One of the least exciting things about college has to be clubs. There’s a club for everything, I swear. And inevitably a buddy invites you to a meeting and there’s a mixer after, and unless the club is super lame you get eyefucked by some freshman and the night ends with a BJ or some mediocre sex.
I wish. Clubs would be a lot more popular if that’s how it worked.
But anyway, I was in a college club, one of those major-specific ones that didn’t have a ton of members, but since we were the biggest college in the university we had a lot of support and did a lot of activities. Anyway, our club had decided to do a series of industry tours, and as I’m as advantageous an ass-kisser as anybody else, I volunteered to be in charge of organizing these things. No big deal, make a few phone calls, organize a bus, all’s well.
Apparently the school newspaper got wind of this, and since college newspapers have very little to write about beyond “How to curl your manbun” or “How to avoid giving so many blowjobs” (I shit you not, they wrote an entire article about how to make me want to quit school), I got an email looking for an interview, and we set up a meeting in the lounge in the journalism building for the following Monday. The reporter’s name was Jess, and it turned out she shared a desk at the newspaper with a girl I knew, Jenn, who was the one who had tipped her off for the story.
Jenn was this fun little blonde freshman I’d hooked up with at a party her first week of college, and turned into a bit of an addict. 5’7ish, bright blonde, with big green eyes, some serious hips, and a cute, still high schooler-ish face that I’d probably cummed on 100 times by this point. She was a fangirl, let’s put it that way.
So there I was, sitting in the journalism department lounge, looking for anything that might look like a student newspaper reporter. I don’t know how many of you have spent much time around college journalism departments, but: 1% of them are straight dudes (these guys will become sports writers), 19% of them are gay dudes, 10% are chicks that used to be dudes, 10% are dudes that used to be chicks, 30% are the kind of lesbians that are so extreme it’s scary, 25% are so granola they don’t shower, and 5% are smokeshow hot and will end up as the local TV weather host you jack off about after your first cup of coffee.
Let’s just say my expectations weren’t high.
I was wearing my club t-shirt, hoping to make finding each other easier, and sitting at a booth in the corner of the lounge, near the exit out to the main concourse sipping a Mountain Dew and waiting.
A tall brunette, slender but not skinny walked in, ordering some sort of huge fancy coffee from the barista in the other corner of the lounge. Her legs weren’t short, and she had an ass I can only describe as “epic,” obviously a volleyball butt left over from high school. She was hourglass, and as she turned (wearing a light blue see-through button-up over a too-tight white cami that did a terrible job of covering up an obviously dark blue pushup; the jeans were dark blue and practically painted on to her ass) my eyes caught first her incredible hips and then her big brown eyes. She carried a notebook and pen, with a book bag casually over her shoulder. Our eyes met, she smiled and walked over, holding out her hand.
“Hi, I’m Jess.”
I stood, being polite, “Drew,” guessing my bulge was already starting to show a little in the sweatpants i had on.
We sat down, and from the start I could see a bit of eyefucking going on as she sipped her fancy coffee and asked me inane questions about what really amounted to a series of weekend trips where I was gonna get laid. Gradually I started breaking her down, making her more comfortable…asking about her as much as she was asking about me. Turned out she was from Wisconsin, and that she liked to go out and party with Jenn (which was news to me, as I’d definitely partied with Jenn, and never seen this piece before) even though Jenn was perhaps a bit wilder partier than her (an understatement).
There was a definite hint of flirting…and I was getting a boner, watching her ample, perky-looking tits strain against both her pushup and her cami.
“Come around, here, I’ll show you some of what we have planned” I said, sliding over in the booth, patting the seat next to me, and producing a binder out of my bag.
She slid around on to my side of the booth, and I started paging through the binder full of stuff no reasonable person could be interested in…at the same time, I slid a hand across her thigh, taking her hand – she was on my right side, so it must’ve been her left – and slowly sliding it back across her thigh, then to my thigh.
I was wearing boxer-briefs under my sweatpants that day, and when I’d slid over I’d made a point of tucking my half-boner down the right leg. In seconds I had her hand right on top of it, and she started to feel her way around on her own, much to my relief. Above the table we were droning on pointlessly about a tour of some wheat storage facility; below the table within a few minutes she was practically jacking me off down my leg. I have to say, she was pretty good at it, and I had a pretty solid hardon running down my right thigh by the time she slid her notebook over and scribbled messily in lime green pen…
“This thing is fucking huge.”
I grinned, and continued as though nothing was going on, all the while sliding my pen across the table and scribbling below her note: “Going to do anything about it?”
She’d been looking around a bit nervously, I assumed to make sure nobody was watching her give a handy in the middle of a college study lounge, when she finally cut me off mid-sentence by tugging at my shirt “C’mere, yo…”
She all but dragged me out of the booth, with me just managing to grab the binder I’d been reading from – if I was standing up I was absolutely going to need something to even attempt to hide the boner now uncomfortably throbbing down my right leg and straining against my boxer-briefs and sweatpants. I followed/She dragged me by the hem of my shirt down a corridor toward the offices of the student newspaper, stopping in the hallway to open what appeared to be a server closet or something similar – racks and racks of computer stuff with cables of all sorts. I dutifully stuffed myself in, she checked the hallway in each direction, and then closed the door behind her.
It was dark, but dimly lit by the racks of computer equipment whirring away directly next to my right shoulder as I leaned myself up against the wall, half sitting on some boxes of paper stacked in the corner. It was a bit warm, and obviously cramped, but I didn’t mind, as the door had barely shut before she had unleashed the beast and the whirring of the stack of computer equipment was interrupted by her first gag. There was a pause, and I felt her adjust her hand, getting a better grip on my thick shaft.
“Fuck, I didn’t know they made them this big.”
Gag. Gag gag. Fuck, this girl was either insane, good, or both.
Gag. Gag gag gag. A pause as she tried to catch her breath, slurping up some of the slobber now appearing on her chin.
“Fucking hell, girl.”
She smiled. Gag. Gag. Slurping noises. She was starting to get the hang of it, and in a couple more strokes she was headbobbing while sliding a hair clip in to keep her hair back. I just sat back, enjoying, my hands keeping me propped up on the paper boxes.
Up she came to catch her breath again. Things were getting sexy now – a couple of strings of slobber dripping from her chin, she was tugging the wet shaft with both hands now.
“Fuck it’s big.”
“Yeah, so are those,” motioning to her full, perky, but bouncing chest, “let’s see them.” Without waiting I leaned forward a bit, hooking her cami and bra with my finger at the top of her left breast, and set it free. The right one followed a few seconds later. They were gorgeous – 34D I found out later, with perky pink/brown nipples and ample underboob. Soon her slobber was dripping on them as more of my cock somehow disappeared into her throat. She came back up to breathe again.
“I’m gonna be fucking late for class” she groaned, jacking my shaft and head as hard as her left hand could work my glistening dong, then attacking my balls with her mouth, one eye on each side of my tree trunk, mauling the right one, then the left one, then both.
“You ever fuck anything like this?”
A headshake told me no, even without her mouth moving one milimeter from my balls.
“Want to?”
Eager head nodding.
“Alright, put your dorm room info right here…” I held out my hand flat…she let my balls drop out of her mouth as she tugged her pen out of her hair ponytail (where she’d apparently stowed it for the time being) and scribbled a dorm number and floor on my hand.
“Alright. Wouldn’t want you to be late. Open up.”
I took my cock from her and started jacking.
She sat back on her heels, mouth wide open, sliding her hands up to fondle her tits a bit for me.
“Mmm good girl…lemme feel those titties a bit…”
She slid up a bit more, sitting up straight on her knees, and I felt her tits slide around the base of my cock, pressing against my balls lightly.
“Good girl…open wide.”
She didn’t have to be told. She knew what she was here for, and she got it…the first shot went straight to the back of her throat. I didn’t see the others. My head was back as I emptied into her mouth, and when I looked back down at her there was just a little splash that had landed across her upper lip, to the right of her nose. She was grinning, cum oozing between her teeth. She slurped the overshoot off her lip, showed me the load in her wide open mouth one more time, and swallowed, lifting her top back up and putting her tits away at the same time. She stood, picking up her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder, and pointing to her address scribbled on my hand.
“It’s an Honors floor. No roommates.” she added, then disappeared out the door and down the hallway. I hastily tugged my sweatpants up, then dove out the door, just catching a glimpse of that fantastic ass as she disappeared around the corner.
My club was on the front page the next day, for no reason anyone could really understand, and I had added another rather cute set of cotton panties to my collection that night, but that’s maybe a story for another time…
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/12kbwmd/the_student_newspaper_mf
!updateme
!updateme
!updateme
immediately lost interest at the casual transphobia/homophobia in the beginning. thanks for instantly letting me know it wasn’t worth reading lmfaooo
!updateme
!updateme
yes, definitely another story for another time. !updateme
You write so well beauty!