Brie had a riding habit of pressing her face against my neck during some point usually towards the end of our sessions. But there were also metre when she clutched the book binding of my neck opening and suddenly I felt her intrude bearing down on my go's apple only about two minutes in, so maybe she was just queasy and didn't know what to do. There was this one time in my residence hall elbow room, during a bout of midday horniness that needed some backup man. And this sentence was sexy as shit because she was sitting on top of me and I bounced her up and down and felt my thumb dig in to her belly button and watched her moan up at the low hanging brightness level that she could hold bonked her straits against if she leaned much closer. As if she were practicing modern font dance stage dancing ( and she had been a dancer, which she'd given up for studying painting and banging me ), she curled her head down so she was looking straight down at my blue belly. And she turned up the volume of her groan as if the hairier part of my abdomen made it so much sexier.

She dipped downward and buried her face in my cervix, while at the like clip, amazingly, reaching back with one script and seizing my peter to do sure as shooting it stayed inside her. This time I was being responsible and wearing a condom. It felt very awkward, but for the next instant or so, I got an inch-away vista of her slender, ropey black hair with even a single gray hair near the top of her head where it parted. She'd worn her hair in a ponytail when we first met, but that had gone the way of all bad ideas. Her intimation felt hot on my cervix and her groan vibrated off my pillow like a surround sound museum piece. I felt her hand that wasn't on my cock slither around in to my hair. I felt her eyelashes fluttering against my neck. I peered up over her head to see what the legal action was like south of the heavy hill. Her ass bobbed in the air and my dick felt like it could fling out of her at any second. So I scooted down and, in a feat of gymnastics, curled my stage up so they forked between her legs and spread them out on either slope and got my old pal more firmly situated in her pussy. I thrusted with more government agency and her hand jerked away from my cock. It writhed across her ass and rested at the edge of her quip. I could see my nuts flailing above her ass like two fat kids trying to jump over a wall, but then I started coming and exclude my eyes and put both of my hands around her cheeks. I raised her cheek so she looked in to mine and at the moment our optic met she stopped her staccato moans. Her aspect was flushed and her lips were parted and her middle were squinted, like they had been shut for duration of their conversance with my cervix. The fat of her cheeks was balled up between my thumbs and index finger. I finished and let my legs free fall flat. I didn't kiss her. I just held her brass and we stared at each early, breathing. She bent down and kissed me for a hanker time.

She sat on the bed, dabbing at her groyne with a tissue paper and got back in to her faux pas. I rolled off the condom and wrapped it in a match tissue and threw it away. When we were both fully dressed, we looked at each early again, smiling and she raised her blazon in a partial shrug. We really didn't know what to say. What can you say ?"I guess I'll see you soon ?"she said."Yeah,"I said."Call me or something."“ Why don't you give me a call ?"A intermission."If I feel like it."“ Bye Dennis."She walked out the door with her handbag swinging from her shoulder loosely enough that it could take in spilled all over the floor.

I wanted to be something like an art gangster that past semester ( Spring ). I hung out with a few other dudes who knew spray painting and we went around campus at night with nebulizer cans, spraying designs on the sides of edifice and in schoolroom holding classes we hated. Then a campus cop, this total fatty, saw us walking around and one guy, I think Jim ( dumbshit ), was holding his atomizer can in plain view. The cop said,"Hey ! What are you kids up to ?"And I remember saying,"nooky, let's run."And we did and the fat cop hardly bothered to chase us. He yelled some poop and I heard him running, but then he stopped and I heard the crackleware of his radio. He said something about these five kids, holding a can of something, etcetera. Nobody came after us, and we all dispersed at the top of Crest Hill and ran back to our dorms. From that gunpoint on, we A ) tooled on Jim a lot and B ) stuck to spraying situation downtown, like at the abandoned caravan track under the Orono bridge, and the vacant lot at Sidberry Street. What a gens, Sidberry. I picture a sleazy guy named Sid with tattoos and sunglasses smoking a cigarette and dropping trow, but the crummy hoi polloi down there were us, and we smoked joints.

I got laid the most of any of us. The other bozo were either Virgo or had gotten it maybe a couple times. Stevie was once bragging about getting head the previous week, and I whipped out the word-painting of Janis and he stopped bragging. Nate once asked me if Brie had any hot friends. I was surprised, because I didn't even remember telling them about Brie. Brie and I would smoke sess and talk about house painting and music. matter that we actually had in common. I think she mostly stayed with me because of the sex, which was the Lapp reason I stayed with her ( who woulda thunk it ? ). But sometimes she behaved like an literal girlfriend. Like one evening when we sat on the bench outside the library, after checking out a couple books on Rembrandt van Ryn that she needed to help her study. She sat on one of my branch and nestled her head against mine. Her former leg hung loosely down the slope of the workbench and I noticed a tear in her jean. I put my manus on it and rubbed that blot. I looked out over the campus and saw a number of other girls walking around. most of them I could probably fuck if I really wanted to. But I didn't care at that import. I was glad to be with this artsy, intellectual, slim, dark-coated young adult female in my lap.

We were fucking in her room. It was very dark and the shades were down. I was on top of her, doing my technique where I moved slowly and caressed her body up and down with each rhythm and, while she lay there thinking how quixotic this was, gradually speeding up until it turned in to raw, splanchnic, trousering, thwapping, bed-squeaking sex. We were getting towards that latter part. She was in a breathy temper this even ; her back talk curled up showing her teeth, which were parted and made her expression turn from almost angry to disbelieving, to giving in. She arrived at this finally expression as my ballock starting slapping against her and she craned her neck back and shut her eyes. She made a noise that was a dissolute paced version of the racket a woman makes when she's beginning to laugh at the inappropriate laugh you made. I grunted long, guttural grunts. I heard the bed abrasion against the floor. It was actually moving forward. I was fucking Brie, and her bed. I wonder if the bed liked it. It scraped again, louder, and further forward. She balled a clod of my hairsbreadth up in her script and said, between broken breathing spell,"Dennis. Dennis. I'm coming."She did a replete soundbox saccade to her right and the bed groaned against the level again. It bumped against the wall. She grabbed at the edge of the mattress, missing her aim the maiden time, then latching on to it. I pressed one hand down on her mattress and propped my trunk above hers like I was doing a one armed push-up. This allowed my groin to form of flex so my cock could impress about ten times faster. It was an idea I'd gotten at the gym while doing actual push-ups. She started yelping.
I cupped one of her legs in my hand and pushed it forward to give myself more room. I trembled from holding myself in this office.
I felt like if I got an aneurysm from fucking a girlfriend this hard it would be totally worth it.
She said,"Oh my God."She took several rapid intimation.
An orchestra of bedsprings going squeak squeak squeak squeaker and speedy female breathing.
"Fuck,"she said.
The bed scraped against the wall again.
She ripped the bed sheet off the mattress and her arm careened through the air ; her manus swiped my pectus.
Her heart were shut and she vocalizing the integral pentatonic scale, though favoring the `` do '' note.
My hand swept down her leg in a mutual muscle spasm ; her leg jerking forward and my arm surrendering. I collapsed on top of her. My caput touched down on her pillow. My coming felt like it took two minutes. I could feel the prophylactic getting squeezed off my cock half-inch by half-inch. Brie 's exhales were tenacious and loud and sounded like she said ‘ Ga'over and over. She squeezed me twice with her arms and legs and I didn't pass on a ass if the rubber broke if it felt this good. I did n't need this to end.

When I got back to my elbow room, I found a annotation on the room access :

sports meeting US AT THE spine OF violent storm AT 5:30. WE KNOW YOU DON'T HAVE CLASS THEN. WE KNOW YOU WON'T sorrow IT.

There I was, at the rachis of storm Charles Francis Hall. I didn't see anybody. I don't usually smoke, but I was smoking a cigarette then, because I was nervous. I don't usually get nervous. Only in my dream. I try ( and succeed ) to not dedicate a shit about the slightest thing on the outside, and as a snap 22 I have nightmares. This felt like a pipe dream. Two buster came up to me from the path behind the dumpster. They were carrying textbooks and wearing preppy sweaters, but I felt like I'd seen them both before. One of the guys—the wickedness haired one—nodded at me, and kept ignoring me. For another few second gear."Dennis,"said the visible light haired dude."What's up,"I said and dropped my fag and stepped on it."Trey,"he said. I shook his hand."Brent,"said the nighttime haired guy. I shook his hand. There was a pause."Let's cut to the Salmon Portland Chase,"said Brent."We've heard stories about you."“ The altogether campus has heard stories about you,"said Trey."Now let's get real. Some masses think you're disgusting, a loony, a horrible person,"Brent said."But we think you're just one of us."“ We want to induct you in to Alpha Alpha Sig Fi,"Trey said."The what ?"I said it loudly."We're a secret frat,"said Brent.

Over the next couple hebdomad, I started going back and forth between my dorm and this rented house off campus, which served as the base of Alpha Alpha Sig Fi. The house was almost impossible to see and I needed to mention a password before I was even given the address. At first, I thought I was being inducted in to something that was basically the ultimate inside-joke : a burlesque of actual frats. But I came to understand that there was a specific mission of the frat. It was for college age bachelors. instrumentalist. Womanizers. Whatever you wanted to scream yourself. Every dude in this house—and there were only fifteen—was in perpetual competition with the other to fuck more daughter than the other, and so far, brent held the record ; thirty-two missy in one college class. This was why he was the leader of the frat.

I was the vernal dude there. Everybody treated me with half-admiration and half-backhandedness. They let me drink their beers and come to certain events but they called me The Basic-Virgin sometimes. We had to compile our seduction in some way shape or form. Some fop made porn film with their young lady. Others took motion picture. Some did sound recording recordings. Most—including me—wrote them up in stories. We had our own secret website where we posted everything and all the stories were judged each hebdomad. So far, Trey held the record book for the best narration ; his work spanned all medium. This made him second in bidding. Of grade, there were rules, all of which I had no problem with. We used nom de guerre for all the female figures—real names would get us forced out ( apparently, the frat had almost been exposed a brace year back, when one of the girls found out about the picture he had posted, sued him, and won ). Underage sex was an absolute disgrace, and brant even said he would go to the police if he heard about it. No otherwise freaky, kinky, or illegal clobber ( I don't need to go in to specific ). summer conquests didn't count. If anybody slept with an escort or a prostitute—expulsion. And I was repeatedly told not to talk to anybody about this frat. Don't even mention other appendage's names."There are rumors that go around about us, but nobody believes them,"Trey assured me.

Before I was officially inducted, I would have to be intimate this one girl in the sister house—Jesus, we have a sister sign ? That's what I said as soon as I heard. Yes, we did. They were even smaller ; only nine of them. But we were having a Schmooze– that was what they called a party—on Friday night, and I had better be there .