1-L of a Year: My (F22-24) Saga of Becoming the Biggest Slut in Law School (Part 1) [MF]

I’ve wanted to be a lawyer my entire life, so upon graduating college I immediately enrolled into law school. If there is one thing you need to know about law school, it is that it’s a hyper competitive learning environment. I’m talking people hiding hornbooks (basically study guides), purposely sabotaging people’s grades to affect your own rank, and exclusive study groups. And there were drugs everywhere—prescribed or otherwise—to keep people focused. I’m telling you, the DEA would have a field day going through bags and lockers at any American law school.

Although people would describe me as hyper competitive, I did not participate in any of the sabotaging or substance abuse. However, I was what many would call a “gunner,” in law school. I know all the lawyers reading this are immediately rolling their eyes at this confession—a gunner you couldn’t stand in your own class likely came to mind as soon as I mentioned this word. For all of you non-legal professionals, a “gunner” is like someone who is always ready to answer, asks super unnecessary questions or hypotheticals, and nearly always has something to say—a real teacher’s pet type. I’ve fully recovered, I promise. Honestly though, I’m not ashamed of it—I embrace it. I went to law school to absorb everything I could and to excel, which I did. I made law review, competed in moot court, and was in the top 7% of my law school class.

This saga starts well before graduation however—the first week of my “1L” year (first year of law school). You see, apart from being a “gunner” in law school, I was also probably the biggest slut in our class. Prior to law school, I wouldn’t have considered myself as particularly sexually deviant (though I did have some fun times). In total, I had probably only fucked 5 guys up to that fateful first week of 1L.

1L started off with orientation. I met and became quick friends with some great people (Hey! Gunners can have friends too, you know). There was also quite a bit of eye candy (both guys and girls—but at this point I hadn’t yet explored my attraction to women). Better yet, everyone I spoke with was incredibly intelligent, which is perhaps the most attractive quality in a person to me.

Classes started, and we were all trying to get a grip. I still remember my first cold call—civil procedure, *Pennoyer v. Neff*. “Ms. RugMuncher,” Professor “Smith” called (we had to stand when our name was called), “Please tell us the procedural posture and rule of law in this case.” I stumbled through my response and about a million socratic follow-up questions, and sat back down. I remember feeling the blood rushing back down from my head into the rest of my body.

Class ended.

“Missy!” someone called.

I turned. It was a guy I met at orientation—Quinn. He was cute. Blonde hair, only about one or two inches taller than me at 5’9, green eyes, and a smile that always hung to the side a little. He was dressed in a gingham button down shirt with some above the knee khaki shorts that showed off his calves.

“Hey,” Quinn approached, “you did great up there today.”

I blushed. “uh, thanks! I was pretty nervous.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been, you crushed it.”

I smiled.

“Hey, have you been looking for a study group for at all?” Quinn continued, “Alan, Mark, and I have been looking for a fourth.”

I hadn’t really been looking for a study group. I find that I study better on my own—noise cancelling headphones on, music on blast—BOOM, nothing better. But Quinn seemed smart, so I figured he might be a good study buddy. It also helped that he was pretty easy on the eyes.

“Sure!” I replied. “When are you guys meeting up?”

“This afternoon, actually—3:00. We already have a room reserved.” He responded. “You up for it?”

“Yeah!” I beamed. We walked to contracts together.

We met up again at the library for our inaugural study group. Although I had seen them before, I introduced myself to Alan and Mark for the first time. Alan was muscular and stocky, with a gravelly voice that made me a bit weak in the knees. He has blackish-brownish hair, and is probably also only about 2 inches taller than me. Alan was the tall man of the group, and also the clown. He was funny, but not funny looking. All three of them could have been clones in the clothing department.

After we were properly introduced we sat down and reviewed our notes for Civil Procedure, Torts, and Contracts. The more I spoke with these guys, the more I liked them. They were smart and funny, and just really chill. Little did I know that I was going to fuck every single one of them.

After a couple hours of studying, we called it quits and I packed up my bags to leave.

“Missy, wait up!” It was Quinn again.

He caught up to me. “Hey, thanks for studying with us! The other guys thought you were great.”

I stifled a giggle and looked at Quinn. “Thanks!” I replied, and smiled (I smile a lot, ok?), “What did you think?”

“Well I was the one that invited you!” Quinn quipped, then paused. “It’s been a long day, you wouldn’t want to go grab a drink with me, would you? My treat!”

I know, I know, he clearly wanted to get in my pants. However, never one to turn down a free alcoholic beverage, I agreed, and he walked with me to a bar near campus.

Quinn ordered us a couple of beers and we started chatting while we drank. We talked about our families, why we wanted to go to law school, what areas of practice we were interested in, what we thought of the experience so far, and how fucking (pardon my French) stressed we were. After a couple of drinks though, I was starting to feel just a wee bit tipsy, and Quinn was getting more confident. Our conversation turned more flirty and risqué. I mentioned at one point that I had never climaxed from oral sex—giant record scratch—and Quinn’s mouth just about fell off his face.

We both laughed. We continued talking until I told him I needed to get back to do the next day’s reading assignment (FYI – reading assignments often consisted of 100-200 pages per day, per class). We got up, and Quinn paid the tab—true to his word (what a gentleman).

I was still feeling the effects of the alcohol as we walked back to our cars.

“Hey Missy,” Quinn said. “I don’t think you should be driving.”

Now, I know what I can handle, and Quinn was actually correct. What he didn’t know is that I was planning to wait it off in the school library.

I brushed his shoulder with mine. “What are you suggesting?” I responded.

“Why don’t we walk back to my place. It’s only a couple of blocks away, and we can finish our reading there,” Quinn suggested.

I laughed and grabbed his arm. “Smooooooooooth, Quinn.” We laughed.

I thought about it for a second, and agreed “Alright, bub. But don’t you try anything. And just until I’m good to drive again.” I winked at Quinn, and he grinned back.

We walked back to his apartment my arm wrapped in his and our 2-ton bags filled with law books over our shoulders.

Quinn had a pretty swanky apartment in a nice part of the city: one bedroom, nice living area, and kitchen. I could tell that Quinn came from money, he clearly wasn’t paying for that space on his own.

He set his bag down on the living room coffee table, and I did the same. We got our books out and started reading. Two hours went by, and I was feeling well enough to get going. I closed my books and started packing.

“Going so soon?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah, I’ll finish up back home.” I responded. “Walk me to the door?” (The door was literally like two feet away).

Quinn laughed and rolled his eyes. I opened the door and turned around. Quinn was holding the door open and our eyes met. My heart thumped.

“See you tomorrow?” I questioned.

“I hope so.” Quinn said

I giggled. “Me too.”

I probably should have left. But, I didn’t. In that moment, Quinn leaned in and kissed me—ON THE LIPS.

My heart raced as I kissed him back, pushing him back inside as he closed the door.

He gently pushed me back up against the door and moved his lips to my neck, kissing and sucking on my skin. I gasped. I didn’t need to show up to law school with a hickey the next morning (what was I, a teenager?), but it just felt so damn good. My hands fell to his ass, and I gave it a squeeze, while he continued sucking on my neck.

I guided his head back up to my lips and started chasing his tongue with mine once more, while I let my blouse and my jeans fall to the floor.

Quinn broke contact and ogled at my form. Brunette, tall, slender (at the time—thanks COVID), in nothing but a black bra and a blue and white striped thong (RIP). I kissed him again pushing him toward the couch as I undressed him. Peeling off his gingham shirt and sliding his shorts down to reveal his briefs sporting a sizeable bulge underneath. He was muscular under those clothes. Toned chest, abs, arms, and thighs.

I pushed Quinn onto the couch and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I fell to my knees and looked into his eyes, one hand on his chest and abs, the other fondling his bulge.

“Can I…..” I asked.

“Fuck yes,” Quinn interrupted.

I don’t mean to brag, but I have been told that I give one hell of a blowjob. It’s a submissive, yet powerful form of sex that I happen to be really—really—good at.

I unwrapped his hardened package from his briefs. Thick, but about average to what I had seen in my previous experiences. I unclasped my bra so that he could see my C cups drop.

I looked up and smiled before licking from the base of his shaft to the tip, maintaining eye contact. I took his dick into my mouth, slowly working my way further down his shaft with each new head-bob. The air was filled with our moans (mine were muffled given the nature of my job at that moment) as I tried to please my classmate. One of my hands was wrapped around the base of his shaft, while the other found its way between my legs, rubbing at what was still concealed under my panties.

“Fuck, Missy. Hold on.” I lifted my head confused. Quinn got up and went to his room, returning with a condom.

I’m glad he had one, because as much as I prefer bareback, Quinn was very much still a stranger to me. Quinn rolled the condom onto his penis and motioned for me. I got up, and he took my hand, guiding me to his bedroom.

I was on my back in Quinn’s bed as he spread my legs. I thought he was just going to fuck me since he already had the condom on, but I’m glad he didn’t. Instead, he peeled my thong off and threw it to the floor, revealing my trimmed pussy.

Quinn dove in face first and *oh my GOD* he was the best I had ever had up to that point. I don’t even remember exactly what he did to be honest, but I remember marveling in amazement as the heat inside me grew. Girls, he may have been eating me for 10 minutes. He was that determined to make me cum like that. I put my hands in his hair, moaning and panting “Yes, Yes,” grinding my pelvis into his mouth.

“Quinn…oh…..I’m…I’m gonna….” Is all the warning I could muster before cumming on Quinn’s tongue and face. I had never experienced this feeling before—so different, yet so satisfying.

“Wooooow.” Was all I could say as Quinn stood up, wiping my juices from his face—he was notably still hard as a rock.

He laid down on the bed to catch his breath. Without wasting one more breath of my own, I straddled him and lined his cock with my freshly licked pussy.

I lowered my hips and let Quinn sink in for the first time.

Quinn closed his eyes and enjoyed the tightness covering him until he was all the way inside me.

“Fuuuuck, Quinn. Your cock feels so good in me.”

I started bouncing my hips, leaning forward so my tits were in Quinn’s face. He grabbed hold and started taking them into his mouth. It felt AMAZING.

“Mmmm, yes. That feels so good. Do you feel good?” I asked.

He nodded, inaudibly. My tits still in his mouth, Quinn grunted and released his load into the condom as I continued moving.

As soon as his cock stopped pulsing, I buried myself back onto him—before he had the chance to soften all the way—and started grinding myself against his pelvis. I didn’t need it to be hard, I just needed it inside of me.

“Fuck, baby. I guess you did feel good!” I said, teasing him as he moved to my other breast.

“I feel good too, baby. I think I can cum again,” I moaned between breaths, my hips now furiously rocking back and forth.

I sat up and put my hands on his chest while riding him, feelings of pleasure reaching their peak once more.

“Fuck, Quinn. I’m gonna cum again.”

“I’m cummiiiiinnng,” I screamed—except it wasn’t really screaming, more of an intensely loud whisper—as my second orgasm of the day washed over me. Not quite as amazing as the first, but I attributed that to the novelty of the initial orgasm.

I slowly stopped moving my hips until my climax passed. I climbed off, and saw that some of his cum (or was it mine?) had leaked down his condom. We finished our studying in bed and fell asleep.

I was a tiny bit late to class the next morning because I had to go home to change clothes. Still, I felt so invigorated. It was like one night of passionate sexy times had washed away all of the stress that I was feeling that week. I discovered soon thereafter that sex was the perfect outlet for my stress. I told Quinn after class that I had a great time, but that I wasn’t really looking for a relationship. He completely agreed with me, and I met him and the other guys later that day for study group. It was pretty clear that he had told them what had happened. Their grins were transparent, and their eyes wandered my neck trying to find evidence of Quinn’s lips on it.

Fucking one guy did not make me the class slut, but if you all like the story, I will definitely write more of my law school journey (hell I will probably write more anyway because it was so great to write down).

XO

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/husqy1/1l_of_a_year_my_f2224_saga_of_becoming_the