At 21 I started my freshman year at college, and within a few days my roommate Brenda had informed me about which fraternity houses and off-campus dormitories were party houses, the places where a girl was most likely to get laid. Brenda knew all about them, since she had attended the summer semester, and she was a 21-year-old slut. She had started by dating one guy, but one night she got drunk and had sex with one of his frat brothers, as well as with him. After that it developed to the point where she’d hook up with them and they’d take turns having sex with her. She told me how one time they even did it in a park, on the hood of a car, while some local pervs stood around watching and jerking off.
One night Brenda took me to a party at her favorite frat house. After we’d had a couple of drinks Brenda ran into a guy she knew, and they disappeared upstairs. Then another guy, named Walt, began talking to me. He said he didn’t think he’d ever seen me before, and I told him it was my freshman year. As we were talking I noticed people going in and out of the basement. I asked Walt what was down there, and he shrugged. “It’s like party central down there,” he answered. “But I really wouldn’t suggest you go down. It gets pretty wild.”
I was what one might call a “late-bloomer” (read: kind of dorky) in college, so I really wasn’t a big lady’s man. My friends, on the other hand, were quite a different story. They were all soccer and basketball players, and since my little east coast school didn’t have a football team, they were as good as it got for the girls. These guys had the tightest and hottest of coed trim literally beating down their doors nightly for a taste of their on-campus “popularity”. It was crazy, and pretty much all I could do was sit there, dream, and salivate…sometimes more than others. (Yes…I lived a lot—vicariously, that is—in those days.)
So—one night—it was quite the treat to actually witness a little bit more than my friends taking the assorted lasses off to their rooms and closing the doors behind them. By pure chance, I was using the communal restroom / shower-room on our floor of the dorm—finishing up with taking a leak—when I heard my friend John and his “girlfriend” Lexi stumble into the room. He was a mammoth individual—originally from Africa, though he spoke without an accent—the star basketball player on the team. She, on the other hand, was the quintessential rah-rah type—cute as hell, brunette, athletic, perky and bubbly. If ever there were jock and cheerleader stereotypes, these two would have fit them to a tee.
About a year ago my Ex, Mackenzie, came to visit me up at A&M. Mackenzie was a 5’, 7” blonde with long legs a great ass and great tits. It was a football season and it was a last minute idea so there where no hotel rooms but we had and empty room in our dorm that we used to store our tailgating supplies that I told her she and I could stay in.
At first she was a little iffy about the whole thing and thought we might get caught but after I locked the door and turned the light off she became slightly more at ease about the whole thing. We kissed and I ate her out a little as she sucked my dick but then it was time for the nights activities so we got dressed and went to midnight yell. She got pissed off at me for looking at a girl so it was a long and cold night next to her as I waited for her to come around and fuck me. She never did the next day we had our normal tailgate and then went to the game. It was after the game that things really heated up. Mackenzie loved to piss me off just so that I would fuck her harder. As we went to bed that night we started to mess around and we agreed I would eat her out and then she would give me a nice long blowjob and then let me fuck her from behind.
About six months ago my wife Nora went up to visit our daughter at college for a weekend. Originally we were both supposed to go, but there was a last-minute emergency at my business, and I was forced to stay behind while my wife drove up alone. When she returned two days later, she was looking a little guilty, and she said she had something to tell me. Leading me up to the bedroom, she began her story.
Nora and Kate, our daughter, have always been close—more like sisters in some ways than like mother and daughter, despite the 22-year age difference between them. When Nora arrived she met Kate at her sorority house. Nora had, as it happened, been a member of the same sorority back when she was in college, and as a former member she was welcomed and made much of by all the girls. She found herself being treated more like a contemporary than like an older woman, which she found quite flattering.