The Four Freshmen Ch. 01

Part I: Donna

They weren't exactly international supermodels. Mary, Patty, Barbara and Donna were Freshman roommates making the best of an overcrowded dorm.

I met Donna at a mixer the first week of classes. Within an hour we were naked.

Donna was eager and willing, but still very much a virgin. Some guys would have charged ahead. I couldn't. Not with a girl I'd known for less time than it takes to finish a Physics Quiz.

But I did everything else I could to please her.

I must have succeeded. As we kissed goodbye at her dorm the next day she whispered: "You know, I made a promise to share everything this year."

"With your roommates?" I asked. "You're going to tell them what we did?"

"Of course," she said with a smile that somehow implied that telling was only the half of it. "We promised to share EVERYTHING!"

"Everything?"

"Yes, Sweetie, everything! So get ready, because I think they're all going to want to meet you."

And they did.

This is my recollection of one remarkable era in an otherwise unremarkable sex life. The basic facts are true, although dished up with a serving of literary embellishment. The names have been changed to protect the not-necessarily-so innocent.

The Four Freshmen. Part I: Donna

She was wearing a snug yellow sweater and skin-tight jeans that emphasized her full breasts, flat stomach, perfectly shaped ass, and skinny legs that never seemed to stop. There was something suggestively Italian about her almond-shaped eyes and curly auburn mane.

But Donna's complexion was all wrong. Or all right, depending on how you look at it. She had the pale, flawless skin of an Anne Hathaway or an Evan Rachel Wood.

I asked her to dance, she answered with the shy smile.

During the first dance, her eyes never stopped searching my face. The second dance was slow and when I pulled her close, she ground her pelvis against my thigh.

There was no third dance. We were out the door before the music started.

"I'm Jason," I said folding her fingers into mine.

"I know," she smiled, her eyes catching the shimmer of reflected neon light as we passed through the Square. "You're in my Medieval Lit course. I'm Donna," she added, squeezing my hand.

It wasn't like me to overlook a beautiful classmate. But somehow I had. Instead of uttering something potentially stupid, I simply leaned over and kissed her.

It was the best decision I'd ever made. Our lips touched, parted, and our tongues collided–sending shivers down my spine. Then, as they say, she melted into my arms.

I buried my face in Donna's hair and inhaled deeply. First came the bright floral aroma of shampoo. Then the complex bouquet of essential oils from a perfume that seemed faintly familiar. Finally, a trace of a musky, feminine fragrance that hinted at sexual arousal.

By the time we reached my dorm, her fingers were inside my shirt stroking my chest. And somehow I had worked my hand between her jeans and panties and was cupping the curve of her amazing buttocks in my palm. We broke our embrace long enough to light a votive candle – the only alternative to switching on the environmentally friendly, but aesthetically hideous, florescent room lights.

In the warm, flickering light, I watched Donna unfold on my bed. She stretched out on her back, fingers spreading her magnificent tangle of dark hair across my pillow. Beneath the pale sweater, firm breasts rose and fell in time with her breathing. Her eyes, lips and face glowed with an inner light that reminded of Renaissance portraits of Madonna and Child. It crossed my mind that maybe I had, indeed, somehow died and gone to Heaven.

Donna's glossy lips parted invitingly. Then she closed her eyes, spread her legs and gently arched her back. Her jeans stretched drum-tight across her abdomen, creating a perfect V that began at the hipbones and ended where the inseam vanished between her thighs.

I lowered myself onto her. Her breasts pushed back against my chest, and my cock nestled into the waiting gap between her thighs. Even through our clothing, I sensed the moist warmth of her sex. Her fingers grasped my neck and pulled me closer. Our lips reconnected, I savored her fragrance and I lost myself in the liquid passion of an endless kiss.

It was our breathing–short and fast and urgent–along with Donna's muffled whimpers that brought me back. Not only were our tongues swirling together with furious intensity, but my now rock solid cock was pressed against her soft sex. Our hips moved in unison, cock and vulva grinding together at a rising tempo.

I groaned, Donna whimpered, and we dry humped with increasing urgency. A moment later, Donna went rigid in my arms and her whimpers morphed into a deep, satisfied moan.

It took every ounce of self-discipline, but I managed to suppress my own onrushing orgasm. Instead, I folded Donna in my arms, nestled her cheek against my chest and stroked her hair as her body shuddered with a series of tremors that took nearly a minute to subside.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but when she opened her eyes, Donna was smiling. Her body relaxed in my arms and raising her lips to my ear she whispered: "That was amazing!"

I answered by nuzzling her neck and swirling my tongue in her ear.

She shuddered again, sniffled a little and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "That was my first time with another person."

"Beautiful," I told her. "You are beautiful."

We lay in each other's arms, listening to the cacophony of dorm noise. The rumble of a bass woofer from the room above. Feet shuffling along the corridor outside my door. A TV blasting muffled dialog in the lounge. Random laughter from a distant party.

At last, my erection began to subside. I could still feel the heat between us and the scent of sex wafting from her skin. Then I drifted off...

I woke up to the wonderful feeling of fingertips trailing through my hair. Donna was sitting, holding my head in her lap.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked in a soft, perfectly modulated voice. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Sure," I replied, not feeling nearly as confident as I sounded.

"Do you have a lot of sexual experience?"

"Not like some guys," I equivocated. "I had a girlfriend in High School and although we never had actual intercourse, we did a lot of other stuff."

"And?" she asked with that dazzling smile.

"Last summer I backpacked through Europe and met a girl from France. We were travelled together for a couple of weeks and, I guess you could say became intimate... very intimate."

I searched for any hint of jealousy, but there was only a dreamy expression in her eyes as she processed this admission. She pulled herself to a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her knees. After a long pause she told me, "Tonight is my first time ever... ever really letting myself go."

"I kinda sensed that... I don't want to pry."

"That's OK. I want to tell you," she said, hugging her knees to her breasts. "My Mom left when I was six. I was raised by my Father. He's a wonderful man..."

"But?"

"I can understand why Mom left. He's got these rigid, traditional attitudes about women and sex... He makes the Pope sound liberal."

"I take it you didn't have a lot of boyfriends."

"A few guys tried. He never physically hurt anyone. But he's second-generation Italian and very convincing when he makes a threat."

"So, basically, you've never been kissed."

"Pretty much," Donna laughed. "Not until tonight. I can't believe what I've been missing." Her smile faded. "There so much about sex I don't know about."

"Where do you want to start?" I said, only partly in jest.

"Well..." she paused. I could tell Donna was taking me seriously. Her eyes searched my face for a couple of beats, then wandered down my body, and came to rest at my groin.

I'm no Adonis, but not in bad shape either. At least not for a kid who whose High School sports were building deuterium-fluoride lasers and making National Merit Scholar.

"For one thing," she said, her face suddenly serious. "I've never seen a naked guy, or a real, you know..."

"Cock," I filled in.

"Yes, a real cock. On the Internet, of course. But never for real."

"Problem solved," I said, standing up and undoing the rest of the buttons on my shirt.

"Really?" she giggled.

"I'll show you mine," I said with the silliest smile I could muster. "And you don't even have to show me yours... Unless you want."

"Deal!" she exclaimed. Even in the dim light I could see a glint of lust in Donna eyes.

I let my shirt fall to the floor, released my belt buckle and unsnapped the waist of my pants.

"Last chance to save your innocence," I teased. "After this there's no turning back."

"I don't want to turn back."

"Then I'll go ahead," I said lowering my zipper and letting my khakis slide off my hips. Underneath, I was wearing plain white cotton briefs and, thankfully, not my E=MC2 boxers with Einstein's portrait on them.

The idea of stripping naked for Donna had revived my erection, which was now gently tenting my briefs. She squealed in delight as I slid my thumbs inside the waist band and began to push them down my hips.

"More... more... more..." she chanted, clapping her hands like a kid at Christmas.

The first tufts of pubic hair sprung into view. Dirty blonde and curly, just like all the rest. As a burst of cool air circulated inside my briefs, I could sense myself growing stiffer. I gave the briefs a final tug and they fell to the floor.

My cock sprung into view, bouncing a few times before settling into a half-mast position, neither completely limp nor fully erect.

"It's... it's bigger than I imagined," Donna remarked without taking her eyes off my dangling dick. "It's also... well... I think it's beautiful."

Beautiful or not, her compliments were propelling me to full height. Donna's eyes widened as, apparently on its own volition, my cock went from pointing at the floor, to rising straight out from my groin, to finally curving slightly upward toward the ceiling.

I also noticed she was unconsciously squeezing her thighs together and then releasing them. This was turning her on as much as me.

"How do you do that?" she asked. "Make it grow like that?"

"I didn't do anything. You did!"

"Me? But don't I have to, you know, stroke it or something?"

"You did. With your eyes. When you look at me like that... it's insanely arousing."

Donna giggled, maybe even blushed just a little. She was still sitting on my bed, almost at eye level with my cock and she leaned closer to examine it.

"It's the biggest I've ever seen!" she said in mock seriousness.

"Well, Duh!" I replied. "Also the only one." We started laughing, which made my cock jiggle up and down, which made us laugh even more.

When the laughter died, I realized that the most awkward thing about standing naked in front of a fully clothed woman is what to do with your arms and hands. Letting them hang at your sides feels dumb, but putting them on your hips, or crossing your arms over your chest, feels affected and defensive.

So, I did the only thing that felt natural under the circumstances. I placed one hand across my abs just above my cock and let the other loosely cup my balls.

Once again, Donna's eyes widened in surprise – and her thighs and hips squirmed noticably.

"Does that feel good?" she asked with a hoarse whisper.

"Yes," I sighed. "How does it feel when you touch yourself?"

This time, she blushed for real. With a coy smile, she said, "I should find out, shouldn't I?"

"As your sex instructor, I highly recommend it."

Her smile faded as she slowly spread her legs, reached between them and carefully drew her fingers along the inseam of her jeans. Her eyes fluttered half closed and she made a tiny moan.

"You're right," she said with a look that was no longer shy or innocent. "It's really good."

Almost unconsciously, I wrapped my thumb and forefinger and took several long, slow strokes. My cock throbbed and twitched.

"Is that how a guy does it?" she asked quietly. "How you jerk off?"

"Maybe a little more vigorously. But, yeah, the general idea is to stroke it with your fingers."

There was a long pause as she seemed to be thinking something over. "Would you do it for me?" she finally asked, her voice barely audible.

"Jerk off!" I exclaimed, a little shocked.

"Yes, it's something I've always wanted to see... that I need to see." There was no doubt about the look on Donna's face now. One part curiosity, one part lust. No part innocence.

"Ummm..." I stammered. The truth is I'd never masturbated in front of another person.

Looking down at myself, I saw a drop of clear liquid drop on the tip while a few feet away I was pretty sure a dark, damp patch was fanning out across the crotch of Donna's jeans.

"OK," I agreed somewhat reluctantly. "I'll do it. But it would be even better if we watched each other?"

It was Donna's turn to be indecisive. "This is soooooo embarrassing. I've never even let a guy see me naked before."

"I'd like to be that guy," I said.

"I'd like that too, Jason," she said softly, pulling her sweater over her head. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.

"Wow!" I gasped as I got my first glimpse of her naked breasts.

"What? What is it?"

"It's your nipples... They're so... so amazing!"

"Really?" she seemed baffled by my reaction. "They're always like this when I get really, you know, turned on."

"Oh, My God!" It wasn't her nipples so much, actually, as it was the aureolas which were puffy and swollen and extended an inch or maybe more. "Please, just take my word for it!"

"Let's see what you think about the rest, then," she said, standing up and unsnapping her jeans.

She slipped the jeans down coltish legs, pulling her panties along with them. Donna's skin was porcelain white, tinged with a warm gold glow from the candlelight.

My cock twitched involuntarily at the sight of her taut abs and jet-black pubic hair. She momentarily fought the urge to conceal her sex with her hands before sitting back on the edge of the bed and spreading her legs for me.

Her lips glistened with drops of moisture. It was almost too much and again I found myself fighting back the urge to ejaculate, which sent an involuntary shiver through my body.

"Are you OK?"

My eyes re-focused on her face, which managed to convey a half dozen conflicting emotions at once ranging from apprehension and anxiety to lust and pure sexual arousal. "I'm fine," I assured her. "I'm just afraid I'm not going to last very long."

"Me either," she replied. I could see her nostrils flare and her rib cage rise and fall from her labored breathing. "I never been this... this turned on in my life. I think one touch could send me over the edge."

"All right, then," I replied, taking my cock in my hand and caressing the tip with my thumb. Her eyes never strayed from my fingers, although somehow she was able to drop one hand into the soft black fur between her legs while pinching and twisting her engorged areola with the other.

We actually lasted far longer than I thought possible. Several times I approached the point of no return with my hips thrust forward and my cock only inches from Donna's heaving breasts. Then we would make eye contact and she would give me that same shy smile she had when we first met. The crisis would pass, and I would start stroking again.

After three or four of these near-crescendos, I felt my hips thrusting to meet my fist and an unstoppable orgasm rising in my loins. At that moment Donna's soft whimpers escalated into a wail. Through half opened eye lids, I watched her jaws clench, her eyes roll back into their sockets and her body shake with a powerful tremor.

The first pulse of sperm splashed across her breasts. The second landed on Donna's stomach and arm, while the third doused her outstretched legs and the back of the hand that clenched her public bone. As the final drops dribbled onto the floor, I fell onto the bed beside her, not certain what to expect.

There was a long silence while our breathing gradually returned to normal. Then a giggle.

"I missed it, didn't I?" she asked, her eyes stilled closed.

She had collapsed back onto the bed, with her legs still dangling over the edge. I propped myself up on my elbow and inspected the damage. Little rivulets of cum were puddling between her breasts and in her belly button.

"Ahhh... not entirely," I replied, holding my breath.

Donna opened her eyes, looking first at my face, then at my shriveling cock, and finally down the front of her own naked body. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm sorry..." I stammered. "I didn't mean to..."

She took a deep breath, and it was several seconds before I realized she was, if not savoring, then at least analyzing the mingled fragrance of the various sexual secretions that were steaming off her overheated torso.

Her face grew dark as she turned said sternly, "Don't you ever cum on my tits again!" Then she broke into a wide smile and the whole world brightened. "Unless I get to watch."

"I promise," I vowed with relief.

Donna returned her attention to my handiwork, dipping a fingertip into the pooled cum and bringing it to her lips. She licked hesitantly, paused to consider the taste, then plunged her entire finger into her mouth and licked it clean. "Tastes a lot like chicken," she said with a wry smile

Then she amazed me yet again by taking both hands and massaging my juices into the her skin. "I hear its better than Retin-A for soft-tissue rejuvenation."

Later, I cleaned her with a moist towel, grazing her skin with my fingertips. We listened to a couple of playlists on my iPod, drank a bottle of cheap Chianti, and fell asleep naked in each other's arms.

I awoke sometime before dawn to the sensations of an impeding orgasm. The sheets and blanket had been tossed aside and Donna was sitting between my outstretched legs, her tiny fingers wrapped around my fully erect cock.

"Is this the way you like it?" she asked, stroking lightly but at an escalating pace.

"Oh, God!" I moaned. "You're a fast learner." With that my hips bucked and a small fountain of cum spewed across Donna's hand and fingers. When I opened my eyes again, she was licking the last drops off the back of her hand.

"Still tastes like chicken?" I asked.

"Nope, this morning it's closer to bacon and eggs."

Her own legs were pressed together and I could just make out the shadowy wedge of her pubic hair where it vanished between her thighs.

Moving quickly, I dove across the bed, my head forcing her legs open and my mouth coming to rest on her warm sex. My tongue found her opening and slipped into the gap between her labia while my hands cupped her butt and pulled her firmly against my mouth.

Donna writhed and whimpered and clamped me between her thighs. She grabbed my hair and first tried to pull my head away from her pussy. I responded by fluttering my tongue faster and pushing it deeper between her lips. Then I found her clit and sucked it into my mouth. With this, she changed her mind, forcing her hips upwards and pulling me by the hair, but this time forcing my head into her groin.

Finally, her legs parted, her body relaxed, and she opened herself to my oral sex play. I worked her clit until she seemed on the verge of climax, then I backed off, and went a little lower and pushed my tongue into her vagina. She was wetter than I had imagined, and my tongue shot inside faster and deeper than I intended.

Donna shrieked in pain and surprise and thrust her legs upward with such force that I tumbled backward, my head striking the wall with a dull thud. I managed to get to my knees, holding my throbbing temples between my hands.

She had pulled herself to a sitting position and seemed to be laughing and crying all at the same time.