," I smiled, shifting toward her.

"Then we need to hydrate you. Sprite, orange juice, or water?" She moved to get up.

"Passion juice!" I barked, lunging for her. She squealed as I pulled her back and began the assault on her pussy. I dived in, excited but under control as I licked up and down her opening. She got wet pretty quickly and I sucked her lips just hard enough to get a moan. When I moved in on her clit it was out and stiff. One, then two fingers in her, wiggling and stroking, with my mouth on the clit had the desired effect, and she came, albeit quietly.

We knew each other well enough that I could kneel between her legs and slot myself as I waited for her to come down. When she focused her eyes, she smiled. "Yes, please," and I slid in. We moved rhythmically and she moaned happily as I stroked calmly. 

"A little faster now, yes, go deeper. That's nice," and she hooked her ankles around my waist. When I came she bucked and came too.

I woke about 20 minutes later, peed, and brought the cloth back. I swabbed her and the bed, then got two glasses of juice. She was awake and looked contented. 

"Thank you. If that was a warmup for our next round, I am going to need this." We drained the glasses and the refills, then cuddled and fell asleep.

*

"Round 2?" she asked when I woke her around 2:30.

"Yes. I dreamed about you."

"And doing it doggie?" How did she know?

"Because I was dreaming about it, too," she grinned, reading my mind. "Guess you picked up on it."

She rolled onto her belly and I scooted behind as she lifted her ass. I wasn't hard enough, so she grabbed my cock through her legs and soon had me ready.

"Nice, so nice, do me now, I want you."

Her wetness surprised me as I slid in. Soon she was banging back at me as I stroked into her. It wasn't rushed, just easy fucking, two friends joined in that wordless carnal conversation.

"I was just going to ask for that," she husked as I began to play with her clit. She upped the rhythm as I got it out from the hood and pressed it against her pubic bone. "Yes" she murmured as I played with her clit and stroked into her.

"Are you ready to cum?"

"I'm holding off for you. Tell me, please. Your clit's hard, I think you're close."

"Yeah, pinch it." I did, and she bucked. "Harder," and she bucked again.

"Oh yeah, now it's happening, c'mon Carl, make me cum!"

I worked her clit hard and held tight against her ass as I thrust into her. "Oh god yes, sooooo good, keep it up, I'm getting there."

"God I hope so, I'm so ready to cum — oh god, now, I'm cumming, cummmmming!" I blasted into her.

"Don't stop, keep playing with me, I'm almost there, almost — almost, close, oh yessss, nowwwww!" and she drove her ass into the air, then crashed onto the bed, taking me with her. She writhed on my cock as I slowed, then stopped.

I kissed her neck as we recovered. A satisfied "mmmmm" was my reward, and I fell asleep happy.

*

The alarm going off at 6 startled both of us. She was tucked into my crotch and the wet spot was where you'd expect it to be. I floated my fingers across her haunch. "Wake up time," I whispered as I shifted into position to kiss her ass.

"What're you doi —" she started sleepily, but my finger entering her pussy explained it.

"You said three, that's what."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to." She rolled onto her back and I languorously tongued from her forehead to her toes, then crossed over and eventually got to her already-wet pussy.

"Ride me. I want to remember you with your breasts flying around and that 'determined-to-cum' look on your face."

"You're gonna wish you hadn't asked for this. I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll fall asleep at your computer." She was on me now, squeezing my cock.

"Then I'll lose my job, but I'll be a happy street person."

Martha did cowgirl well. She started with her hands on either side of my head, allowing me to play with her nipples. Her eyes locked on mine and at first she just churned. As I began to get excited she sat up, lifting and dropping down fully, gradually increasing the tempo. When I started pushing into her, she'd take me deep. I'd play with her clit with one hand and tweak a nipple with the other. 

The part of Martha's cowgirl I liked best, though, was when she got really excited. It was then that she would fly, lifting herself to just the tip of my cock, teasing the head. Sometimes she'd slide down, churn a little bit, but always return to tease the head and make me cum.

"You really want this, don't you?" she said huskily as I humped into her.

"And how! Make me cum, Martha, get wild!" She sat upright, cupped her breasts, and rose to the tip of my cock, then began gyrating wildly. I got the sight I loved. 

"Oh god, that's too much, I'm gonna — CUMMMMMING, I'M CUMMMMING!" I howled and shot what felt like a firehose into her.

"Good!" She dropped onto my chest but still churned on me. "Play with me now, make me cum too!" I was dazed and don't know if what I was doing helped, but I worked her clit hard. I knew I had her when she began slamming against me. When she stiffened, hissed "yessssss," and then collapsed onto me, we became a sweaty, messy heap, gasping for air.

We showered, changed the bandages, then dressed. She had me assist in frying the eggs and bacon. We were running a little late, so we left the dishes for later and drove to her dorm. While she changed into her travelling clothes, I carted her stuff — two instrument cases, a very big suitcase, and a couple of duffle bags — to the car. We were at the bus station by 8:15.

How are you going to do this? You can't make a scene. Get her stuff to "Checked Baggage." She doesn't leave for a couple of hours, but you have to get going.

After depositing her bags, we walked into the gritty waiting room and dropped into two plastic seats. She slid her backpack off, folded her hands in her lap, and leaned into me.

"I don't mean to sound mushy, Carl, but I want to tell you that I love you." I must have looked stricken but she kept going. "No, not romantically, we don't have that. I love you because of what you have done for me. No one else could have done this." She stood up and I followed. "I'm going to fly away now and you are going to go to work. Hug me." 

We held each other. I trembled, sniffled, but held back the tears.

"Go on now," she said, setting me loose. "Get to work. Remember our good times."

*

I was feeling pretty low and must have looked it. Anna noticed. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just saw a good friend off to her future, and I doubt if I'll ever see her again. Life sucks."

"You wanna go first?"

"Yes, please. I want to get out of my head."

It wasn't great, just okay. My second wasn't perfect either but more than adequate, and I was at least functioning. As we left the elevator, on our separate ways for lunch, she sat me down on the bench outside the building.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm not very good at having people come into my life and go out again."

"I know what you mean. Hey, you free for dinner? The boyfriend's working late. Home-cooked meal."

"Oh, yeah, sure. That's very nice of you."

"Good. I'll text you my address. 6 o'clock?"

*

I knocked on the apartment door at 6:02. "It's open, come on in," Anna sang out, so I pushed through the door.

"SURPRISE!"

The small living room erupted in a gleeful roar and I nearly fainted. Through my daze I saw Lisa, Carrie, Tom, Margery, Professor Draper and his secretary Marilyn, Amanda from the library, Anna of course, and a guy who had to be her boyfriend — even Paul, who had gotten Martha home after the awful drinking session at Lit Saturday before last.

Lasagna, red wine, and salad were on the dining table. We sat around, laughing and talking. I got teased unmercifully about my hero status and my lame explanation for my scars; how it was a good thing they'd invented digital photography or I'd be in debt up to my eyebrows paying for film and developing; and of course my passage from being a teenager to "adulthood." Anna wisecracked about the university president becoming my best friend at the hospital so I wouldn't sue him.

The lettering on the cake was succinct: "Teen No More XX."

Tom Skyped a telephone call with Pete. His technological topper, though, was a three-way call with my parents at home and my 16-year-old sister Chrissy at band camp. It was so smarmy that I choked up.

"You only turn 20 once," toasted Jeremy, Anna's boyfriend, with real champagne. "You've escaped teenagerhood. Alive. Congratulations!"

As I thanked Anna and Jeremy for the party, I wondered how it came about. "You told Lisa when your birthday was. She took it from there." And the cake? "Carrie, in SOL's kitchen."

Lying in bed that night, I basked in the afterglow. Remembering how jealous I was when Pete got all those cards and presents at Christmas, I realized that I could have friends who cared. I did have them. And it felt good.

* "Hi Tom, you're the next victim. Any last requests?" I hadn't seen him in two weeks and now it was twice in 24 hours. I'd slotted several of my friends into the study, since they fit the criteria and could use the $150 we were paying.

"Yeah. Bury me far away from any know-it-all bureaucrats." When we talked after the interview, I learned that the project using Lit as the test site for the new student ID cards was actually happening, and he was project leader. He also mentioned, matter-of-factly, that he was working on the video of the Saturday and Sunday charity softball games that Carrie was involved in.

"Do I detect Margery's fine hand?"

"Yeah. She 'volunteered' me. Turns out Fernandez's tour has some sort of deal for the broadcast rights of the games they play and their bus has a video editing suite. I've seen two of the videos that they've done and the camerawork is, well, honestly, mediocre. I want to do as good a job as the women's College World Series games on ESPN."

"I love it when you talk tech," I teased him.

"Yeah, but I love this stuff. You're gonna be there, right? You're down as 'Official Photographer' on Carrie's list."

"Great way to meet girls," I snarked, then regretted it, but Tom let it pass.

"See you Saturday."

It was the end of the first Summer half-semester. The next four days would see almost 2,000 students leave and another 2,000 arrive. The softball game was being hyped as the event for Saturday and Sunday. New talent in town. Ummmm.

I did a food run. A dozen eggs, bacon, English muffins, OJ, and milk. And a coffeemaker like Jen's. With her kind of coffee. You'll have to learn to cook breakfast and run the coffeemaker. Maybe even drink the stuff. Why is life so complicated? 

*

"You've healed up real nicely," the doctor said as she finished checking my cheek and ear. "No need for the bandages. Try not to shave the area until next week." Her eyes danced. "What's you story for the girls about these?" 

"Got into a knife fight over a woman, didn't move fast enough. Think it'll fly?"

*

The Lisa Fernandez Touring All-Stars bus was parked near the grandstand and looked like it belonged to a touring rock band. Fernandez did an interview with the local TV station in the morning, during which she boasted that they were undefeated. I think this was to boost attendance. It ran every half hour all day, promoting the 2:30 game.

"We're good. We give you an edge, because we only have five players — pitcher, catcher, first base, shortstop, and an outfielder. You provide the umpires, it's your home field, your crowd. On the other hand, my ERA is under 1.50 and we score more than 5 runs per game. Give it your best shot."

The state university system had designated our campus as a regional tournament center for spring-season high school and college athletic tournaments, so the varsity soccer, lacrosse, baseball, and softball facilities are pretty good. For baseball and softball there's this v-shaped brick grandstand with baseball on one side and softball on the other, with locker rooms in between. Counting the metal bleachers on the baselines, the softball side seats over 600 and they video every game.

"Be down in a minute," Tom hollered from the bucket truck he was using to position a camera on a pole in center field. 

"Six cameras! They're better'n ESPN! Fernandez has her own setup, including these cameras. C'mon, you gotta see this."

Tom knocked three times, paused, then knocked again, and the door opened. Up three steps and turning left, I met the blue light of massed video screens. Tom introduced me to a tallish woman. "This is Brenda, the director. Also bus driver, chief tour manager, and one mean techie." Brenda smiled hello and blushed slightly. 

"Everything's okay?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. I've never gotten this kind of tech support. Usually we have to recruit kids to stand guard over our camera tripods just to make sure they don't grow legs. This is really sweet."

The chair next to Brenda was occupied by someone I remembered vaguely from the game I'd attended with Carrie. "This is Michelle," said Brenda, and Michelle smiled hello. "She's here to provide color commentary for the game, since I don't know anybody on your team." I must have looked blank.

"The two of us will watch the game here and record a very rough play-by-play. Afterwards we'll write a synopsis of the game's highlights, then we'll ship it and the feeds from the cameras back to our studio for editing." I probably looked as befuddled as I felt.

"Tom didn't clue you in, eh? You're the sports photographer, right?" That was a stretch. 

"Uh, yes, but he didn't explain all this."

"Okay, let me give you the big picture." She took a deep breath. "The Lisa Fernandez Touring All-Stars barnstorm around the country raising money for charity every summer. 12 week season. Three, sometimes four, games a week, plus two on weekends. The charity supports the production of drugs for 'orphan diseases' that the big companies either can't make a profit on or have dropped production of."

"I thought you just played a bunch of exhibition games, like The King and His Court." They'd played a couple of games near us one summer.

"Ha! We're League of Their Own meets Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars and Motor Kings. We're twenty-first century technology and marketing. We raise big bucks and have fun doing it."

"But doesn't this bus, the video gear, salaries, cost a lot?"

"The local sponsor commits to feed and house us and we keep the first $2,000 of the gate and half of anything over that. Last year we averaged $2,500 per game. You do the math."

I pulled out my smartphone and began punching numbers. "Okay. 5½ games a week, 12 weeks, $2,500 per game is — wow, $165,000, that's amazing! Still, the costs have to cut into this."

"Lisa's an Olympic hero, an international star player who's now a megastar coach. She knows tons of retired pros, a lot of whom think it'd be a blast to re-live their youth road-tripping around the countryside all summer, playing ball. Nobody gets paid, only expenses. A member of the charity's board bought the bus cheap, as a donation, from a rock group that needed something bigger. Another board member is an officer of a national motor freight company, so we have one of their credit cards and get a really good deal on diesel."

She flipped on the lights and walked me into the bus's interior, limping slightly. "We've got seats like a first-class airplane, we can sleep in them if we have to. It's air-conditioned and there's wi-fi, a bathroom, and a small kitchen." 

"What's in for the hosts? Certainly not the money."

"You mean beside the fact that a local team gets to play against Lisa Fernandez? Well, maybe it's that we also give free clinics for girls ages 8 to 18, taught by Lisa and at least one other name pro. 

"Since Lisa and usually one or two of the players coach at the college level, they're scouting new talent for their schools. Lisa's a good speaker, so she does Rotary clubs, stuff like that. If we're in a part of the country we've never seen before, we get to be tourists. It's like Thelma and Louise and playing ball all summer."

My head was swimming as I headed to the field. Our team was warming up while Fernandez was signing autographs for kids, parents, fans, and (surprising to me) a good many men. The other players were putting on a batting show, daring a rotating group of pitchers to stop them from hitting their pitches wherever they wanted to. The announcer was having a ball.

"You guys ready?" I asked Carrie when I found her.

"Like lambs to the slaughter, but we don't care. I'm gonna get three at-bats against Lisa Fernandez! Portia's got me up second." Portia was the catcher I'd met when I'd invited myself to Carrie's morning pickup game after the first time we'd fucked. She had a cannon for an arm so I couldn't imagine the All-Stars stealing many bases.

The grandstand was almost full and the bleachers were filling. At $4 a pop, it looked like the All-Stars would hit their target.

The announcer mentioned the charity three times as she introduced the players. I assembled the teams for a group photo and had Fernandez and Portia pose separately. The sports editor for the student paper was there and the TV station sent a crew.

Fernandez led off and drilled the first pitch over the fence. Unfortunately it hooked foul, but it was a monster. The next pitch was a brush-back, and she glared at our pitcher, who winked at her as the crowd roared. Fernandez bunted the third pitch along the first base line and zipped past the pitcher fielding it. On the first pitch to the second batter, she made such a good feint to steal that Portia rifled the ball to second. Fernandez winked at our pitcher.

This cat-and-mousing went on for four innings. The All-Stars scored four runs while we were three-up-three-down except for a walk and Carrie's bloop single on her second at-bat. I caught her huge grin as she composed herself on first base. Both runners were erased on double plays.

Things improved in our half of the fifth. The heat seemed to get to Fernandez and she walked two batters before getting a strikeout. She bounced the ball in front of the plate to the next batter and the runners advanced. With the count at 3-and-1, prudence dictated a walk and, even though it filled the bases, she did it.

Our next batter, a right-hander, had struck out swinging on her first at bat. The outfielder was shaded to right and the infield was back, conceding the run if she got a bat on the ball. She dinged the third pitch into right field, just out of reach of the first baseman. The outfielder streaked after it and fired it in, but two runs scored and we had runners on first and third with only one out.




Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 19



Next up was another right-hander. The outfielder played her straight away but this time the infield was in. She popped a soft fly into shallow right that the first basemen caught with her back to the infield. She spun and zipped a bullet to home, but it bounced about 10 feet short and, while the catcher smothered it, she couldn't reach the sliding runner. Now we had three runs, there were two outs, and we had a runner on third.

Fernandez struck out the next batter on three swings.

The All-Stars threatened in the top of the sixth, but nothing came across.

In the bottom of the sixth, after Fernandez struck out the first two batters, she issued a walk. Portia caught the first pitch, a flat riseball, and the outfielder didn't bother moving. Pandemonium broke out in the stands. I was out of position for the swing but I was where I needed to be for her triumphant jump onto home plate and caught the mass of ponytails that buried her.

The next batter went down on three pitches.

Top of the seventh, Fernandez was first up. On a 1-2 count she chopped the ball off the ground so hard that she was on first before it came down. Portia brought in a reliever, who got the next batter on a weak grounder to third, but Fernandez was on second with one out.

The next batter probably looked intimidating when she was asleep. The first pitch was way wide and Portia brought in a new pitcher. Fernandez was pumped and the All-Stars dugout was loud. The crowd was really into it and so was our team. The grandstand was rocking.

The reliever threw two balls, then a strike. On 3-and-1, a hitter's count, she fooled the batter with a slow riseball the centerfielder caught on the run, but she needed a couple of steps to set and throw. It was dead accurate to Carrie, who'd drifted out for the cutoff, but by then Fernandez had rounded third and was steaming for home.

I rapid-fired as Carrie spun and zinged the relay. It was ever-so-slightly up the third-base line, but Portia did a split and one-handed it while blocking the plate. The umpire was right on top of the play and hesitated only until she saw the ball in Portia's glove. I got the shot.

"OUUUUUT!"

The ponytails carried Portia around the field as the crowd went wild. I wanted a shot of what I expected would be an angry Fernandez. The TV reporter shoved his microphone in her face.

"That was a GREAT game!" she bellowed into the camera. "This is the first time we've been beaten this summer. We want a rematch, tonight, we'll play tomorrow's game as the best-two-outa-three."

"Assuming they can get a team together and assuming you win," goaded the reporter.

"They got the team, no problem there. And I'm not assuming anything, I know we'll win tonight. Under the lights, here, 7:30, free admission, we'll pass the hat."

I thought Fernandez was way out on a limb, but within ten minutes the university president had issued the necessary instructions. Possibly because his 11-year-old daughter in full uniform was with him and he had asked Lisa to have me take a photo of them together. She sweet-talked the ticket-takers into volunteering for crowd control and passing the hat. Carrie's food vendors were overjoyed, though they'd have to scramble for more sandwiches and drinks. The sports editor wanted to see what I had, so we went to his office and downloaded everything. I barely got back to the field in time for the game.

The stands were full — in fact, there were people behind the outfield fence. The buzz must have been phenomenal.

Portia started five new players and a pitcher who wasn't in the first game. Eventually she used five pitchers and substituted for herself after her second at-bat. Over the two games she had the entire squad, 20 players, bat at least once against Lisa Fernandez. Carrie hit into a force play and struck out but she fielded six chances cleanly and turned a double play. Portia lifted her after her strikeout.

It was an 8-1 drubbing. Fernandez pitched the whole game (apparently that's the way softball pitchers are, two-a-day doesn't bother them), went three-for-five, scored three times, and had two RBIs. Portia threw her out when she tried to steal third.

Afterwards both teams partied in one of the union's private rooms, with the staff photographer happily snapping away. By 9:30 they were done. Tom was invited but had other plans.

I asked Carrie to come home with me, but she declined. "I'm bushed and probably would fall asleep on you," she said, leaning into my ear to make herself heard over the din. "Besides, it's my period. Probably Wednesday, if you're free," she leered at me. "But I've got an idea — ask the tall one over there."

*

"So did all the cameras work?" 

"God yeah. We got everything. The first pitch in the first game, the one Lisa destroyed? The camera got it perfectly! And it just got better. I've never done two games bangety-bang like that. My arms ache."

"Did you get any dinner?" I hadn't, and I was hungry.

"Nope. There's all this post-game stuff we needed to do, and usually I have all night for it. Michelle and I had to rush, so all I got was the yogurt from the fridge — drat, I've got to restock that. Nope, I'm famished. What's open around here?"

It's almost 10. Other than Lit and SOL, which will be zoos with all the new kids, there's nothing you know of. It'd be embarrassing to take her to the union. Wait. We passed a place coming back from the food fetch last Saturday. Looked okay. You really should make an effort to enlarge your eating horizons beyond places where you know someone who works there. 

Squires was a 12-table steak and burger place. We had to wait ten minutes for a table, but there was no din, just a low buzz.

"How'd you get into this?" The server had brought our over-stuffed burgers and beer and we were digging in.

"I was a junior at Arizona State. We were in the quarter-finals of the College World Series when I ripped up my left knee. The orthopedist said it was like a war wound and my athletic career was over. After three operations they got me to where I can walk straight, but I have this limp.

"Lisa was doing color for ESPN and heard about what happened. She came to the hospital and sat with me. 'There is life after softball,' she said, 

"I was majoring in computer science and decided I'd teach high school. ASU let me keep my scholarship and made me an assistant coach. I took an extra year for my masters in teaching. This suburban school district had decided to become a statewide softball powerhouse and recruited me. I told them I had to teach computer science, not gym, and after they got over the shock, I got the job. I've been there five years. 

"The second year I was there, Lisa called. Would I manage this barnstorming tour she was putting together next summer for her charity? I missed the camaraderie of playing on the road, so I signed up.

"We played 23 games in eight states that summer, driving around in five cars and more often than not sleeping in them. That winter we came up with the business plan. The charity hired an agency to book us dates. A board member bought the bus from a rock group that needed a bigger one and donated it. I worked with the guys who refitted the bus to install the tech stuff. Between me and a college student assistant, everything runs smoothly.

"Enough about me. How'd you get into photo journalism?"

I gave her an abbreviated story of my life, omitting the failures, and by the time we were done she'd equaled the dozen shots I'd taken inside the tavern. It was after 11 but I invited her to review the day's photos and she didn't bat an eye. She settled into my desk chair and flipped through the 300+ images from both cameras in about 15 minutes, making insightful remarks as she went. We agreed on almost everything, including one I'd taken of her at dinner.

I licked her ear from behind and she leaned back for me to reach her throat. I turned the chair around and she stood, ground into my crotch and shoved her tongue into my mouth. Her t-shirt came off easily, her bra was no problem, and her sandals were gone by the time I got her shorts and panties to the floor. She pulled my shirt off, then my cargoes and sandals. When she flopped onto the bed and gave me this come-hither look while licking her lips, I was gone.

She was wet, willing, and verbal when I moved my face between her legs. Her bush was neatly trimmed, her pussy lips were dark red invitations, and her clit was out when I reached it. She orgasmed twice and I lifted her ass off the bed so she wouldn't crush me with what were the firmest set of thigh muscles I'd ever seen up close.

"Okay, now," she commanded.

"You on top."

"Can't. Knee. C'mon, baby, do me."

I scrambled for the condom and was inside in two strokes. Brenda moaned deeply as I bottomed out. She had me skip the slow deep strokes and hooked her heels on my ass to pull me in, wanting a fast pace. After days of unfocused masturbation I was more than ready to cooperate. Her final orgasm arrived sooner mine but I bellowed louder. It was almost one when we fell asleep.

I ate her to a satisfying orgasm in the morning and she blew me after we showered. She inspected my scar and pronounced my explanation bullshit but admired the true story. I made a bad version of fried eggs and buttered muffins and she called me a culinary work in progress. We were at the bus in plenty of time for the 10:30 game and she introduced me to Andy, her "roadie."

Sandy, our center fielder who had started both games, was in the colorcaster's seat, replacing Michelle, who she said was starting and batting first. Portia was holding herself, Carrie, and one other starter out until their substitutes had batted twice.

The All-Star's outfielder pitched and Lisa played first base. She hit a solo home run, a single, and a double in six at-bats. In the top of the fifth we got them 1-2-3, the first time we'd done that, but the All-Stars were ahead 4-2 and Lisa came in to pitch.

Our batter bunted the first pitch and was on. Next up also bunted and was out, but the runner was on second. Third up bunted up the third base line and beat it out. First-and-third, one out. A conference was held in the circle. 

In the previous two games Allison, the batter, hadn't even gotten a foul ball, but Portia was on deck. Lisa's first pitch was flat, medium-speed, and down the middle. Allison crushed it —directly to the shortstop, who zoomed it to first for the double play.

The All-Stars got a run in the sixth and we got it back in our half. They got a two-run homer in the top of the seventh and we went down 1-2-3.

I was probably the only person who thought losing 7-3 was a downer. The traditional two lines of high-fives were all smiles and everyone mixed around home plate afterwards. All 20 of our players had batted at least twice against Lisa Fernandez, the greatest American women's softball player of all time! As the PA system blared the reminder about the clinics starting at 2, I ran into Andy, who had assembled all the players' gear and was humping it to the bus.

"Oh there you are. Good. Could you do us a favor?"

"Sure. What's up?" 

"Well, Brenda says you take good pictures. The kids will want photos with Lisa. Could you do that?" As opposed to getting a nice lunch, cooling off, and having the afternoon to myself? Dumbass, she's good looking even in that green-and-gold uniform shirt.

She slathered me with SPF40 and for the next three hours I shot over 200 pictures of Lisa Fernandez and an endless stream of girls. Andy stuck close, taking down their names on her clipboard. Every 20 shots she had me take a closeup of it so she could match the photos with the girls. Brenda had every aspect of the clinic highly choreographed. 

It was over by five and I asked Andy to dinner. "Let me check," she said, and a few minutes later came back. "I'm good, but I've got to stow everything in the bus." She smiled. "Extra hands make light work," 

The cameras and an amazing amount of clinic equipment fit into built-in compartments. In a half hour she locked up and I stated the obvious: "we both need a shower and a change of clothes." We agreed to meet at her dorm at 6:30. I took a quick shower and downloaded everything from both cameras. I found a nice picture of her, cropped it, and set it up at the end.

Anna had once mentioned a place in what she described as a "challenged" part of town. They didn't do reservations but said 7 o'clock would likely be fine.

Andy cleaned up pretty good. Her green-and-gold uniform was replaced with a pink polo shirt and linen pants. 

"So how'd you get this job?" I wondered as we settled into our table.

"I am an all-sports junkie. Played lacrosse in prep school but I'm not varsity material, so now I play intramural everything. I TiVO SportsCenter and watch it before breakfast. I'd like to go into sports management, which is not exactly something you can major in at Smith. Nineteenth-century English lit, yes. International Studies, sure. Even fucking. But not sports management. 

"Last winter SportsCenter's website had this announcement about Lisa looking for a summer intern. They wanted female, college junior, all summer on the road, expenses only. It said 'reply with resume to peaches@gmail.com.' Peaches was the name of the team in League of Their Own, so I addressed my cover letter to Dottie Hinson, who was their catcher and leader. I got a phone interview, then did a video interview, and they hired me."

"Is it what you expected?" The food arrived and we dug in.

"My cousin was a roadie on John McCain's press plane in 2008. He made sure their bags didn't get lost, tucked them into bed when they got drunk, even slipped them rubbers when they got lucky with the interns. It was all about a job in the White House, but McCain lost. Brenda says everyone who's had this job has gotten hired by some major-league franchise or another. So it's fun and a great opportunity."

Like Brenda, Andy quizzed me about photo journalism and it dawned on me that either I'm good at this or they have a wildly skewed idea of who I am. I had her take some shots of the kitchen and the owner as we left. 

At the apartment we titled each photo with the girl's name and the clinic date and Andy uploaded everything to their Flickr account. She praised my game photos and was blown away by hers. "It's great! May I have a copy? I'll use it on my Facebook page."

She kissed me back eagerly and ground herself into my erection. Her pink bra was a front-loader and her nipples were hard. The pink panties smelled nice and her sandals were gone when I got there. I kissed up her thigh and flicked her clit. She "mmmmm"-ed encouragement as I stood and slipped out of my sandals. She had my pants off in one motion and said "nice" as she inhaled the first three inches of my cock while I shucked my shirt. When she flopped onto the bed and spread her legs, I scrambled for her pussy.

"Please, no, let's fuck first." I pulled a condom from the drawer and was tearing it open when she took it. "Lemme do that." Then she laid back, spread her legs, licked her lips, and sighed deeply as I entered her.

"Just like I remember. C'mon, let's get sweaty." Her lust pulled me in and we fucked fast and furious. My orgasm built quickly but when she stiffened and grunted her orgasm, I wasn't quite there. Then she spasmed her pussy around my cock. "Andy, that's too much." She did it again. "God I'm gonna cum! Cumming, now, oh goddddd!"

I took her in my arms and rolled her on top, so her heaving chest was pumping her breasts into me. Soon I felt my cock sliding out.

"God I needed that," she perked. I nabbed the condom and dropped it in the basket. "Can you stay?" I wanted more of this.

"ETD at 9:30. I need to be back by 7:30 to roust them out. And change! If they catch me in this outfit I'll never hear the end of it."

"Good. Are you really majoring in fucking, like you said?"

She tittered. "We Smithies have a reputation to uphold. 'Smith to bed, Holyoke to wed.' I do my part." Then she blushed. 

"I mean, we're a women's college," she stammered. "The place is under siege from men — Williams, Amherst, UMass, Dartmouth, Trinity, WPI, Yale, god knows what else."

I kissed her. "We have a similar problem here. More than 55 percent of the students are female," and I wiggled my eyebrows. She laughed, then rolled off and shifted to clean my cock.

"Horny?"

"You know it! It's like having seven older sisters. There's no weekend without one of them having a conjugal visit, so they're full of advice. I'm not complaining," she said, stroking me, "but it gets kinda lonely."

We made out and I got hard again. I started to eat her but she wanted a modified 69, on our sides. Her sparse bush made it easy and soon she was thrusting into my face. Problem with this is, you can't talk. Is she as excited as you are? Her clit's out. Concentrate. Oh god, gonna cummm!

I set the alarm for 6:30 and we fell asleep. 

It was 3:30 when I woke. She was on her belly and snoring softly. By the moonlight I could see the tuft between her legs. I was tonguing her pussy from behind when she stirred. 

"Horny?" she said, groggily.

"For you. Got enough energy to ride me to heaven?"

"Uh, yeah, but you'll hafta feed me protein or I'll crash."

"Deal." Eggs and muffins, this you can do. 

Andy's mouth took control of getting me hard. She rolled the condom on, then mounted up. "You know how good you feel?" I husked as she began to rock.

"Just like you." I got her nipples hard and we built slowly, moving together.

"Back please, your clit." Her feline grin enlarged as she leaned onto her hands and spread her thighs. Her clit was, like her breasts, small, just pushing out from the folds when my wet thumb found it.

"Good?"

"Mmmmm" she hummed, and her hips began gyrating. Soon she picked up the pace. "Now we're goin' " and she sat forward and begin the rise-and-fall of her fucking. Her hair, short of shoulder length, bounced gently back and forth and her breasts jiggled as she rode my pole. 

"Deeper! Harder! Harder!" She was in full cowgirl now, her hair flying and her breasts flailing. If it wasn't her pussy working my cock, it was the determination I had to make her cum that took away my control.

"YESSSSS!" I shrieked ecstatically, shooting into her.

"Oh god oh god ohgodddddd!" and she stiffened even as she churned on me, and orgasmed. Then she fell, sweaty breasts collapsing against my matted chest. We kissed and drifted off.

*

"This is too big," she smiled, spinning the shower cap around as she stepped into the tub while I was adjusting the water temperature.

"Wanna stuff toilet paper in it?"

"What?" 

I cupped my breasts and hefted them, grinning lasciviously. She got it and swatted me. "I like my hair this way, no need to puff it up." I washed her all over and she took a suck on my partial erection but otherwise ignored it. She thought the reason for my notched ear and scar was romantic.

In the kitchen she caught on that I wasn't very good and suggested I learn how to poach eggs for serving on English muffins. Her muffin-toasting and -buttering skills were excellent.

"Thank you for staying, Andy. I hope you had a good time," I said as we arrived at her dorm.

She blushed. 

"No, really. I learned a lot, had fun taking the pictures, and the games were great."

"And the sex?"

"That was better than great." We kissed and she was gone.



Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks



Wow.

"Stand up with me," she said, and proceeded to take my shirt and undershirt off. Tossing them onto the growing pile of her clothes, she leaned in and flicked my nipple with her tongue, sending an electric shock through my body. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, her grin wider. "Okay?"

"Oh yeah, okay."

She knelt and unlaced my sneakers, pulled off my socks, and tongued each instep, sending a wave of pleasure up my legs. She looked up at me with her wide eyes and a huge grin. Then she stood. "Now you."

I knelt, pulled off her flats, and rolled her socks off, folding them and placing them in the shoes. As I started to stand, she "ah-hem"-ed and laid a directive hand on my shoulder. I hesitated, then remembered the tingling of my insteps. After the second one, I heard her "mmmmm" in an encouraging way.

I'd seen pictures of bare-chested women, of course. Margery's breasts rose and fell as she breathed, compact and perky on her light Mediterranean skin. Instinct guided me to take one of them and kiss it. She laid an encouraging hand on the back of my head and inhaled deeply.

When I broke off for breath, she flicked my nipple with her finger, only this time she'd wet it in her mouth. "You've got nice ones, too." 

Moving a half step back, she reached for my belt and undid it, unhooked my pants, then pulled down the zipper as she slid before me, lowering my pants, not letting them fall. When she tapped each calf I knew to lift my feet up. She tickled each instep with her tongue again. I couldn't stifle a moan. Of pleasure.

She stood. "Me," she said.

Her rope belt had an awkward clasp, but I guessed right and got it open on the first try. I unzipped her first, then knelt and reached up for the button. She looked down and I did the big-eyes-wide-grin thing with her, and she giggled.

After delivering the tingle, I slowly rose, flowing my hands along the back of her calves and thighs, reaching her small ass, and pulled her to me. We kissed, our tongues colliding. I tried to fall onto the bed but she stopped me.

"Not yet. First I want to free your cock."

My jockeys showed my erection pretty plainly. The head of my cock was peeking out in eagerness. She casually hooked her fingers inside the elastic and pulled them down. I eagerly lifted each foot out.

She stood and I needed no instruction to reach for her white panties and to oh-so-slowly kneel and ease them down. Again I did the wide-eyes-and-grin thing and looked up at her. She giggled again and I was ecstatic that I had pleased her. 

I'm naked with a nude woman. She has a tuft of reddish-brown hair between her legs. She has slim hips, perky breasts, smooth skin, and a great smile, which she was lavishing on me. I framed a close-up of her navel and thought of the shadows of her —

"Ah-hem," she said, and I started. I looked up and she crooked her finger. I stood, flustered, ready. For action. Whatever.

She pulled me to her and grabbed my ass. We kissed, hard, our tongues snaking into each other's mouth.

We eased onto the bed and lay beside each other. She rolled me onto my back and took my cock in her hand, squeezing it, the shaft, not the head. My pleasure moan was because I wanted this to continue. She fondled my balls with her free hand, then shifted her body so that her mouth was right at the top of my cock. I could feel her moist breath.

"I'm going to make you cum," she said.

"Are we going to make love? I really want to do it."

"We will, you bet we will! But first —" and gently she took my cock in her hand, then lowered her mouth onto the head. With her other hand she began to fondle my balls. First she sucked, then she swirled her tongue, then she pulled off with a "pop" and grinned that grin again. My contribution was several moans of encouragement.

She returned to sucking and soon I was humping her mouth. She increased her speed and took me deep inside. Then she slowed and just rimmed the head. I sensed she was watching my reaction carefully. I, on the other hand, could barely focus on the blur of her without my glasses. But it didn't matter.

"I'm gonna cum, watch out, don't —" and I blasted, but not before she had me deep inside her mouth again. 

I was mortified and tried to pull away, even as I was pumping my cum into her. She had her arm around my butt and kept me in position as she sucked and swirled and tongued my cock. As I slowed my humping and resumed breathing, she slowed the sucking and eventually slid off and moved beside me. She swept the sweat from my face and kissed my fluttering eyelids. I reached for her and kissed her, tasting the aftermath of my own saltiness.

"That was wonderful, so wonderful, oh my, oh my god, it was so wonderful," I babbled.

"There's more to come," she said, and smiled when I giggled, having caught the double entendre. 

Always after I'd masturbated, I'd felt finished but somehow incomplete. Now, as the air cooled my softening cock, I was being held by this woman who had brought me here. She was stroking my belly and pubic hair.

"Can we do more?" I asked. 

"Yeah, but first you need to use the bathroom." She got up, unlocked the door, and we walked naked to my shared bath. I hesitated as she stood aside at the door. 

"C'mon, you need to pee," she said.

My eyes begged for privacy for this intimate task.

"Need help? I'll hold it," and she reached for my soft cock. 

I froze. 'Yes, I do need to pee, how does she know? This is an intimate act, not one to be shared, especially not with a girl. Still, she had an easy way with my cock. Now she's pointing it at the bowl. Oh the relief, I'm peeing. 

When I was finished, I moved to leave, expecting her to close the door. And she did, behind us. We walked back to my room.

As I turned after locking the door, she was lying on her side. The tuft between her legs beckoned me and I lay down beside her and kissed her like I'd been doing it all my life. She kissed me back, softly. Slowly we drifted into more intense kissing. First she pulled my hips to hers and I felt the soft tuft. The she moved on top of me, pressing her breasts into my chest, nipple to nipple. My once-flaccid cock completed its magical return to life.

She sat up on my hips and took my cock in her hands, playing with it like she was steering a ship. She slapped it against her thighs, then rubbed it into her hairiness, then bent down and took the head into her mouth.

"No, please, I want to make love," I begged.

"You mean you want to fuck?" she said. I blushed.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"What? You mean 'fuck.' Okay, fuck."

"No. Tell me what you want to do."

"I want to fuck. You. Let's fuck."

"Me too," and she rolled off me. She opened her legs and motioned me between them. As I moved she slathered her saliva on her thumb and forefinger, then coated the head of my cock with it. The sensation was like nothing I'd ever thought of.

"You need to have your cock wet before you enter me," she tutored, then scooted herself forward so that my cockhead was at her opening.

"Push yourself into me," she said, softly, not commanding but inviting. I pushed my hips forward, missing high. I drew back, in confusion. 

"That's okay, try again." As I did so she guided me into perfect position. One more push and I felt her warm pussy surround my cockhead. Two more thrusts and I was surrounded by the warmest, softest, wettest feeling I'd ever known.

"Slide out, then in, not fast, not very far." After a couple of too far's and not enough's, I got it right. Soon I was pushing in and sliding out just fine and I heard our bellies slapping against each other. 

"Oh good, oh yes, yes, faster, do it faster, you're good, so good, oh yes," and more. I said some of this, and she did too. My tension built quickly and I knew I was going to cum.

"It's there, I'm cumming, oh here I cum, oh —" and for the second time this night I blasted into her. This time it was she who was humping me, thrusting herself up against me, holding me against her. We thrashed together and I finished.

Suddenly she erupted. "Oh boy, it's there, I'm cumming, stay inside oh yes, oh yes," and she swished her head around and humped against me, hard, over and over, her eyes unfocused and her mouth open. 

Slowly she settled back onto the bed, sweat everywhere on us both, our faces flushed and our breathing laboring to be normal.

I realized my weight was pressing her too much, so I rolled to the side. As I began, she grabbed my hips with her thighs so that my cock stayed inside her as we settled together on our sides. The silence was soft, and so was she. I put my hand on her haunch and stroked the cheek, surprisingly aware of how easy it was, having this body beside me. I felt my cock softening and then it slid out. The slow wasting of the warmth was yet another new sensation.

"I loved that. You are an angel."

"And you are a hard man," she said, I smiled as she deadpanned "and a hard man is good to find." 

I looked down and saw just how much cum I'd delivered. I started to be embarrassed at all of it, on her loins and mine as well as on the sheets.

"I love this scene," she said, as she saw my eyes. "Good fucking means a mess in bed. It's easy to clean up, just don't let it soak in." We went to the bathroom and I ran a facecloth in warm water and cleaned us both off. As I rinsed the cloth, she squatted on the toilet to pee. 

We went back to clean up. She followed me and sat on the end of the bed as I swabbed the sheets. When I stood up I was struck by what was happening: I, naked, after fucking, face to face with my naked, just fucked, lover, my soft cock dangling between my legs, knowing that she was looking at my apparatus, wanting it.

By now it was almost midnight. 

"When's your first class?" I asked.

"Nine," she said. "You?"

"Same time." I paused.

Then, "Will you stay here, tonight?"

"I'd love to. Thank you for asking."

"I don't have an extra toothbrush. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. I brought mine," she said, coyly.

We cuddled, then drifted off. 

When I woke it was to the soft encouragement of Margery's mouth on my cock. I looked at the clock and saw it was 2:30.

I reached for her hair and stroked it.

"Oh, sorry to wake you," she said with that grin.

"I doubt it," I said. "And besides, I'm glad you did."

I was getting hard under her attention. I focused on the situation and moved to sit up, disrupting her bobbing.

"Ready for more?" she asked, almost with a question in her voice.

"I really do want to fuck some more. Yes, let's go."

She shifted herself into a kneeling position, then leaned forward so she was supporting herself on all fours. 

"Get behind me, between my legs," she said.

I moved into position. Kneeling up against her, my rapidly-extending cock was banging against her pussy. She reached back and stroked it. "My hero," she said.

"Back up a little bit." As I did, she reached for her opening and pushed a finger inside. When she pulled it back out it glistened in the moonlight.

"Can I —" I started to speak.

"Oh yes, feel how wet I am. I'm ready for you, getting there fast," she said.

I put my middle finger into her pussy. The channel was wet and warm and tight against it. She wiggled her ass as I pulled out.

"Taste me," she said. When I hesitated, she said "Do it," in a tone that was meant to be obeyed.

"You're sweet."

"Like it?"

"Love it."

"Good."

Now, though, I was intent on entering her. I slathered my cockhead and inched forward, and she shifted back toward me. I got lucky and my cock slid right in.

Oh the softness! The warmth! The clenching of her pussy on my cock! Her ass cheeks on my belly! Her hips and mine were hard against each other. I was in heaven.

And also in heat. At first I pulled out almost too far, then rushed back in, but by the third time we were in sync.

"Lord, you feel so big! You're so long, it's so good. Do it slowly, so slowly."

Gradually she upped the pace and soon there was that sweet sound of sweaty flesh slapping sweaty flesh. I found that I could inch back and hold her hips while still stroking, but that sound was gone. I was debating which I preferred when my rumination was interrupted by her bucking against me. 

"Oh that feels sooooo good, sooooo good, fuck me, do it, push it in me," she said, or I said. 

"I'm cumming," one of us said. "Me too, I'm cumming," the other replied. I know I blasted into her and felt her pussy clenching my cock.

I fell forward onto her and we collapsed on the bed. I kissed her shoulders and the part of her back that I could reach. I tried to keep my cock inside her as I moved off, but I couldn't, so we wound up face-to-face with my softness between us.

I pulled the sheet over us and we fell asleep.

By 6:30 the sun was rising and I woke to a naked woman sleeping beside me. She snored softly as she lay on her side, exposing that tuft of pussy hair. The cum was stale on me and all over her thighs. There was a cold puddle on the sheet. I crept to the bathroom and cleaned myself with the facecloth. Rinsing it, I returned to the bed and worked on the puddle, trying not to wake her.

As she woke, she rolled onto her back, exposing her glorious pussy completely to me. It was the first time I'd seen a fucked woman in the daylight. I washed her loins and she — grinned, of course.

"Hello, lover," she said.

"Who, me? I'm just —"

"You're just a great fuck, that's what you are."

I preened.

"Really? I am?"

"I'm a connoisseur, I know what I'm talking about," she said, then turned on the Lili von Shtupp accent. "I've had thousands of men, again and again," she chanted.

"Thousands?" My heart sank.

"Well, maybe not thousands, but enough to know what I like, and you've got it. And you gave it to me last night. I'm sore." She tried and failed for a grimace, but I lapped it up anyway.

"Can we be serious?" I said.

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

I took a deep breath. "You know last night was my first time, right?"

"A star was born," she said.

"Are you just saying that?"

"Why would I? Listen, I like to fuck. I like having a variety of guys. Each time I go to bed with someone new, it's a first time. I'm unsure, he's not certain. If he's any good, we both know what we want and we work it out.

"It's no different with you. I'm where you want to be. The blowjob was to slow you down, so we could slide into it. And it was nice, very nice. You could get to be a habit." There was that grin again.

We showered together, soaping and groping. As we rinsed off, I reached for her. She came willingly to me and we kissed, passionately, as equals. Without drying off, we raced back to the bed. She grabbed my cock and, assuring herself of its growing hardness, swung herself on top of me. I reached for her breasts and she brought them to me, pushing her chest out so I could rub them and flick the nipples.

But she had more in mind.

"Oh boy, are you hard! I really like the look of your cock from this angle," she said. First she stroked it, then dropped her mouth onto it and swirled her tongue around, popping off and flashing that grin.

"You're ready, and so am I," she said excitedly as she lifted herself up on her knees and positioned her pussy opening at the tip of my cock. I watched in fascination as she danced around the head, barely touching it with her pussy lips. I tried to time her dance and push up into her, but I missed and she laughed. 

"Gotta do better than that, lover," she said gaily as she kept on dancing. The second time was worse than the first, but on the third try I caught her and she sank onto my shaft.

I kept up with her bouncing for a while, then she slowed and leaned toward me and kissed me while thrusting against my cock. She timed her thrusts to her tongue's in and out movement. My hands rushed from her shoulders to her hips to her breasts to her waist to her hips, then back and forth, searching for a place to be part of the action.

When she rose again and began furiously riding my cock, she was somewhere else. I fixed my eyes on the sight of my cock going in and out of her pussy, buried in the full bush of her.

My ejaculation caught me by surprise. By the time I formed the warning words I was pushing it into her. 

"Oh yes, that's it, cum, cum, cum in me, I want it all!" she chanted. As suddenly as my ejaculation caught me, her orgasm rushed her and she rose to the very tip of my cock, then slid to the midpoint and swung her hips wildly. Gradually she subsided and fell onto my chest, panting as I had never heard a woman pant.

"God you make me feel good, that was wonderful," she said as she recovered.

I was overwhelmed. She had gone off into her own orgasmic world, one which needed me as a jumping off place but was hers alone. When its time was spent, she came back to me.

We returned to the bathroom and wash up. Then we dressed with each other. I watched in fascination as she put her bra on backward and upside down, then spun it around and pulled the straps over her breasts. I learned yet another secret about women.

We had breakfast at the student union. As we stood to leave, she kissed me, and smiled. 

"I'm glad you joined the club. 

"I'll spread the word."

Pete hooted as I reviewed of my evening. "Three fucks and a blowjob! Man, first times don't get any better than that!"

"Well, she —"

"No! It's about you, and getting laid, and getting a life. Man, you are launched!"