My previous story made me feel incredibly nostalgic for the exploits and impulsivity I felt during those years. This is a memory that surprised me in a somewhat innocent way – a girl letting the nerd into her dorm room and blowing his mind in a few different ways, and him doing the same to me.
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I first met him at admitted students day. I’ll be straight with you: I definitely had wandering eyes as I stepped into the large ballroom. I smiled pretty for my ID picture (and whatever “audience” I imagined I had) and found my assigned table. I don’t know why I was at his table. We weren’t the same major. Maybe it was because of what I found out later, that we were from the same state. Fate, kismet, whatever it is. We were both at the table and making small talk. Hi, Sam. That was his name. Sam from my state, curly hair, thick glasses, and a clean shave. He was only a few inches taller than me once we stood up and toured the campus, but I couldn’t look away from his strong body, clearly a guy who spent some time in the gym.
The night of orientation, we all stayed in dorm rooms, I guess an effort to show off the upperclassman lodgings. All ten of us who were at the table gathered around the coffee table sitting on various chairs and pillows. Someone had stashed some booze. We all got a little tipsy. We stumbled our way into a game of “Never Have I Ever” that led me to admit a few things I’d rather have kept a secret in a room full of near strangers. I wasn’t sitting next to Sam, but he kept looking at me from across the table. I blushed and giggled with the group, having fun, feeling fun. I exchanged numbers with Sam and later found out he had accepted the offer for the school like I had, and shockingly, we had been assigned in the same quad.
In our freshman year, we spent some time together, hanging out on and off with his residence hall friend group. The vibe felt mutually platonic, and I later found out through context that he had a girlfriend at another college. Bummer, but expected. I also had just broken up with my high school darling, and I could sense he was also looking for something else here at college. But I respected things, kept my flirtation at bay, and slowly lost regular contact with him. I thought he was a contact lost to time, a something that could’ve been, but didn’t.
That was, until junior year. I lay in my bed, freshly washed, shaved, and moisturized from my nightly shower. The clock flashed at 3AM, and I remarked to myself something stupid about the witching hour, as I did every time I was awake to see the clock change. My hair was so long then, down to my mid-back at least, dark brown and highlighted to match the sunny vibes of my beachy college location. I had chosen a cropped tank top, braless, with a pair of black satin men’s boxer shorts. My breasts were squeezed tight by the fabric of my shirt, showing my pair of pierced nipples proudly.
I had just turned off all the lights, just my string lights and lamp casting a lazy golden glow over my single room. I grabbed my phone, plugged in my headphones, and routinely opened my meditation app to listen to the nice man tell me nice things until I fell asleep.
My phone buzzed and paused the audio suddenly. I saw a name I hadn’t seen in almost a year and a half: Sam. Quickly, I opened the text and saw another bubble pop up. I had forgotten I told him at one point, maybe through some light conversation on social media, that I had moved into this dorm. Either way, he had remembered where I was, and let me know that he was out late studying with a classmate, and just thought to text me on a whim since he knew I was there. Wanted to know if I wanted to hang out. I remembered a little factoid he said about himself when we had first met, that he loved long walks late at night. A fellow night owl. For some reason, I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. A 3AM text usually has some sort of intention, no? But the spirit of living on a college campus was so engrained in me – just an hour prior, I had been outside smoking a joint before coming inside to wash the smoke off of me. We all kept odd hours. He probably just wanted to waste some time to get tired, maybe smoke a joint or two with me.
So I told him my apartment number and waited by the door, hoping none of my roommates would hear the loud swinging and auto-locking of our massive door when I let him in. I waited a reasonable, non-creepy amount of seconds before opening the door when he knocked, greeting a slightly nervous, but happy looking Sam. He was casually dressed in a white tee and gym shorts, now looking even more buff and strong than I had remembered. I was so amazed by his transformation that I bumbled out a compliment of how his muscles were looking impressive after I barely squeaked out a hello.
“Hah, thanks. You’re looking nice these days too. Nice PJs!”
I asked him if he wanted to follow me to my room, and he obliged. I listened as he tried to control his breath behind me as we walked down the hallway, a painful procession down to the last door. We sat on my bed, grooving lightly to the music I had selected before I had settled into bed and chatted about what bands we had recently seen, what guitar pieces he was working on recently, etc etc.
A long pause settled into the room, and the music played gently. Unclear who moved first, we both moved in to kiss each other, finally breaking the palpable sexual tension that suffocated us slowly as both waited for the other to do something. He kissed me hard and desperately, placing both his hands around my jaw and pulling me as close as he could to his face. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I grabbed at the roots of his hair, squeezing softly every time I let out a small moan into his mouth.
What was this? Why was I so surprised? Why did I not realize how badly he had wanted to do this to me for years now, most likely starting on that first day I had the same thoughts? I must’ve missed signs, but I guess not? The chemistry blazed hot between us, my breasts rubbing against him and tickling my nipples through my shirt. I felt the wetness growing in my shorts, and I stopped caring how I had been blind to this. Maybe the surprise of it all was what made me want him more in this very moment.
He began rubbing my tits through my shirt, chuckling a quiet remark of approval that my nipples were pierced while pulling them. I couldn’t find words as he continued to fondle me, so instead I nodded and moaned, fidgeting against his touch, beginning to rub my pussy against the bed for any sort of contact I desperately craved. He noticed my movements, and reached his hand down my pants in response.
“Holy fuck, you are SO wet, dude.”
I grabbed his wrist as a reminder to keep reaching further down and wrapped my fingers over his, starting to rub my clit with both our hands. It was a mess of fingers and wet noises as we rubbed, with my hand sometimes slipping off from the movement. I took my hand away and leaned back against his shoulder, cursing orgasmically into his ear when he rubbed my clit gently, but firmly. A good student, clearly excelling in school, up so late, and then learning by experience so well with my helping hand. My legs clenched, and I shoved my face into his chest to suppress an embarrassing yelp as I bucked my hips up into his hand.
I was barely catching my breath when he rubbed me again, letting one finger linger lower to my vagina. I knew I was so incredibly wet; his finger slipped in at least an inch just from the lack of friction there. He clearly noted that as well and slid two fingers inside of me. I sat back against the wall and tried to cover my mouth. He was showing off with his left hand, I had just realized. His shredding hand. I almost laughed in the moment but got lost in my thoughts again when he found the perfect spot inside of me, tickling me, teasing me, coaxing out an orgasm from me. My breaths were labored; I couldn’t produce words or even sounds. I hadn’t experienced being fingered like this before, so intentional and targeted, so disciplined to a steady, loyal pace. I let the hand not covering my mouth wander down to my clit, and I rubbed at the same pace Sam set. A duet now, him and me, both playing in time to the same tempo as we threw me into a familiar bliss: squirting all over him and me. His poor white tee, soaked in my cum. I took his shirt off him and sucked the spot where most of it had gotten.
“Gotta get to it quick so the stain doesn’t set, you know?”
He chuckled and pulled me back in for a kiss, and I let my hand rest in his lap. As if I touched a hot pan, I jerked my hand back, shocked at what I had felt through his gym shorts. My somewhat-friend, the metal nerd, the STEM guy I had thought was cute and had a boy-next-door quality….his cock was fucking gigantic. At first, it barely registered to me what it even was. My brain first went to him having some sort of soda can in his pocket…this entire time? It barely felt like an human appendage with how hard it rested in the shorts, a huge tent proudly standing, waiting for me.
He gave me a knowing look in response to my reaction and began kissing me again, taking my hand and lacing it intentionally on his hard cock. I welcomed it, slowly stroking and teasing the head of it through the fabric, my fingers sticky from the ocean of precum that soaked through. Finally, I decided to let myself see the mystery, what lurked behind the clothes. I wanted to see it in all its glory.
And glory it had, bouncing upright with a trail of sticky precum connecting to his underwear like a shining spiderweb. It looked painfully hard, twitching just from me sitting next to Sam and observing him like a specimen, or a freak show exhibit. He was thicker than the girthiest banana I had ever seen, and longer too. However, there was no curve to his cock, just a perfect straight line of pulsing flesh. I touched it, just for it to pulse and twitch again against my finger. He needed something so badly. I wanted to show him what I thought was my special talent: a deep blowjob. I was anxious about the size of him, but encouraged by my unbridled enthusiasm. He needed me, and I needed to suck a cock as beautiful as his.
I told him to stand up, lean against the bed, and I would get on my knees in front of him. I had found this was the easiest way to deepthroat a cock, open up my throat and kiss the base of it. I teased him at first, rubbing my lips coyly over the tip, then just parting them slightly to take the tiniest amount of him inside of me. He only lasted a few seconds before I felt his hands on my head, pushing me in further. I let spit flow from my mouth, drooling down the length of him. Looking up and keeping his eye contact, I slowly swallowed each wonderful inch, gagging quietly once I hit just above the base. The entire time, I had been applying a healthy amount of suction, and I doubled it. He moaned and played with my hair distractedly.
“Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow.”
Encouragement. I gave him more. I led with misdirection, slowly sliding back up and sucking deeply, just to slide down again quickly, up and down, choking on how huge he was. I felt more drool flowing down my jaw, falling onto my tits that had bounced out of my shirt in all of the ruckus. I gripped onto his strong thighs, then moved my hands up to his cute, round ass, squeezing hard as I bobbed my head. Every once in a while, I stopped deepthroating him, and instead took his cock in my hand, running firm circles around the tip with my tongue. I played with the sensitive spot under the head and kissed it sweetly while extending my other hand up to his balls. I grasped them gently while sucking the tip at the same time, prompting a loud, unapologetic moan from Sam. I realized I didn’t care either. It was 3AM, the walls were thick…enough. My roommates already hated me. And…his voice sounded so sweet when it said my name, pleading for more of my mouth. I barely felt like I was doing it for him at that point. I was so fascinated with his cock, how it felt in my mouth, how the corners of my lips felt like they might tear from being stretched around something so large. I was impressed by my throat, my gag reflex, everything working together to allow me this pleasure.
I sucked him harder, faster, taking more of him than I ever thought possible. He let me control the pace, and I took that responsibility seriously, pacing every stroke to match as a response to his staggered, eager breaths. I rubbed my clit again as I sucked him, moaning against him and feeling my face getting sore. Slowly, I took his cock out of my mouth and stroked it.
“So, Sam – would you like to cum now?”
He nodded and snaked his fingers through my hair once again, politely pulling me back to my prize. I smiled up to him, then hungrily sucked him, sloppy movements, a light pink hue painting his cock from my lip balm that I hadn’t known was pigmented until now. It must’ve been all over my face too, smeared on my chin from Sam thrusting. I wrapped my arms around his hips, securing his cock deep in my throat, then bobbed quickly with the entire length swallowed. His hands shot down to my shoulders, grabbing me as he proclaimed through mumbles that he was about to cum. I slid my mouth up and began milking the head of his cock until I felt the first pulse of an orgasm under my tongue. I loved, and always will love, the way you can feel cum shooting up through when someone cums, the first second where there is no cum, but he’s already clutching for something stable and shouting into the sky.
Then, the explosion came. It was in my mouth, a full, thick load of cum that I instinctively swallowed. He looked down at me with wide eyes and asked me to open my mouth. I stuck out my tongue proudly to show him there was nothing in there. He shuddered, and I felt goosebumps on his lower back, my hands still tightly holding him.
We found our way back into the bed and cuddled for a bit, him playing with my hair, me drawing shapes on his chest. I remarked how I didn’t realize this was what he meant by coming over to hang out, and he admitted he didn’t realize this is what I had mean by hanging out. I smirked and kissed his arm, saying nothing, but thinking to myself how this just made perfect sense, everything about our relationship only existing out of pure chance and convenient circumstance. After a bit, slumber threatened both of us, and Sam trekked back to his place.
I settled into bed again, placing my phone on my desk without any meditation app. I had a mantra stuck in my head: God bless the night owls. Not everyone is an early bird, but clearly, we get ours.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wpptrx/fate_brought_me_to_more_good_head_hes_full_of
Holy shit that was hot. Gave me a semi
this was fuckin’ great! thanks for posting – I hope there are more adventures with Sam!