My Sexual Awakening Ch. 02

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

Author’s note: Thanks for all the positive feedback on my first story. This is the second story in a series, and if you haven’t already read My Sexual Awakening part 1, I suggest you do as it sets the scene for what is to follow. As with part 1, there is not much fiction in this story either.

*****

After our night of passion I dropped Cathy off outside her dormitory. She kissed me on the lips and said,

“I really enjoyed tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I watched her perfect body walk up the steps and disappear behind the front door, then drove to my dorm building, a few hundred metres away. Boy did I sleep well that night. The last thing I thought about was the amazing experience I had shared with Cathy, her touch, her voice, her golden hair, her eyes and the look on her face as she reached her powerful orgasm. She was the first thing I thought of when I awoke, and the scent of her lingered on my fingers, bringing back a flood of sensuous events from the night before.

With both excitement and anxiety I was looking forward to seeing her in the Psychology 101 lecture at 9:30 that morning. Excited because of the way she made me feel and the way she had opened herself to me, but a little anxious as I wasn’t sure how we would handle this new dimension of our relationship. Walking across the sun-bathed lawns to the lecture theatre, Cathy was all I could think of. I arrived early and took my usual seat near the back, watching as people trickled in, waiting with bated breath for her to enter, wondering what I would say, whether she would be alone or with her friends from her floor at the dorm. The lecture began, but still no sign of her. My thoughts raced; had something happened to her? Had she changed her mind about me? Maybe she was just a bit late, but an hour later she still had not turned up and, hardly hearing a word the lecturer had said for the previous hour, I left to go to my tutorial. I was beginning to think that was the end of a delicious but brief encounter.

The tutorial was engaging and took my mind off Cathy a bit, but by the time I walked back to my room I was feeling rather dejected. Imagine my surprise when I found a note under my door that said: “Come to my room after dinner, and bring a book if you can. C.” My heart jumped. She does want to see me. The book reference is our group’s code word for pot, which we liked to smoke a few times a week. The rest of the day was a drawn out blur as I counted the hours until dinner. Whatever dinner was I couldn’t remember but, having scored a small amount of hash from a friend, I made my way to her dorm block. My heart was beating in nervous excitement as I climbed the stairs to her floor. Walking down the carpeted corridor I wondered how many other beautiful girls on her floor, even in her building, were sexually active, how many had boys in their rooms right now?

Cathy answered my knock on her door in an instant, which made me feel even better, and after I had stepped inside she locked the door and embraced me, kissing me deeply and passionately, pulling me in close. When we broke our kiss, I stood back to look at her. She was wearing a full length long sleeved, dark purple crushed velvet dress with a lace up front. I looked around and noticed that the only source of light was a few candles, giving off a warm glow to the room, the walls of which was decorated with two red patterned and fringed shawls, a black and white poster of Bob Dylan, a coloured poster by Alfonse Mucha, numerous small pictures of pretty things stuck on the walls, a book shelf and lots of girlie things like hairbrushes, colourful small containers and some sandalwood incense burning. canlı bahis Pink Floyd’s Ummagumma was playing softly on a tape recorder in one corner.

I started to say that I missed her at Psych, but she stopped me with a finger on my lips and said,

“I did some shopping this morning. Would you like to see what I bought?” I told her that I would and she asked if I managed to get a book. I produced a matchbox containing the small lump of hash and her face lit up.

“Ooh, a hard cover,” she replied (paperback was code for grass, hardcover was code for hash), “I’ll get a pipe.”

After we had each had a smoke and were beginning to feel relaxed and buzzed Cathy told me to sit on the bed and showed me a few clothes that she had bought that morning.

“Would you like to see them on me?” she asked, not really needing an answer, but I gave one anyway.

“Oh yes please,” was all I could manage, and she hung the clothes and their hangers on a wardrobe door knob.

“You know,” she confided with a lustful smile, “I have never done this kind of thing for any other boy, nor have I ever done what I did last night.”

I felt flattered and answered that I hadn’t either. So it seemed we were both virgins.

“I have had my eye on you ever since I saw you at the Union building with your mates at the start of the semester,” Cathy told me, “and I have wanted you ever since. Now I will show you what I bought.” She started loosening the corded tie of the front of her beautifully draped dress and let it slide off her shoulders into a velvet puddle at her feet. She wore no bra and her small, round breasts stood straight out. All she had on was a pair of black bikini panties and she looked stunning. She stepped out of the flattened dress, turned around and reached over to the wardrobe knob, removing a beautifully richly coloured full circle, long Indian skirt which she stepped into and clipped together. Then, reaching over again, removed another coat hanger, on which hung a simple red and purple cheesecloth blouse with gold braid embroidery. She slipped it over her head and turned around.

“What do you think?” she asked twirling and parading as if she were a model.

“You look beautiful in that,” I replied truthfully. The tape was now playing Iron Butterfly’s In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, one of my favourites. She minced over to me and sat astride my lap and, with her breasts pressing into me, gave me a big kiss. Her pelvis was rocking slowly against my hardening member and she continued this for a slow minute or two.

“That’s not all I bought,” she said with a cheeky grin. Bouncing up she stepped over to the wardrobe again and retrieved a black paper bag. She took out two pairs of panties, one black lace and the other a red silky pair. Her hands went to the hem of her blouse and she lifted it over her head, tossing it on top of the previously discarded dress. Then her skirt was undone and she stepped out of that too. Standing there, naked except for her black knickers, and was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

With a glint in her eyes, Cathy hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and as she slipped them down, she turned her back to me. The black pair also ended up on the pile on the floor and she stepped into her new black lace ones and turned around again.

“What do you think of these,” she asked. “I bought them especially for you.” She stepped over and stood in front of me, her lacy crotch inches from my face. Again I could faintly smell the now familiar aroma of her arousal and reached out to caress her hips and buttocks through the thin material. My fingers traced around to the front, bahis siteleri where I could see a faint dark area that was her pubic hair, and I traced over her mound. She shivered slightly, but not from the cold, and stepped back. Hooking her thumbs again, she turned around and repeated the process, this time pulling on the red satin panties. Turning around, she rubbed herself a little and I could see that a dark patch was beginning to spread over her now prominent pussy lips.

I had been having hardons intermittently all afternoon, since reading Cathy’s note, and for the last 10 minutes or so it was harder than it had ever been. Glancing down, Cathy noticed that too.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with your jeans off?” she suggested. Needing no further encouragement I removed them and sat there feeling less constrained but with a huge bulge in my underpants.

As Iron Butterfly’s drum solo began to slow down she straddled me again and began gently rocking back and forth. Her satin panties felt so good to the touch as I caressed her buttocks, then lifted my hands to gently cup her firm, small breasts. Her head arched back and she moaned softly, thrusting harder along my erect cock. The feeling was exquisite and I didn’t think I could hold on much longer.

The events of Cathy’s erotic show and the delicious feel of her satin panties moving against my cotton covered erection were too much for me. I murmured urgently,

“I think I’m gonna . . .” and then, with a grunt followed by a low moan, I lost control and my penis pulsed several times as I released my sperm, filling my underpants with a warm, sticky mess just as the drum solo finished.

“Did you just . . .? Did I just make you cum?” Cathy asked, scooting back a little. “Oh poor baby, and I really wanted to watch you spray it all over me like you did last night. Never mind, do you think you could manage it again?”

I nodded, telling her that I just needed a little time. She hopped off my lap, directed me to stand and picked up a towel from the wash basin. She slid down my drenched undies, remarking,

“Wow, that’s a lot of spunk!” She dipped a finger into the pool and licked it off. “Mmmm, tastes good,” she purred. Then, using the towel, she tenderly wiped up the mess from my groin, and laid the towel on the bed near the pillows.

“I am so hot from this, that I need to finish myself off,” she announced, sitting on the towel, her back against the headboard. “Maybe watching me will put some lead back in your pencil,” she added, her eyes flashing.

Feeling a bit silly being naked from the waist down, I removed my T-shirt and sat cross-legged opposite Cathy. She leaned back and began stroking herself through the red satin panties, which were now quite drenched in the front. After a short while she removed them, giving me the first proper look at her sweet treasure. A neatly trimmed, soft light brown fuzz framed her pouting pink lips, which were glistening from her excitement. Her finger traced around the opening, sliding in, then up to the top, where I could see her clitoris bulging out from under its hood. She worked her fingers around the swollen bump, sometimes flicking it, other times gently squeezing it between her slippery fingers. Her breath was coming in pants now as she urgently whispered,

“Touch me, anywhere, please!” I sat up on my knees and my hands went to her breasts, which I cradled, then gently pinched and tweaked the nipples. Then she commanded me to go “down there” and at first my hand rested on top of hers until she withdrew it and let me fondle her most sensitive parts. Cathy directed me as to what to do, where and bahis şirketleri how to rub, press and flick as she lay back and almost sobbed with pleasure. Her hips were rising up and down to my ministrations until she suddenly said,

“I’m about to come, just watch now,” and her fingers quickly replaced mine, rubbing in circles around her clit. “Oooh yes!” she cried and her vagina twitched and a spray of clear liquid squirted out, onto the towel, followed by a copious dribbling stream. I was surprised to say the least! I had felt how wet she had been last night, but not realised the force of her “ejaculation”. Noting the expression on my face she explained,

“That usually happens, I have always been very wet. I thought it was normal for everyone, but talking to a few of my girlfriends, I found out that I’m the only one I know who does that. I always have to sit on a towel.”

“I love that you do that,” I answered in amazement, rubbing my fingers in the small amount that had landed on my thigh.

“I see that’s got your attention,” she grinned, looking at my erection that had been throbbing ever since she started masturbating. I lazily began to stroke myself, using some of Cathy’s juice for lubrication. Even though I had already come a little while ago, the whole evening was the most erotic time I have ever had in my life and could tell my orgasm would not be far away.

“I love watching how you stroke it,” she said after a few minutes, “can I have a go?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached over and ran her hand up and down the shaft, causing tingles of excitement to course through my whole body. She wasn’t just stroking it, she was making love to it. She asked which was the most sensitive part, and I directed her hand to the underside, near the ridge of skin, and all over the plum head. There was plenty of precum oozing out and her strokes were slick and electrifying.

“Touch my balls,” I requested and, with her other hand, she gently cupped them, then ran her fingers down to my anus. I had never felt anything so wonderful before. Then she asked me to play with myself again, and with her now free hand she slid up my chest to my nipple. The feeling was even more intense than when she did it last night and I knew I was past the point of no return.

“Here it comes,” I announced and she moved in a bit closer, pushed her chest out and told me to cum on her breasts. When she pinched my nipple and I was pushed over the edge. Spurt after spurt flew towards her, splattering her breasts, nipples and neck.

“Wow!” Such a lot again,” she giggled and rubbed some of it around her nipple. We kissed for a while, then finished off the rest of the hash and snuggled under her doona. We talked for what seemed like hours about ourselves in a way that we never had when we were just friends. We discovered that we both greatly enjoyed watching each other masturbate, and in fact loved doing it for and to each other. After a while we both agreed I should go back to my dorm. She stood up, reached to a hook near her bed, took down a colourful, Japanese style designed thin dressing gown and wrapped it around her luscious body.

“You can’t be going back to your room wearing these soggy undies,” she said lifting them off the floor with one finger and dropping them into the black paper bag her new knickers came in, “and you can’t very well have no undies on at all, so you can wear these,” offering her previously discarded black lace ones. Feeling just a tad embarrassed, I slipped them on (just my size) before pulling up my jeans and then putting on my T shirt. I loved the way Cathy’s panties felt against my skin and wearing them was strangely erotic in a kinky sort of way.

“Next time,” she whispered in my ear, “I think I’m going to let you be the one to take my virginity. Sleep tight!” and squeezed my buttock playfully as I walked out the door.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *