12 comments/ 24601 views/ 11 favorites Summer's Warmth: A Winter Encounter By: MayorReynolds As I lay on my bed, enveloped in the darkness of my tiny college bedroom, snow flurries gently tapped on my window. My computer's screen saver cast a palette of shifting colors on me. My hands trembled as I held my cell phone; a scrap of notebook paper rested on my unstable leg. Three days—I had allowed three days to pass since the laundry room encounter. I figured that was the standard, polite amount of time to wait before calling a girl. Any less and I'd be an overeager creep. Or maybe I was overthinking it. Perhaps this was the kind of girl who didn't follow 'the rules,' if there really were any. After all, she did say she had no shame. I took a deep breath and flipped the phone's hatch open. Next would be the hard part; it always was. I dialed the area code, and then the three numbers that followed. I stopped when my nerves escaped my body. I reached out, snatched them back, crammed them into place, and dialed the last four digits. The phone rang once before it was answered... not by the girl, though. Instead, a prerecorded female voice apologized and informed me that "the number you've dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again." Figuring I'd misdialed in my nervousness, I tried again, manually entering the numbers instead of hitting 'redial.' I took another deep breath. Okay, round two. The phone rang once. "I'm sorry, but the number..." I closed the hatch and slammed my phone down on the mattress. Son of a bitch! Another bridge collapsed, another door closed. Anger flared up in me. Was my disappointment justified? After all, these false leads and dead ends had been occurring my whole life, to the point where here I was, Leon Rollins, 20 years old, a college Junior... and a virgin. Three days ago, I'd been sitting in my building's laundry room, waiting on my clothes to finish washing. I was reading a library copy of The Godfather, squinting in confusion over a particular subplot twist that I didn't feel there was a purpose for in a Mafia story. Beside me sat a pretty girl. She had long, slick black hair, and a cute little nose. Other than noticing her attractiveness, I didn't pay her much attention, and we weren't talking. My specialty was waiting for a stranger to talk to me first before I said anything. I was preoccupied with the book. Movement and footsteps caught my attention, and when I looked up, I couldn't help but stare. A gorgeous brunette had walked into the room. I'm not good with numbers, but I knew she was at least a couple inches taller than my 5'7. What struck me more than anything was what she was wearing: practically nothing. She was clad only in a white cotton bathrobe, and its neckline was low enough to expose a teasing hint of voluptuous tit cleavage. Her long, freshly shaved legs were totally bare, ending in a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. The black-haired girl looked up; her face contorted. "Why the hell aren't you dressed?" she protested. I figured these two knew each other. "I ran out of clothes," Bathrobe Girl explained. "Girl, you seriously have procrastination issues," the friend remarked with a half-smile. My eyes followed Bathrobe Girl as she put a basketful of clothes in one of the available washers. I tried dividing my gaze between her body and my book, but it was difficult not to stare. Bathrobe Girl loaded her clothes and approached her friend. "I still have that essay final to write," she said. "Is it okay if I wait with you?" I smelled the scent of Bathrobe Girl's shampoo. Pert Plus. I recognized it as Pert Plus because that's what I used to jerk off with before I noticed it left my dick ashy and irritated. The shampoo scent brought back a flood of old jerk off memories. The friend recoiled from Bathrobe Girl, putting her hands up. "Ugh, no! You're naked! Besides, I gotta do that essay too." Bathrobe Girl groaned; her arms fell to her sides. "Well who's gonna watch my clothes!? If somebody comes in and steals them then I won't have shit to wear." "Shoulda thought of that earlier," the friend chided. Then both girls noticed me. "Hey, um, will you watch my clothes for me?" Bathrobe Girl asked, as she stepped over to me. My eyes locked onto that plunging neckline. Her tits were fairly large and jiggled with each of her movements. If only I could reach out... "He's probably got stuff to do," the friend said. Bathrobe Girl shot her friend an irritated look, and then turned back to me. "I know it'll probably take a lotta your time, but I'll pay you." The offer sounded good; I could always use extra cash. But then another thought crossed my mind. This was an opportunity. Images rushed through my head, and as one might guess, they were images of how Bathrobe Girl looked sans-robe. I wondered about the size, shape, firmness and color of those sweet looking tits. How did Bathrobe Girl keep her pussy groomed? Was it shaved bare? Oldschool jungle? Or did she keep a little landing strip? Did her hair color match what she wore under the robe? And how did that nether hair, if there actually was any, look when she was aroused? How big was her clit? All these questions started giving me a serious boner. I couldn't resist. I went for it. "Alright, I'll watch your clothes. If you... i-if you... s-show me.." I swallowed. "Show me something." "You want to see my boobs?" Bathrobe Girl asked, lightly touching her jutting rack with her right hand. She followed with a quick nod. "Alright, that's fair." "You sure that's alright?" I asked, feeling a bit guilty now. "Oh yeah," she said sincerely, "it's totally fine. Totally. I'll show you everything. I have no shame." "She really doesn't," the friend clarified. I chuckled. "Sounds good!" I gave Bathrobe Girl a light handshake. "Good, good. See you when I get back." With that, Bathrobe Girl and her friend exited, leaving me alone with my clothes, her clothes, and my book. Two hours passed; I spent it reading. Eventually my own clothes finished washing and drying and I put them not-so-neatly in my laundry basket. I waited for Bathrobe Girl's return. Bathrobe Girl did return, but so did everybody else in the building who needed fresh clothes. I looked around, taking in the noise and confusion. Obviously this wasn't the ideal place to close the deal I'd made with Bathrobe Girl. So I asked for her number. She tore off a piece of paper and jotted it down. Now it was Friday night, and my dreams of an intimate tryst with Bathrobe Girl were squandered. The Fall semester was over, and the students were preparing to go home for Christmas break, if they hadn't left already. Others were taking the opportunity to party it up before departing. Matt, one of my roommates, had actually invited me to such a party tonight. Matt was blond, tall, and built like he meant it. Judging by the number of girls who'd cycled through our housing suite during the semester, he was also quite the ladies man. He'd probably sank his dick into more twat than I ever would in my lifetime. I might have learned something from him, if I bothered to ask. The gathering was at a house off-campus. I'd declined Matt's invite, mostly because I was saving room for a meet-up with Bathrobe Girl, but also because of my chronic fear of strangers. Now that my potential plans had been shot in the face and buried, I stewed in the dark. "Ugh, fuck it," I growled. With my legs still on the bed, I leaned over the edge and pulled out a plastic Rubbermaid container from underneath. I blindly fumbled around until I drew out a DVD case. I looked at it. A fresh-faced, naïve, nervous looking, blonde 18-year-old co-ed was in the center of the cover photo, with curious eyes and a finger in her mouth. Her hair was done in schoolgirl pigtails. She was surrounded by either scantily clad or topless women. The title of the DVD was Forbidden Sorority Initiations 3. If I wasn't going to spend an evening with Bathrobe Girl, then at least I could masturbate and imagine what might have happened. My PC was no more than four feet across from my bed in this tiny room. I got up to put Forbidden Sorority Initiations 3 in the computer's DVD drive. My favorite video player always skipped right to the menus, bypassing the FBI warning and 2257 Compliance Statement screens. I started the DVD and laid back. On the screen, a young co-ed (the same nervous looking blonde from the cover) was being given a tour of a sorority house by a sexy looking redhead. The blonde was looking to join the 'Et Mi Pi' sorority. She liked the house. The redhead suddenly revealed that there was an initiation involved in joining. "What kind of initiation?" the naïve co-ed piped happily. "Oh, I'll do anything!" "Really?" the redhead replied with hungry eyes. "Anything?" Another girl, taller, with black hair (worn down, similar to Bathrobe Girl's friend) walked into frame. She was shirtless, with smaller tits than the other two girls. The redhead slipped a hand up the blonde's white blouse. The dark-haired one started planting slow, sensuous kisses on her neck. Typical of these movies, the blonde dropped her inhibitions in a heartbeat and was immediately into the action. I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans and reached into my boxers. I grabbed my stiffening prick. The redhead now had the blonde's miniskirt down and was sloppily licking and sucking her shaved pussy. To my delight, the blonde's clit was pierced. I squeezed my cock a couple of times... then stopped. I looked at the screen, where the blonde was now on the floor, with the redhead tonguing her twat as the blonde helped herself to mouthfuls of the dark-haired girl's small nipples. I froze for a moment. I leaned my head against the backboard and closed my eyes. I took my hand out of my jeans and zipped them up. I got out of bed and clicked out of the porn. "Why the fuck not?" I said out loud to no one. I grabbed my leather jacket, which was lazily thrown over the desk chair. * * * * Looking back, I'm not sure exactly what made me decide to go to the party. Normally my social anxiety would have prevented me from even considering such an idea, but now I was leaving my own room, exiting the four-bedroom suite, walking down the hall toward the lobby, and stepping out into the bitter cold... and I wasn't stopping. Outside, a rare snowfall fluttered about in small amounts. It was chilly as a she-demon's tits and the cold burned my ears something awful. My car was parked close to the front door; Matt had given me directions to the party in case I changed my mind. I started toward my car, but again, decided otherwise. Instead, I started casually walking down the street, running through Matt's directions from memory. It would be a long walk, especially in this weather, but I didn't give a damn. If I got sick later, I had the luxury of two weeks without any classes. The campus streets were empty and quiet. Occasionally a car whizzed by me, going faster than it needed to and throwing an unpleasant breeze my way. But for the most part, the school was abandoned. Jeans, a long-sleeved (thin) polo shirt, shoes and a leather jacket were hardly appropriate attire for such a journey. As I continued following Matt's directions, the cold and falling snow were constant reminders of how stupid and careless I was being. By the time I realized I needed my car for real, it was too late; there was too much distance between me and my cozy little clunker. Water vapor escaped with every exhaled breath of mine; my chest burned. Yep, my family was going to be real happy about the coughing fits I'd be having during Christmas dinner. Eventually, my destination came into view: a two-story brick house surrounded by vehicles. Every window in that ancient place was brightly lit. No one stood in the yard. From outside, I heard muffled bass beats. For the first time since I'd left my room, I questioned what the hell I was doing here. Nevertheless, I put all doubt aside and went inside. I was taken aback by the ginormous crowd standing inside the house, and briefly considered retreating to safety. But it was too late to go back; I'd walked too damn far in too shit weather to change my mind now. Unseen speakers blasted "Gold Digger" by Kanye West, and the music was only slightly louder than the colliding conversations. Almost everyone, of age or otherwise, had a drink in their hand. There were several pretty girls standing around, some of whom I categorized as 'deliciously hot.' But I wouldn't be talking to them. Oh no, not Leon Rollins. At the same time, there were guys broken off into small groups as well; I didn't want to talk to them either. I was here though, and thus resigned to my fate. I looked around. In the large living room I stood in, a large orange drink dispenser sat on a small table. I shrugged, and filled a red plastic cup with what I assumed was a strong mixed drink. I plopped down on a big white sofa, determined to spend enough time at the party to justify the long trip it took to get there—and maybe get hammered while I was at it! I sipped my drink. It was fruity and only slightly bitter, the type of concoction that could knock a person off their ass because of how easy it was on the taste buds. I've never been great at holding my alcohol, and from that one sip my cheeks tingled. Maybe instead of measuring this party' worth by time, I could do it in drinks. If I put away three of this things, I'd leave without feeling too guilty, I decided. I surveyed the room. It was dimly lit by a few lamps, giving the space a somber atmosphere. I watched guys laughing with guys, and other guys hitting on girls. I wondered, with dismay, how life would be if I actually had the ability to talk to and interact with strangers. I raised the plastic cup to my mouth again. "You look kinda lost." A voice—a female voice—had addressed me from out of nowhere. It was so startling that I jumped a little, nearly spilling my drink on my jeans. The voice came from my left, and after exhaling sharply, I looked for its source. Sitting beside me on the couch, like an interdimensional traveler who had just teleported into my reality, was a girl. Again, my numbers are bad, but she was a few inches shorter than me. She had shoulder-length, dirty-blonde hair, and she was armed for winter with an open white puffer coat worn over an off-white thermal shirt. For bottoms she had on jeans and winter boots; her hands were covered with plaid cotton mittens. I was still overcoming my shock at her sudden appearance when my attention was drawn elsewhere: her eyes. They were green, almost teal in color, and there was something about them I couldn't place. Something... intriguing. She'd accented them with carefully applied eyeliner. She was beautiful, and a girl with physical attributes of this caliber was guaranteed to freeze my tongue. But this time it was different. I didn't feel nervous or struck with a lack of confidence. My words came naturally. "Lost? Nah. I was just looking for a change of scenery tonight." The girl smiled and nodded. "I know what you mean. Oh, and I'm Summer. Summer Madison." "Name's Leon Rollins." Again, this ease of words was uncanny. I glanced down. Summer also held a drink, but it wasn't a red cup like everyone else's. It was glass and filled with ice. I'm just as bad with drinks as I am with numbers, but it appeared she was drinking only plain water. "Do you know the people who live here?" I asked. Summer shook her head. "Nope. I hardly know anybody in this crowd... never been here, either. Nah, I mostly stay cooped up. Trying to keep my GPA decent, you know." As she spoke, my eyes scanned her over some more. The shirt beneath her coat was small for her, and from my angle I noticed that it emphasized a pair of tits that were moderately sized but appropriate for her body and height. As with Bathrobe Girl, the mystery of what lay beneath entered my mind. There was a twinge in my boxers. "What are you majoring in?" I asked her. "Anthropology," she replied. "What year are you?" "Sophomore." My eyes returned to those teal irises of hers. This time they evoked a stronger feeling, like I was being drawn in, hypnotized. And that tight shirt really did shape out her tits. After another dirty thought passed, a sillier one crossed my mind. Strange girl appears out of nowhere. Is mysterious and instantly appealing. Makes me feel like I'm falling under a spell. Was Summer a vampire? I did my best to hide my amusement, but I'd seen enough movies and TV shows where circumstances unfolded exactly this way and the story ended with a poor guy discovered by the cops in a dark alley, drained of his blood. I shook off my idiot mindset. "Are you from around here?" Summer shook her head a second time. "Nope. Out of state. This is nowhere near where I'm from... but I was determined to go to college, no matter where it was." Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced at the floor. "See, my family... well, a lot of us get left behind." I could have pressed for further details but this conversation seemed to be darkening Summer's mood. I switched subjects. "Why Anthropology?" She smiled and looked at me again. "Hard to explain. I like learning about people... about how people react to each other in different cultures and societies." Summer leaned her head against the couch. "And yeah, I know not a lot of companies out there are looking for Anthropology majors. But I like to think of college as... something other than a nice thing for a resume. It should be about learning,not just what it can get you after you're done." It made perfect sense. I knew my major probably wouldn't help me much either, but I, too, was a knowledge seeker. Suddenly, I remembered the drink I was still holding. Impulse told me to take another sip, but I looked at Summer, and then back at the cup. I didn't feel like drinking anymore. The need for it had left me as soon as I began talking to Summer. I set the cup down on the floor. "So what are you majoring in?" Summer asked. "English," I said. Summer chuckled. "The study of your primary language, huh?" I laughed a little too. "No, I... I want to be a writer." "Yeah? What kinda stuff do you write?" Those eyes. Damn, what was it about those eyes!? "Mostly genre stuff, for now. I'm into sci-fi/fantasy kinda work. Orcs and lasers and big bastard swords, those things. That kind of stuff my Fiction Workshop professor really looked down on... because literature is better." I emphasized 'literature' with mockery. "That's cool. Why that, though?" Summer was genuinely interested in my words, as far as I knew. But like numbers and drinks, body language wasn't my strongest suit either. "To tell you the truth," I answered, "it's because sometimes I think it's better than reality. Because the real world... when I stop and look around sometimes, I think the real world just... it kinda sucks. So I write about stuff that's not real and couldn't be real, and I escape into it." I flashed a smile. "Sorry to sound like a glass-half-empty type guy." "No, no, I get it," Summer replied. "I see where you're coming from. I know about rough times... darkness. But at the same time... from my experience, the world's what you make of it." "You think so?" I almost said "you sound like my mom" instead, but I didn't want to come off rude. Summer was probably right. I turned over her words in my mind. I know about rough times... darkness. What did she mean? Did she have a rough background? I preferred not to crash land our conversation by being nosy. Summer's Warmth: A Winter Encounter Our eyes reconnected. There was a longing building up in my chest now, a longing to spend time with this girl, bask in her presence, and learn more about her. There was also another longing. The brain in my other head thought about her overall shape and figure, and how soft, radiant and youthful she looked. Summer had fired a tractor beam at me, and it was dragging me in. Maybe that's why her next question didn't faze me at all. "Do you wanna get out of here? Go someplace quieter?" I quickly nodded. "Hold up," Summer said. From behind her she pulled out a white purse, opened it, and pulled out a bunched up toboggan cap, which she fixed over her head. Then she stood and zipped up her coat. She looked down at me and smiled. "Lead the way." I got up and she followed me out of the house. I wasn't worried at all. * * * * Outside, the snow fell a lot harder than before. The drops barely qualified as 'flurries' anymore. Now we were heading into a full-on snowstorm. When we stepped into the snowy grass, Summer stopped and looked around. "Where's your car?" "At my building, back where I left it," I replied. "Is walking a problem?" Summer smiled and shrugged. "A walk in the snow wouldn't hurt anybody." So we walked, with me in front. After turning a few corners and covering some distance, it became clear that we were headed back toward my own building and that neither of us had established where we'd planned to end up. Summer's hands were in her pockets. As we journeyed down the dark, quiet street, she studied the falling snowflakes. "It's really weird that it snowed this year," she remarked. "This part of the country barely ever gets hail. But snow? I'm glad I bundled up." Summer scanned my fragile getup. "You should've bundled up more too, you know. This kind of crappy weather will make you sick if you aren't careful." "Cold doesn't bother me that much," I said. I was lying. The cold was bugging me from the inside out. Yet at the same time, walking close to Summer was somehow warming me up. I was freezing, and yet it was if a small candle was on the inside, making the temperature easier to withstand. I thought about the name 'Summer.' It seemed to fit her. The wind howled a little, but otherwise the night was silent. On my way to the party a few cars had passed me. This time there wasn't a single vehicle the entire way back to the building. It was as if Summer and I were the only two people left on the planet. For the rest of our walk, our conversation halted. Summer never questioned where we were headed, and neither did I. Eventually, after a lifetime of trekking through a quiet winter dimension, my building came into view. Behind me, Summer stopped walking. "Leon..." I stopped as well, and we faced each other. "...I really hope you find what you're looking for." I examined Summer's face. She was smiling, but it was only a half-smile. I didn't know the exact meaning of her words, and upon reflection, I still don't. I took it as a friendly gesture. I smiled politely but said nothing in response. We walked toward the building. When we stepped over the threshold between the street and the parking lot, my heart started thumping in my chest, hard enough that I felt it. My blood stirred. Something was going to happen tonight; I just didn't know what. But I never questioned anything. Not when I used my keycard to enter the building. Not when I walked past the unoccupied front desk and opened the hallway door. Not when we entered the suite. And not when I was unlocking my own bedroom door. Summer never questioned anything either. She simply followed me inside my room. I flipped the lights on, and shut the door. * * * * Summer immediately spotted the porn DVD case on my desk. In my rush to go to the party, I'd completely forgotten to do anything with it. At first I didn't see the incriminating evidence. But when Summer chuckled and remarked, "nice porno," my eyes went wide and I sprang into action to get rid of the damn thing. "T-this is..." Shit, shit, shit! What could possibly be more embarrassing!? I snatched up the case, and my eyes darted left and right, searching desperately for a place to hide it. "...This isn't what it looks like," I said quickly. What the hell did that even mean? But if I was bewildered before, nothing prepared me for what happened next. "Let's watch it," Summer suggested. I whirled around and looked at her. No way. She couldn't be serious. But she was smiling. "Go on, put it in!" she chuckled. "I wanna see." My face froze in a puzzled gaze, until Satan crept up behind me, patted me on the left shoulder and whispered in my ear: "Do not protest this. This is your moment. Make me proud, boy." The metaphorical Prince of Darkness disappeared in a puff of not-really smoke, and suddenly I was double-clicking the icon to launch the video software. When the window popped up, the DVD picked up where it had left off, with the blonde sucking the small pair of tits while her pussy was devoured. I sat down on the bed, tense, getting steadily more aroused. Summer removed her coat, hat and mittens, tossing them in an uneven pile on the chair. Over the moans coming from my computer's speakers, I noticed how striking Summer's body was with less clothing. Her tits were fully accented through the tight shirt, and her dirty-blonde hair, disheveled from being stuffed in the cap, made her even more desirable. I took the whole situation into account. An attractive young woman was willingly in my bedroom. She had proposed watching a porn movie with me. My bedroom was very small, and we couldn't move much without being close. Yes. Indeed. There was a good chance that I would lose my virginity soon. I looked back at the screen. Now the blonde, completely nude, was straddling the redhead's face while the black haired one licked the blonde. The cries of pleasure were fierce, loud, and probably exaggerated. I realized this was a lesbian threesome, and that Summer wasn't fazed. Her arms were folded as she stood, watching the scene. "Does this..." I swallowed, losing my words. "A-are you... into this kind of thing, S-Summer?" "You mean do I like lesbian stuff?" Summer asked. "Well, not really. I don't really like the taste of vagina." Whoa. Did that mean... Summer approached the bed. I scooted back, allowing her to lie down with her back facing me. I wondered if putting my arm around her would be appropriate. Ultimately I chose not to try. I was completely aroused now. My cock was engorged and lengthened to its full six inches. Summer's jean-covered ass pressed against it. Nothing on Earth could have moved me from that spot in that moment. I watched the porn scene as it progressed from pussy eating to vibrators and twat-grinding. But my focus was divided between the porn and Summer. She watched it with no emotion, no observation, no movement. She wasn't visibly excited itself, neither writhing around or touching herself. Eventually the scene ended and scene two began, with barely any story bridging both together. This scenario took place at a frat party. A set of three new girls knelt on the floor and were immediately surrounded by a forest of cocks, varied in color and shape but all stone-hard, and all bigger than mine. The three girls started sucking, licking, and woofing down the cocks as the guys attached to them moaned and begged for more. The left and middle girls were being creative and making art out of their blowjobs, while the one on the right settled for being still and having her throat fucked when cocks were crammed in her mouth. "Gluck, gluck, gluck," she went. Summer stretched. "I'm kinda bored now," she said. "Got anything else to watch?" Through the speakers, a grizzled, low-pitched man's voice groaned "Ugggh yeah, suuuck it, juuust like that. Yeees!" Summer's question confused me. "You mean like... more porn?" "No, I meant like a movie. A movie movie." I chuckled. "I absorb movies in here. Hang on." Summer stood up to allow me by. I flipped the light on and took Forbidden Sorority Initiations 3 out of the DVD drive, putting it safely back into its case. Then I went digging through my treasure trove of movies. They were piled up in one of my desk drawers, with no organization whatsoever. I called them out as I shuffled through them, Summer standing beside me. "Okay, I got... let's see... Die Hard. The Goonies. The Princess Bride. Um, Dirty Harry. Sunset Boulevard. The Director's Cut of Donnie Darko..." "I haven't seen that one," Summer interjected. "I've seen the original, but not that one." "Wanna watch this then?" "Sure." I put the DVD in the drive, and we got back into the same position as before. My hard-on had since deflated, but with Summer's smooth ass pressed against me again, it quickly returned. The movie began. For the first twenty or so minutes, we watched in silence, though my desire was anything but quiet. "Could you rub my back?" Summer asked. I examined my hands, wondering how a massage parlor would grade a green guy like me. I reached out, slowly, and gently began kneading Summer's back, beneath her shoulder blades. She shifted a bit and let out a faint noise. Taking that as encouragement, I kept going. A wave of pleasure passed through me. My dick throbbed in my pants. "Go a little lower," Summer moaned. She lifted her shirt halfway, exposing a sexy black bra strap for my viewing pleasure. I continued rubbing her back. By now my cheeks were burning hot, far warmer than when I'd sipped the drink earlier. My heart thumped. I desperately tried to mask my excitement by taking in shorter breaths. The movie reached its halfway mark. I'd be kneading and massaging Summer's pillow-soft skin the entire time, and my hands weren't tired. "Hold on," Summer said. I stopped my massage. She reached behind her, grabbed her shirt from the bottom, and pulled upward. She lifted her body. I'm surprised I didn't cum and pass out right there. Summer stripped off her shirt and tossed it away. Now her whole back was exposed to me, and she was clad in nothing but her black bra, jeans, and boots. I stifled an "oh my God' as my head lightened. I was running short of breath. There was no way she wouldn't notice I was stiff and worked up. My hands trembled. My face felt like it was next to a fire. "Keep going," Summer insisted. I went back to work, trying to do as good a job as before under these new circumstances. A tiny spot on my boxers dampened from pre-cum. Summer's back was like warm dough under my fingers—it was the softest thing I'd ever touched. The movie neared its end. Frank had just run over Gretchen and Donnie was about to shoot him. I had been massaging Summer for over two hours now. I wanted to test my boundaries a bit, see where I'd get. I reached over Summer's side and groped a tit. She tensed and squirmed. "That tickles!" I immediately withdrew my hand, cursing and hating myself for getting fresh despite being lit up like a forest fire. In my head, I replayed the scene from Spaceballs where Lone Starr smacked Barf for sticking his tail up the waitress's skirt. The movie ended. Summer slowly got up and clicked the closing credits off. I ground my teeth. Summer got back in bed with me. We had only the glow of the Windows desktop as a light source. "So how did you like the movie?" I asked. "Eh." Summer did a 'so-so' hand gesture. "I kinda like the original one more." "Me too," I agreed. "Honestly, the Director's Cut ruined it for me." "Because it was better when it was left to interpretation," Summer said. I smiled. "You read my mind." "A lot of it still doesn't make sense though," Summer added. "A lot." Another period of silence passed. When our voices died down, the only sounds in the room were the snow hitting my window harder, and my computer's cooling fans humming their soft tune. Then an amused Summer observed, "You have a boner." I was embarrassed, but after everything—the porno, the two hour back rub, and Summer's bare skin yielding beneath my hands—could she blame me? "You... uh... n-noticed?" "Duh, I'm a girl!" Summer exclaimed. "I guess you are," was all I could think to say. Summer rubbed her ass, up and down, against my hard-on. A surge of pleasure shot through me, radiating outward from my dick and hitting all my nerves. Summer kept up this maddening dry-humping for a minute or so before she quit. It left me stupefied. "Leon, I gotta ask... are you a virgin?" Why lie? I cleared my throat. "I... yeah. Yeah, I am still." "And do I really turn you on that much?" How much of this hard-on did she feel, I wondered? Regardless, my mind was on vacation and had brought along my ability to form coherent responses. "You're beautiful," was all I could say. Summer rolled over and faced me. Our eyes met, and her gaze drew me in once more. She briefly tousled my hair. "What does this mean to you?" Summer asked. Rhetorical question? I wasn't sure. My voice was on the blink. Instead of speaking, I moved forward, and my lips met Summer's. It wasn't my first kiss, but I hadn't kissed anyone for a long time. I was rigid. I tried to relax like I'd read in how-to guides. Summer kissed me back, slowly and tenderly; I tried matching my rhythm with hers, going easy on the sloppiness despite how eager I was to embrace pure pleasure. Our mouths opened and consumed each other. My tongue penetrated her lips, searching out her own tongue; I wriggled it around, not sure what I was doing but loving it all the same. Summer broke away and put two fingers to my mouth. "Less tongue," she instructed. I tried following her guidelines. I kissed her again, this time holding my tongue back. Our mouths collided, enraptured, hungry as vicious animals. Summer gently put her own tongue in my mouth and I massaged it with my own. She moaned. Our mouths and tongues kept up their increasingly passionate game as I moved a hand down and groped a black bra cup, caressing the soft tit flesh. Then I slid my hand underneath. For the first time in my life, my digits came in contact with a live female nipple. The areola felt big and puffy. I kept my hand on that left tit, rolling it around in my fingers as we kissed. Meanwhile my free hand began drifting lower, toward Summer's crotch. Summer lightly touched my chest, stopping me again. "One step at a time," she said. "Don't rush." My wandering hand returned home, and we picked up our kissing. This time I gave both of Summer's tits my full attention. I massaged her wonderful orbs through the mesh bra, feeling the fabric against my palms before I dove underneath again to caress naked skin. She writhed, and moaned against my mouth. She broke away for a beat to catch her escaped breath, and we resumed. A few minutes passed by; eventually I put a hand behind her neck, while my other hand journeyed where it failed to go before. This time I wasn't stopped. With some fumbling I unsnapped Summer's jeans and gently unzipped her. Summer ceased our kiss to lift her legs. She removed her winter boots and slid her jeans completely off. Now my goddess, my carnal angel from heaven, was in nothing but a bra, pink cotton panties, and socks. The brain in my little head tried to process the amazing sight lying before me: a gorgeous young woman, one bra strap lowered, with the cutest belly button and the smoothest, most flawlessly shaved legs I'd ever seen. My fingers touched the front of her panties. With her own hand she guided me to her clothed slit. I pressed down, and she uttered a pleasured groan. The appropriate spot found, I ran my fingers in little circles. Beneath my fingertips, the pleasure zone dampened, soaking pussy juice through her panties. I slid a hand in from the side. I landed on bare, moistened pussy lips underneath. "It's shaved," Summer cooed. I rubbed Summer's stimulated mound as we kissed. Our mouths heated up their activity to scorching degrees, and I no longer cared about the lousy job I was probably doing. My only want, my only need and desire in the world was to breathe Summer in, devour her, please her. I pushed a finger inside Summer's pussy; she moaned loudly and hissed. I slowly probed through the slick passageway, going back and forth with my finger-fucking. She unsnapped my jeans. I slid them down to my knees. Summer invaded my boxers with a hot, soft, gentle hand. Her digits closed around my shaft and squeezed. Now everything was a two-person orgy of wild kissing, fingering, and stroking. I left Summer's mouth to suck hard on her neck. "Wait! Wait," she exclaimed, halting all proceedings. My finger stopped its movement but remained in place. Likewise, Summer stopped stroking my dick but her hand still gripped it tightly. The snow came down in torrents now, shaking the window like a hurricane was parading through. My computer was on its screen-saver, casting colors on the both of us. The room was much darker now. "What's wrong?" I asked. Summer smirked. "Don't you think you need a condom?" I climbed out of bed; Summer got up to let me by. My jeans dropped to my ankles and I nearly stumbled head-first into my computer desk. There was indeed was a condom somewhere in my top center drawer. It had been there since the semester started—just in case—but I never entertained the thought of needing it. Unfortunately, the condom shared space with lots of junk, and I realized it wasn't as readily available as I'd hoped. The darkness didn't help; I shuffled through odds and ends as I searched. My hard-on was steadfast and faithful; even though there had been a lapse in our foreplay, I remained fully engorged. Summer got behind me. She held her cell phone out in front of her, using it as a flashlight. I cursed and fumed and finally located the red wrapper. I tore it open when got back in bed. I examined the folded rubber in my hand, confused. Never had I actually needed to put a condom on, nor had I practiced alone. The darkness was persistently a problem. "Um..." I wanted to kick my own ass. I sighed. "Um... Summer... c-could you... could you help me?" Summer snickered. "Here." She took the condom from me and carefully applied it to my dick, rolling it down over the length of my shaft. She pinched out the reservoir pouch. Summer lay down on my unmade covers. Her hair fanned out on the pillow in a way that almost looked staged, fixed for artwork. Her green eyes stole away all willpower as I slid her panties off and she lifted her legs to assist me. I got on top of her; she adjusted. With her hand she guided my dick toward her entrance. She released my shaft. "Here. Go," she beckoned. I pressed down and slid into her. I felt her lips part. Warm, slippery muscles enveloped my cock. As Summer's inner walls hugged my shaft, I knew that if any rewarded afterlife actually existed, it was nothing compared to this. I had been awkward during every step prior to this, but now my instincts took over. I slowly slid back and forth inside of Summer, as I looked down at a face contorted in pleasure. "Harder," Summer quickly whispered. "Deeper." I thrust forward, further down Summer's tight hole. I drove myself deep inside of her and increased my pace. She responded in total ecstasy; her breathing hastened. I reached behind her, trying to undo the clasp of her bra. Not surprisingly, I had trouble with this. As I continued pounding Summer's lubricated folds, she made swift work of removing the bra and throwing it away. Summer's Warmth: A Winter Encounter I examined perfectly symmetrical, delicious, nubile titties. Summer's areolas were pink, large and puffy, and a pointed nipple sat atop each of them. The skin was paler in comparison to the rest of her body, which made her areolas stand out. I took an aroused tit in my mouth, licking and sucking it. Summer's twat gripped and massaged my dick as I alternated between her nipples, coating them with my saliva. I continued driving my cock into her, rough, to the hilt; Summer's reactions encouraged me. "Let me... get on... top," Summer exclaimed through short breaths. I moved off of her, feeling extra stimulation when my dick pulled free. I got on my back and scooted up on the small bed. I took my shoes off and completely removed my jeans. Summer straddled me, her legs splayed wide. She held my cock and positioned it back into her. The sensation of returning to her pussy was incredible; a few moments of absence was enough time for me to practically beg for it back. Summer sank down to the hilt of my cock slowly moved up and down. As her pussy squeezed me in a tight vice, she shifted between riding my shaft and grinding our crotches together. Her movements made her beautiful tits jiggle in the limited light. I grabbed and played with them. "Come on... help me out," Summer gasped. As she rode and ground on my cock, I thrust upward in time with her movements, providing us both with more stimulation. Her pussy was soaking wet. Her juices flooded my balls and matted my pubes. The air filled with her sex fumes. The smell intoxicated me. It increased my craving for her body. Summer leaned forward as she rode, and I made out with her nipples again. We were both covered in sweat now, breathing heavily. "Fuck me," she uttered through clenched teeth. "That's right. Come on. Fucking fuck me! Fucking give me that fucking cock! Tear my pussy apart!" This sudden vulgarity turned me on even more. I violently fucked Summer with all the energy I could summon. "Fucking shove that cock up in me! Give it to me! Do it! Oh my God... oh... oh my... f-fucking..." A spell overtook her. Her eyes squeezed shut and her whole body tensed as a short moan escaped her mouth. She stopped riding and grinding, consumed by what was surely a mind-shattering orgasm. Her hair was a royal mess that stuck to her sweat-soaked face. I stopped my own thrusting, leaving my cock in place. Summer spent a few moments finding her breath before riding me again. Her pace was slow at first, but it gradually built back up to the wild speed from before. Following her lead, I also picked up where I left off, my dick slamming into her as she dropped down on it. "Does that feel good?" she asked in a husky voice, grinding, bouncing. I was too lost in pure lust to respond. She nodded. "Yeah. it does, doesn't it? You like me popping your fucking cherry, don't you? You like... giving it up... like this... tight... wet... f-fucking... p-pussy. But y-you know.. what would feel... even... b-better... Leon?" I couldn't think of anything in the known world that felt better than this. Summer dismounted. Faster than I processed, she grabbed the condom from the bottom and yanked it off me, throwing it out in the dark. For a moment, a sliver of rationality returned to me. Was going bareback a good idea? I barely knew this girl, knew next to nothing of her sexual history, or whether she even was on the pill. The brain in my big head warned me about possible consequences. Summer crawled to the bed's rear on all fours, her swollen, puffed up pussy lips beckoning me forward in the shifting monitor lights. A tiny, puckered pink asshole was also shamelessly on display. And any worry of mine about ramifications went right through the fucking window and out into the snowstorm, as I stared at that aroused opening and hot mess of sloppy pussy juices. I positioned myself behind Summer, wary of my balance at first. Once more, she guided my cock into place, and we were one again. Without the condom on, the sensation was quite different. Summer's tight canal was much warmer and wetter. My dick became a lot more sensitive. I understood at once why guys didn't like wearing protection. "Come on, fuck me good and hard like you've been," Summer begged. I had to go slow and adjust to this before picking up the pace. My cock was being milked for its cum now, and I didn't want to risk either blowing a load inside Summer or putting an end to this before I was ready. I wanted us to go on for hours. I wanted us to go on forever. How long had we been fucking, anyway? How much time had passed? As I gradually picked up speed and applied more force to my thrusts, I noticed the hallway light spilling underneath the door. I heard my roommate—either Matt or one of the other two—shuffling around outside. As my confidence in my stamina increased, so did my fucking, and soon Summer was moaning and crying out again. If I could pull it off before my own inevitable climax, I wanted Summer to cum at least one more time. My orgasm was threatening to erupt, however; it was starting to build. My strokes made smacking noises; my balls slapped Summer's gorgeous ass. My entire world had been narrowed down to a cock in a tight pussy. Summer moved off me again. She got on her side, her back toward the wall, facing me. This time I managed to find her hole with no assistance. I continued fucking her in that position, hitting hard. She was slower this time, her energy depleting. As for me, the familiar vibrations of an approaching climax rang: I was definitely going to cum soon. Summer sensed this. She broke our union to lower her head between my legs as I returned to my back. She grabbed hold of my cock and shoved it in her mouth. Through those changing lights, I saw what I perceived to be a dirty-blonde sex goddess stroking, sucking, and licking my throbbing prick. Summer spit a glob of saliva on it and went to intense work, moving between artistic oral sex to jerking me off and then back again. The sensations had me beside myself, absolutely away from this reality. This was pleasure in its purest form, unadulterated, unfiltered. My orgasm built and threatened to erupt, retreated, built and threatened to erupt. Rinse, repeat. I knew when it finally arrived it was going to be tremendous, knocking the climax from the first time I'd ever masturbated out of time and space. And then it happened: the most intense, incredible, insane orgasm I'd ever experienced. I had expected nothing remotely close to it. It hit me with fury, slamming into my pleasure centers with such severity that I was afraid of what it was doing to me, that I might actually die. To stay grounded I gripped my sheets tightly in both fists. God knows what would have happened to me if I hadn't. Summer didn't move. My cock pulsated, pumping hot cum into her mouth. She clamped her mouth down on my shaft to the halfway point as I continued unloading. My dick remained rooted in her mouth until the floodgates closed. My head spun; the world went out of focus. I struggled to catch my breath, dazed. Summer dropped my cock from her mouth and moved up my body, closer to my face. Drenched in sweat, her hair a hellish mess, and her eyes narrowed, Summer opened her mouth to show me a load of milky cum pooled in there, and the sight almost brought me to another climax. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed the entire load down in one gulp. She smiled. "You were pretty backed up, huh Leon?" she whispered, rubbing my chest. I smiled back. No denying that! Summer rested her head on my shoulder and put her arms around my neck. Her naked, spent body pressed against me. "So, curiosity's got me," Summer said. "Were you really a virgin? You lasted a damn long time if I was your first." I chuckled. "The only way I wouldn't have been a virgin was with amnesia. No. You really were my first... everything." Summer closed her eyes. "And now you'll spend your first Christmas as a man." I stroked Summer's messy, sweaty hair until she drifted off to sleep. As for me, sleep was out of the question. My mind was so preoccupied with what happened that I had a restless night. I tossed and turned as a million-and-twelve thoughts kept me wide awake. By contrast, Summer was dead to the world. I'm shocked that all my anxious moving about didn't keep her up, unless she was pretending. Finally, a couple hours before dawn broke, sleep took me over. * * * * When I woke up, daylight was flooding the tiny bedroom. I struggled to open my eyes, to move at all. Eventually I mustered the energy to roll over. Summer wasn't there. I expected to make contact with a nude female, the same one who'd been sleeping beside me when I drifted off. But there was only empty space. I sat up. I was still in a state of almost complete undress. That enticing pussy smell remained faintly in the air. All signs said that what happened hadn't been a lucid dream. I looked around my bedroom. Summer's clothes—her underwear, her shirt, her coat, her hat, her boots, her mittens—were gone as well. "Summer?" I said faintly, knowing that wherever she was, she didn't hear me. I got out of bed. My window was completely fogged up; it was impossible to see outside. When I turned and looked back at the bed, the place where only hours before I'd had sex for the first time ever, I saw that the sheets were so out of whack that even the mattress pad was tangled in the disjointed clusterfuck. I looked for a note. The room was small enough that there weren't many places one could be. It only took a minute of surveying my surroundings to realize that there was no note, no anything. However, I did find one final piece of evidence: the condom Summer had pulled off me before we fucked bareback. The yellow thing was bunched up in the corner, totally useless now, having served its mission. Summer and I had never exchanged phone numbers. She'd never told me what building she lived in. I shook my head, contemplating where a person who acted so friendly and affectionate, who'd been willing to share such an intimate moment with me, could have gone on such short notice. I threw on some fresh clothes; I could cram the dirty stuff in a bag and have mom generously wash it all when I went home for Christmas break. As I pulled a new shirt on over my jeans, I heard a sizzling noise outside. Was Summer in the kitchen, making us breakfast? I opened the door and walked to the living area. Matt stood over the stove, shirtless and in pajama bottoms, frying an egg. It looked like he was struggling to keep his stomach contents down. He must've had a great time at that party. "What's up," he greeted weakly. I cut right to the point. "Matt, did you see a girl around here a while ago?" I rephrased the question in more specific terms. "A girl... who came out of my room?" Matt coughed. "Nah, man. I didn't see anybody... nobody... no girl, walked through here, far as I know." After a sniff, he looked at me and grinned slyly. "Congratulations, though! Right before Christmas vacation, too. Damn, son." I smiled too, but without much truth behind it. "Yeah... yeah, I guess so." "You know..." Matt cleared his throat. "I got a few girls I know. Might be in the market for some more action if you're interested. You're a nice guy. They like nice guys." "I'll think about it," I said. I headed for the hallway door. "Going out like that?" Matt asked. "Dunno if you knew already but it's damn cold outside right now. Like a whole different world." I took Matt's advice and went back to my room, where I suited up for winter before going outside. The parking lot was completely blanketed with snow, a couple inches thick, at least. A fog surrounded everything, so intense that it was impossible to see further than a few feet in any direction. The entire campus now had a dream-like surreality to it. I packed up and left for home shortly thereafter. * * * * I spent the next two weeks on a well-deserved Christmas break. It was the same routine as always: a few days of rest and relaxation before Christmas Eve dinner at Grandma's, followed by presents on Christmas morning and another dinner that my immediate family hosted. With new additions to the Rollins clan joining like rabbits, the kids almost outnumbered the adults now. I realized I had enough little cousins to create a small army. I put on a cheerful smile and was as polite as possible to everybody. Cousin/Uncle Lee entertained the children, but only played Santa to the nieces and nephews he had. I walked away from December 25th with some cool loot that would come in handy over the next year. Midnight December 31st, We all sat around my dad's new big screen TV to ring in 2007. But beneath it all, behind the jolly Christmas front I put up, all I dwelt on was Summer, and our one night of wild passion. I mentioned her to no one, correctly assuming I'd be asked too many questions. If she wasn't occupying my thoughts, she haunted my dreams every single night. One morning, a few days before I was due back on campus, I woke up from another Summer-filled dream, one as vivid and lucid as the night I'd made love. That was when I realized she had vanished with more than my virginity—she also took my heart. * * * * A month of the Spring semester passed by, with no sign whatsoever of Summer Madison. I opted to do the decent thing and not ask anyone about her. I also avoided conducting any suspicious Internet searches. I feared that research of any kind would venture well into stalker territory, and I didn't want to be that type of creep. But one afternoon, temptation arrived at my door in the form of the Spring edition student directory. I reminded myself that I didn't need to start some desperate search. But the more I stared at that cover, the harder and harder it was to resist, until finally, I couldn't take it. I flipped to the M section. Last names came first. 'Madison' would be at the top of that list. I ran my finger down the page. There was no 'Madison, Summer' listed in the book. So either 'Summer Madison' lived off-campus... or 'Summer Madison' didn't attend this school. I gently closed the book, defeated, and set it down on the table. Then it struck me all at once. I would never see Summer again. Why or how I can't explain, but my heart told me the only places we'd ever run into each other were my memories and on-going dreams. It was over. She was gone for good. A tear ran down my cheek.