Thighs in College

December, 2005

Waist

Leah was twenty years old. She had curly black hair. She was pale and a bit thinner than was healthy. She smoked Marlboros. She listened to bad metal that she thought was alternative an unpopular but was in fact relatively mainstream. She respected intelligence and thought I was intelligent. She was failing out of school. We had a number of mutual friends. We met at a party at her friend’s place. We made that night and started seeing each other around campus afterwards.

I was a freshman in college. I was about to turn nineteen. I’d never had sex before. Never had a real girlfriend. Now I did have a girlfriend. We made it official in mid-December. We were in Leah’s friend’s trailer home in central Maine, near to campus. We lay on the fold-out bed, making out wildly, in our shirts and underwear. My crotch was pressed against her’s and I dry-humped her through her boxers. Her thighs were smooth against my waist. Her boxers hiked up further and further and I feel more of the smoothness.

Head

I went down on her. I swirled my tongue vertically up her vagina, feeling her trimmed hair prickles against my tongue, and heard her emit a fluttering series of gasps from above, each time I licked. I finally pushed back a vaginal lip on lick five or six and felt her wetness. I swerved my tongue all the way up to nearly her waist and intended to do it again. But she shuts her legs around my chin and my cheeks and I felt the smoothness one more quick time before she half-pulled, half-guided me up to her mouth and we kissed again, deeply. She said she wanted me so bad. I thought for a moment and told her she could have me. She asked am I sure. I said yes.

January 2006

Waist

By now myself and Leah are going through the whole required roster for two troubled and slightly immature individuals in college; I’ve been depressed and anxious and insecure; she’s been self-destructive and possibly hooking up with her much older ex-boyfriend over winter break; I’ve been verbally abusive; she’s been failing at school; I’ve been non-committal to her and only using her for sex at this point; she’s confessed to me that she’s a nymphomaniac and wants me to use her for sex; she’s been angry with me about my immaturity; I’ve been angry with her because I’m immature.

So it’s really important for us to fuck on her friend’s couch, again, while intoxicated (she more than I) after a party. Everybody’s cleared out except for her friend, her friend’s boyfriend, and their roommate, all of whom can surely hear the springs squeaking as I pound Leah deep this time, her legs bouncing up in the air like signposts, signposts reading “entry point here; beware all who enter.” Not long ago, I didn’t get it that sticking the tip of my cock into her pussy and moving it like half an inch did not cut it. I was always slipping out of her when I did it that way. This time I’m all the way in and she’s whispered to me to go as hard and as fast as I want. So yeah, I’m going to give it to her. She’s tired of training me and she wants me to give it to her. And she likes the feeling of my raw cock so much that this time she sighs and inhales sharply, as if she has hiccups and breathes out again. When she says, “_, you’re gonna make me cum…” I work my pelvis harder still. I let my cock ram in and sit there in her wetness for half a second before moving back and forth again.

It’s at the point before I start unloading my long orgasm inside her that I feel her thighs clamp my waist. They aren’t avoiding me this time in lieu of her kissing me. Her thighs aren’t saying, “You need to work on this, let’s kiss instead,” like they were when I ate her pussy. Her clamped thighs are saying the same thing her face is saying, which is:

Minutes later, I’m getting paper towels and she’s wiping up the streaks on the sheets.
Every person in that house heard what Leah and I sounded like through our mouths. But only I felt what her thighs said.

February, 2006

Head

You want to stop seeing me, Leah? You want to go and immediately get together with this other guy, this dude with a beard who looks like a serial murderer and avoid me like the plague? No problem, I’ll just hook up with Cheryl, the strange, white-trashy, short-haired chick who lives on the second floor of my dorm. Who was, for a while, fucking this guy Andrew. Who probably still is, except she isn’t the type to be exclusive. When we chatted on instant message and I griped to her about Leah and our breakup, I mentioned that I just wanted somebody to casually have sex with. Her immediate response was, “would you want to casually have sex with me??” No, I’m serious. That was her response. I had to think about it for a bit before I typed in, sure.

So now I find myself 69’ing with her, feeling her lips around my shaft, sliding up and down, and licking to and fro, my eyes closed, across her pussy lips. I open my eyes and it’s the first time I get a really serious, blunt, honest to god close up view of the inside of a vagina. She’s purple. Her vaginal lips are purple. There’s ooze in between them. My saliva? I kind of can’t believe it. I want to be repelled but I’m not. I shut my eyes again and bob my head forward again and keep my tongue in business. Her thighs sit on both sides of my head like pillars. First my ear brushes one thigh, then my other brushes the other.

Waist

It’s on that second brush that she ends the 69. She turns around and sits on top of me and rides me and rides. I put my hands on her waist and steer her along. Her thighs smack my pelvic bone and her skin is harder, tighter than Leah’s. As I listen to Cheryl’s voice rise in pitch, I miss Leah’s thighs. With each extra second that each of her moans lasts, one after the other, I miss Leah’s thighs more. I tighten my grip and steer Cheryl harder. Falsetto. An extra two seconds.

It’s after I shower and my cock is all clean and non-sticky again and the taste of her vagina is just a thin afterthought and I’m exiting the shared dorm bathroom, feeling all of nineteen and six weeks, that I realize how much my life has changed in the last two months, and I think of how things will never be the same again.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/546hdk/thighs_in_college