My relationship with Kristina had been an interesting one. We met in college when some mutual friends were actually trying to set us up with other people at a party. We spent the evening talking and found that, at that time, we had some common interests and goals, and eventually made our way back to my house. Since I was one of the older guys in my house I had the privilege of having my own room. That had some great benefits on this night and a few others. When we arrived to my room I opened a few beers and we carried on talking for a while on the couch, and eventually things progressed to us kissing, and pawing at each other like teenagers. We continued the fondling in a slow escalation with our hands over our clothes, but soon I had a hand under her sweater and felt the softness of the skin on her back, and as that happened we turned so that my back was against the back of the couch so that she was all but laying on me. She in turn, reached down to stroke my length over my jeans, then began to fuss with my belt buckle. Ultimately, things progressed to the point to where she started to slide off of my lap and to her feet, but not before she took hold of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Once standing, she walked over and locked the door, turned and walked back toward the couch grabbing her beer. She steadied herself, took a big drink, looked back at me and winked.