Freshman's First BBC Ch. 04

North-east America, or New England as some folks call it is very nice, the colonial houses, the fall colours, the friendly people, but after a month there I was craving much more. I wanted to experience the flesh, and sweat that New England had to offer.

I remembered Chelsea, the young college freshman I met back in the fall, and the fun I had with her. I had sex with her... at least four times, and twice after I pumped her full of sperm, her boyfriend unknowingly ate her out!

Armed with a first name, and knowledge of where she went to school, I started a very creepy search for her on social media. To those who question the morality of my actions, I ask you if you have not done the same?

I did find her very quickly, and sent a message; I figured a friend request might tip off her boyfriend back home. She replied back happily, and we renewed our friendship. It wasn't very sexual; mostly we'd talk via video chat about politics, her classes, and world news.

Sometimes she would talk over her phone, other times with her computer, but always she would have someone in the room with her. I first noticed the blur of red hair as her mysterious friend walked by, and later the two would exchange quick whispers.

Initially I accepted this, her friend a silent voyeur to our discussions, but two things were wrong with this first I have a weakness for redheads, and second, Chelsea had never refused me before, perhaps this could be turned into an opportunity?

"Chelsea." I said one day while we video chatted. "Who is that behind you?"

"Oh, no one..." She said innocently. "Tell me again why Hilary would ruin America?"

I could see the red hair move slightly in the background, she must have heard me asking about her.

"She wants to offer social services without improving the quality of jobs in America, who will pay for it all? The rich? Ha! But forget about that; you're dodging MY question." I said.

Chelsea rolled her eyes.

"Where I come from, it's very rude not to introduce your friends." I said to her politely.

"And where is it that you're from..." She replied with a sly grin.

I began to stammer out a reply when her friend appeared on screen. She had a big shy smile, a retroussé nose, and the whitest skin I had seen outside of Ireland. Her rusty coloured hair was a tangled mess partially tamed by a green scrunchie.

"Hi!" She said, vigorously waving her hand.

"Hello." I said back. "What's your name?"

"I'm Britney!" She replied excited. "But everyone calls me Ginger!"

"I'm pleased to meet you Brit... I mean Ginger. I wonder why they call you that?" I asked.

"Ha ha ha, it's my red hair!" She said back to me.

"Do the curtains match the..." I started to say.

"None of your business!" Ginger replied to me loudly.

"Maybe I should make it my business." I said in a serious voice.

She blushed heavily, and all of us laughed very hard. Chelsea came back, and pushed her friend out of the way.

"Chelsea, let me take you out for dinner? We're old pals, and I like winning arguments with you." I said in a playful way.

"I dunno..." Chelsea said.

"You can bring Ginger." I suggested.

"Sure!" a voice declared from behind her.

"No!" Chelsea said firmly.

"My treat." I said trying to sweeten the deal.

"We'll maybe." She replied weakly. "I gotta go, my boyfriend wants to video chat."

"Talk to you later." I said to a blank screen.

I sat confused in my hotel room; I was only an hour away from her all-girl Christian college. An hour later my phone lit up with a message from Chelsea, it read. 'I don't want Ginger to know. Can you come this weekend, early in the morning?'

I replied yes, and instead of dinner, I got to have her all to myself.

The week flew by quickly; I spent my free time in my hotel's gym, running off my excitement, one marathon at a time. I also bought a sack of celery, and ate it religiously, over the years; I found it increased my sperm loads, something I'd need for our day together.

The night before, I slept poorly; I was too excited about our day together. I also hadn't had sex in a couple of weeks, and was almost shaking with desire!

Chelsea had given me some tips on slipping into her school. She had put my name on the list of approved visitors even before I found her, but she recommended that I wear a suit, and carry a briefcase so I looked important.

The school was a vast complex, and looked to have dated from when the Dutch ruled that part of the country. The walls, arches, and buildings all reminded me of Rotterdam where I lived in my 20's, and warmed my heart on that cold day.

The school was empty, but it was six am on a Saturday. I pulled into the parking lot near the dorm, and walked towards the building bearing a large steaming double double in one hand, and leather briefcase in the other.

The school security was making its morning rounds, spotted me, and drew close. This was America after all; my coffee coloured skin was more than enough to earn their attention.

Today seemed to be my lucky day, they were either too tired, or uninterested. We exchanged a few words, and then they were on their way. I supposed my 'costume' did work?

I silently entered the dorm, found Chelsea's room quickly, and after a short knock, she was at the door pulling me in quickly.

"Did anyone see you?" She asked.

"Just security." I replied.

"No, did Ginger see you?" She demanded.

"I don't think so, why does it matter?" I responded.

"Ginger may not be from my town," She started to say, "but she sits in on all my calls, and I don't want her to find out that I had you here!"

"I shall do my best to be discrete madam." I said as I bowed.

Chelsea laughed, and I pulled her close into an embrace with me. She still felt hesitant and unsure in my arms.

"Is something the matter?" I asked, pausing from my shower of kisses.

I felt dumb saying those words, if she were getting cold feet, it would mean a long drive with an aching erection for me.

"It's Ginger." She said softly. "She has a huge crush on you."

"She's not a country-bankrupting liberal like you is she?" I asked with a smirk on my face.

"You're so silly!" She said as she tried to slap me.

I hugged her harder, pinning her arms to her side as started kissing her face again.

"Let me..." She said loudly, and then switched to a quieter tone. "Let me go!"

"You're my prisoner now!" I declared in a loud whisper. "Maybe I'll tie you up, and Ginger too, and start my own Christian College harem!"

"Not with me!" She said struggling under my barrage of kisses.

"It'll be a new first for you!" I said, "An interracial threesome! What do you say?"

She stopped suddenly, and looked at me seriously. "I doubt she'd go for that? Besides, she's not here this weekend."

"There's always the next time..." I thought to myself.

Chelsea and I commenced kissing, and exploring each other's bodies; I switched from her lips to her neck, and I could hear her purring. She laid a hand on the outside of my pants, squeezing my trouser snake, and I too let out a moan.

I found myself overwhelmed with my animal passions, and before I knew it we were on the bed naked, and kissing.

I had my face buried between her breasts, with my hands pushing them together to make a sandwich. She wriggled below me, repeating herself over and over, but I was not paying attention.

"Let me get a towel under me!" She said, "I don't want to soak the bed!"

"Oh yeah." I said, hitting myself in the head with a hand.

I helped her unlock her inner beast the last time we were together, and now she was a lean, mean, squirting machine. I wanted to insert my man-snake into her, and cum as fast as possible. I'm always too anxious during the first round, and wanted to get it over with as fast as possible.

I climbed off her, and when she was set herself under a towel, I mounted her again, but this time on her chest.

"This is what I like to call a tittyfuck." I said as I lined my black mamba up between her breasts.

"Don't cum on me, I want to have sex." She said as she pressed her breasts together to wrap around me.

I pumped away with glee, her boob sweat acted as a lubricant, and in moments I had to take a deep breath and think about a new position.

"Missionary please." She said under me, trying to look me in the eye.

"Sex isn't the time to conversate my dear." I said, as I climbed down her to end up between her legs, and lifting them up.

"Oh, what if..." She tried to ask, but I shushed her with a finger to her lips.

I placed the head of my snake on her moistened, shaved entrance and slowly pushed. She let out a primal moan as I plunged deeper and deeper.

She was very tight, but also very wet, usually I would dip insert, and withdraw, until I was fully in, but this time, I raced towards the finish line!

Once I felt my testicles touch her I halted my drive into her and stopped. She shook her ass trying to kick start me, but I wouldn't budge, fore I had other plans.

While one hand held her leg, the other I brought forward, and placed a thumb on her clitoris, and rotated slowly. Again she humped forward with her hips, but I stood my ground, and continued to trace figure eights.

"Unnnnhhh!" She cried, and she was suddenly much wetter.

"Oh yes!" I said, and started pumping away again.

Thrusting in and out, I continued to rub her clitoris, bringing her to yet another wet orgasm, and then another. Her towel was getting quite the work out that morning.

I have seen the different ways women squirt, some shoot a small spray, others produce a various amounts of fluid that gush out. Chelsea was a gusher, and at the rate she was producing water, she would soon need to take a break.

Despite her wetness, I found her to be incredible tight, and I started to feel the first pangs of impeding doom. It was time to change positions to buy more time before I exploded.

I encouraged her to go on all fours, and laid a very loud slap upon her ass cheek.

"You can't do that!" She hissed. "Someone will call security, and I'll get into trouble!"

The red hand print on her slowly faded, as I set myself up behind her.

"Ok." I said, "I'll try to keep it quiet."

In moments I was inside her and with my hands on her hips, I was pounding away. The grunts of us making love, and breathing heavily, filled the room.

Taking a short break, I placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating that I wanted her propped higher. Once I had her set up, I reached forward with my hands, parted her hair from behind, giving her a make-shift set of pig-tails, and grasped each tail in a hand.

"Ow!" She squealed in mock pain. I could tell she was loving it.

I then started pounding away again, feeling very much like a biker riding his sexy Harley. Our mutual gasps and moans took the place of a purring engine.

Frequent position changes are my secret to longevity in the bedroom, too long in one position, and I'll find myself on the edge of orgasm. Several minutes of hard pounding and I found myself standing at the precipice.

I suddenly stopped, and withdrew my aching erection, it dripped with her juices.

"Aw!" She said.

I didn't reply, but instead reached forwarded, grabbed her ankles, and pulled.

"Oh!" She cried out as she landed on her stomach startled and surprised.

I moved up, still on my knees, and holding her ankles, pushed myself back inside her soaking wet pussy.

"We call this the wheel barrow." I said between thrusts.

This may have been her favourite position, because I had to stop often to let out the next gush of her orgasmic waters.

I let out a soft chuckle, as I imagined myself as a farmer driving my precious fruits and vegetables to market. She however was more beautiful than any apple, and more precious than any tomato, and the market we sought was a mutual orgasm.

"What... are.. you... laughing... at..." She stammered out as I rammed her from behind.

I ignored her question; I was beyond speech, and nearing release. It was time to switch gears one last time; I pulled on her legs flattening her out completely, and laid on top of her. Taking my hands, I brought them under her, each seeking out a breast, my fingers each finding a nipple to pinch.

She moaned an approval at our new position, and I started humping and pumping towards my finale.

If someone were to peek through a window, they would see my ass going up and down in a unique rhythm known only to Chelsea and I. The sweat on my back would be visible, as it glistened in the morning light. They wouldn't see the towel under her, but based on her moans, it had to be soaked.

The contrasts of our skins would be a pleasant sight, she a pale white, with no tan lines, and I a cinnamon brown. Like an interracial yin, and yang, we were deeply intertwined.

As a breast obsessed boobman, I was in titty heaven! My breathing became ragged and uneven as I neared the finish line.

I wasn't wearing a condom, Chelsea didn't ask for them, and I didn't mention it either. In seconds she was going to have her womb flooded with sperm.

"Aaaarrrrgggg!!" I cried into her ear, like a pirate in heat.

"Oooooohhhh!!" She replied, her final gush of an orgasm flowing out of her.

I lay on top of her, as we both caught our breath.

"That was awesome!" She whispered to me.

Together we rolled on to our sides; I was still hard, and inside her.

"It sure was!" I whispered back.

Somehow she managed to pull out the soaking wet towel, and sharing a pillow we fell asleep with my cock inside her and my hands on her chest.