A Topless Texas Tradition: Chapter Two free porn video

She was talking me into it now. I couldn't believe it. Another person was going to do this. I wasn't going to be the only weird one on campus.

"But you heard Dr. Spiros, people stopped doing this," I protested.

"PHFT so what? So, some perv has a dirty picture. Doesn't mean we shouldn't be allowed to show our bodies."

I held my breath as I took off her T-shirt and held it out awkwardly in front of me along with my books. Sam took a second with the tiny white covering as I saw how truly gorgeous her body was. Sam didn't have an ounce of fat anywhere; her breasts were perfect, and her nipples were like perfectly proportioned and centered dots. And no matter how she moved, how she walked, how she bent, they only moved just a little, just enough to draw my eyes, as she moved her hands to her hips in sort of a 'tada' gesture.

Despite the warm Texas weather, her nipples seemed to be permanently erect, whereas mine could kind of fade depending on my mood. Right now, it was obvious I was excited; I could feel it, having all those people see me was something unique and something that had been building up for a while. It felt like I was actually having one of those college experiences that everyone else talked about, that I finally had the chance to let go of some of my more pressing responsibilities and live a little. When else was I ever going to be standing naked in public in broad daylight and feel not only safe, but in control, like I was determining what kind of future the world was going to be, even if it was in this stupid small way?

"So, what now?" Sam asked.

"Well, I have another two hours before the next class." I said. "What about you?"

"I've got some time before my next class," she said casually.

By now, campus was picking up with the hustle and bustle of early morning students, professors arriving for work, groundskeepers, and other staff all forming this intellectual hive sequestered from the rest of the city. And if there were stairs, and I'm sure that there were, I found myself not really noticing them as I walked. Like the rest of the campus, I was transfixed, but by only one of the women daring to shed her bra in public.

"Sammy, what the hell are you doing?"

My head whipped around at the exclamation. After the entire day of everyone noticing and no one daring to say a word, it was strange to have these two girls sauntering up towards us. Obviously, they were friends of Sam, good friends to be talking so candidly at her, but it was hard not to feel a little out of place. Even though we were doing the same thing.

As I thought about it, I wondered if this was too much for her. After all, I can't imagine my friends or any of my family seeing me like this, and she was doing this to join me. But Sammy seemed to just chuckle back at them, not embarrassed, not mortified, completely comfortable as she faced her friends.

"Oh, get real, Jillian, it's not like it's anything you haven't seen before," Sam retorted.

Jillian had short blond hair and stood a little bit shorter than me. Her friend seemed much shyer, and a little uncomfortable as Samantha embraced Jillian, her breasts brushing against the other girl's blouse. I could see both of them looking up and down at us, and for some reason I didn't feel weird or awkward about it.

"So, is this a new way to get dates?" Jillian said.

"Actually, we are empowering women," Samantha said snidely.

"How so?" Jillian said.

"I'm Paige, by the way," her friend addressed me, stretching out her hand. "I hope Jillian is not bothering you, she can be a little-"

"A little what?" Jillian intruded.

"A little bossy," Paige put on a no-nonsense voice. "And in this case a little aggressive with two beautiful women who have done nothing but put on quite the show for us. We could at least hear about how they are empowering us. Better than anyone, you know us girls have to stay together. "

"You're right," Jillian said, putting her arm around the other girl.

They were clearly together.

And maybe that's why it didn't feel weird to be talking to them. They seem genuinely interested not just in our bodies but in what we had to say.

"I'm sorry if I was rude, "Jillian said. "But really it's Sammy's fault for not introducing us to such a beautiful woman. "

"It's fine," I said, forgetting for a second that I was even topless. "I'm Morgan, by the way. Sam and I just met today."

"Somehow you were just impossible not to notice," Sammy said.

We all had a laugh at this.

"So, this wasn't your idea? I'm surprised, Sammy," Jillian said.

"Not at all, and this is no bullshit either," Samantha said. "Morgan even lectured Dr. Spiros about it. It's all about showing the foolishness of Texas laws banning breasts in public. Everything from breastfeeding to sunbathing is sexualized for men, so why do we have to stay clothed to feel safe?"

"Wow, I can't believe you two went to class like that," Paige said. "I could never be that brave."

"It's not too late to join us," I suggested.

They both laughed.

"Maybe if you got to us later in the day," Jillian said. "With a few drinks in us."

"I couldn't," Paige said. "But if you don't mind me saying, you both have lovely bodies and we appreciate you advocating for us and being comfortable enough to show off."

"Yeah, keep Austin weird!" Jillian said.

They were so sweet, not only together, but also in being so inviting and friendly. I realized that this might be what I was missing out on for my college experience. One friend could easily lead to an entire social network, an actual life instead of just art and the Internet. And even though my breasts were on full display, the most exciting thing was opening up and actually talking to someone new.

"So, what are you two girls up to today?" Sammy asked.

As her arms wrapped across her chest to her shoulders, I caught myself staring, trying to see past her thin arms. I never really thought of myself as anything more than curious, but I had to admit I enjoyed seeing her in the state of undress, though I wasn't sure how much of it was just because I longed for a companion of any kind. Yes, I had to admit, I had a strong sense of sexual arousal just at the situation, at being watched all morning, and having someone join me just added to the eroticism.

Was I into Sammy?

Would she be into me?

I don't want to just assume she was a lesbian because she had lesbian friends. I also couldn't quite picture what I wanted. The idea of being with a woman had always been in the back of my mind; it's something that the culture seems to encourage experimentation with, but I never really pictured myself with any particular girl. Seeing Sammy like that, her small tits and perfect nipples exposed to the cool breeze blowing through the April morning made me do that. Made me think about seeing more, touching her, even sucking on each of those nipples.

I tingled at the thought, my sex suddenly feeling so exposed in the tight skirt I was wearing and the revealing underwear that I could barely contain my own arousal. That I had become so excited in public while talking to this girl's friends, seemed much more intimate than simply showing myself to anyone simply passing by. Still, I tried to control myself, to pay attention to the conversation.

"Well, we had better go before class begins. If we want to get coffee," Jillian said.

"It was nice meeting you," Paige said.

They held hands as we watched them walk off together.

"So, what do you want to do, Morgan? Should we go get coffee ourselves, or breakfast?"

"I think they have a strict no shoes, no shirt, no service policy," I said.

Sammy laughed.

"You could show me your dorm," she said. "We could surprise your roommate."

"It's a little messy..."

I lied. It was severely messy.

"I don't mind," Sammy said.

She had this way of sort of skipping as she walked. It would not have worked for me as my breasts would have bounced too much, but hers seemed to move in a way that looked choreographed. And I couldn't help but look. If she noticed, she didn't say anything even as I stared up and down her body, permitting myself to wonder what else was underneath. I'd never been below the waist with a girl, but ideas seemed to fly off the shelves in my mind and flutter around the previously empty room in my sexual imagination.

Sam seemed to relish in all the attention, and I kept wishing she would go back to gluing her eyes on my larger breasts. Instead, she seemed to be waiting for some sort of confrontation. Sam was looking for anyone, daring anyone to challenge her.

And no one did.

The reactions of the people around us kind of flowed together as we got used to the attention. Some people were discrete, most people were, it seemed lewder to draw attention to us than to simply allow two women to walk around bare-chested and unaccosted. There was something about social pressure and social stigma that worked together to prevent most from calling too much obvious attention, though there were exceptions. Those who were morally outraged and offended by the sight of something they preferred only to see in darkened rooms illuminated by the soft glow of a computer monitor or in the mirror occasionally as they dressed. There were the frat boys, who elbowed each other as they collectively informed each other of the female nudity.

But mostly it was a see no evil, hear no evil situation. Even as we crossed back over the other side of campus and towards my dorm room, by now the hallways had picked up, and there was something inherently uncomfortable about being so close to people. It was one thing walking down the sidewalk and the many crisscross pathways of the University, being able to be spotted from a distance, and avoided, out of awkwardness or whatever. In the hallways of the dorm, even though we only had to take a few steps instead of the half-mile it was to Harrington, everything seemed more intimate. Every part of us seemed more vulnerable.

I could sense that Sam felt the same way. At first, her hands went up to her breasts, her fingers stretching to cover as much as possible. I reached my hand out, my elbows arched, my palm up in a clear gesture, and Samantha grabbed my hand, gripping me tightly as we walked arm in arm, our hands clenched together as we took the last few steps down the hallway. I unlocked the door, fumbling with the keys, and let her enter first, giving a sigh of relief as I retreated from my public display and into the safety of my single room.

"Sorry, such a mess."

"Oh, so you really weren't kidding about that. Not having a clean bra thing," Sammy said, teasing me as she made herself at home, finding a space on the bed.

I sat next to her.

"Oh yeah, that's the whole reason I decided to go for this tradition. I didn't feel like doing laundry last night so I said fuck it and went topless."

She laughed, a little too hard.

"It's okay," Sam said. "I'm assigned to McLaren Hall, so I have to put up with a neat freak for roommate. I swear I leave one sock out, and we have to have a peace talk with the RA."

"That sucks..."

An awkward silence hung a while before Samantha spoke.

"Okay, so I have no idea what's going on here," Sam said. "So, I'm just going to put it out there; I think you're fucking hot, but it's 8 o'clock in the morning, and I know I look like all seven circles of hell, and I'm sure you're straight."

"Really?" I said. "Because after staring at you on the walkover, I'm not so sure."

"Don't tease..."

"I'm not," I said.

"You know, just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I'm looking to be every girl's experimental phase in college. I've been out since I was sixteen; I'm kind of over the whole bar-sexual college vibe in this town."

It was aggressive. She was aggressive. And I was suddenly taken back. I didn't know what to say for a second, but then something about walking around naked with her, or well nearly naked, gave me the courage to open my mouth and form a few words.

"It's not... I'm not... I didn't mean it like that," I said.

"How did you mean it?" Sam was so serious all of a sudden. And perhaps a little embarrassed as her face was flushed and bright red.

"Look I'm not, or I've never been with a girl before, except kissing," I said. "I mean, I just like you, and I really like your body, and I've never had that feeling before, and I'm not that kind of girl that just goes out and gets drunk and makes out with the first person who is willing to for attention... Well, at least not anymore. I didn't plan to meet anybody today; I've just been a lot more serious about school, and then I found out about this topless thing, and I felt so embarrassed being the only one and-"

I was spiraling. Mercifully, she cut me off.

"It's okay. I get it," she was friendly again. "I didn't me to jump down your throat; Jesus, you must think I'm that crazy dyke."

"I didn't even know you were gay," I said.

"I thought going by Sam might be a hint, but I still feel so new at this. For some girls, it's easy, like everyone can totally tell. It's harder for me, and I end up attracting these girls that are just getting drunk and showing off or want me to join in for a threesome. I mean just because I like girls doesn't mean I'm desperate for any attention."

"I'm sorry that other people have made you feel that way," I said. "I'm not trying to objectify you or anything. Jesus, I'm sorry, I don't really even know what I'm saying. I just haven't really met anyone or made any friends recently and, and well now I just feel so fucking stupid."

"I feel so stupid for being a bitch; I shouldn't have said anything," Sam said. "I mean, clearly you weren't out today to impress anybody."

"I wouldn't say that. It's been a long time since anyone looked. It's nice to be noticed."

"Well, I noticed," Sam said.

"I was just glad you were talking to me like a person, not some weird nympho freak!"

"Then we'll be nympho freaks together."

Her hand grabbed mine again. She looked up into my eyes with an unspoken, unbridled sense of desire, wearing that anticipatory expression right before someone kisses you for the first time. At least, that's what I wanted to imagine in that smile and in those eyes beaming at me from her beautiful face. And I had to say something.

"I do really want to kiss you. I'm sorry that I don't know what that means," I stammered.

"Let's find out," she whispered.

Who moved in more? I want to say me because there was nothing more in that moment that I wanted to do than feel her tender lips pressed against mine. But I can't say that she didn't respond in exactly the same way. There are some kisses made for Hollywood—those that seem practiced and rehearsed, like the one between a bride and groom on their wedding day. The kind that holds back a bit of inhibition.

It wasn't that kind of kiss.

And it wasn't anything like being with a man.

Sam was soft. Gentle. Her hands caressed my bare shoulders, and mine went to the back of her head, my thumb, stroking behind her earlobe. It was the tender embrace and the raw emotion of the first time all mingled into one meaningful masterpiece. The type of thing you can only imagine reading about in a book with some characters that suddenly and immediately feel this connection that seemed impossible.

It was new. Completely and utterly, transcendent and transformative, impulsive and yet intuitive as our lips locked together, our bodies inching closer towards each other. I could feel her tongue dance and flutter against mine, teasing me, making me reach out for more. Giving me the opportunity to back off, to decide that this had been a fun experiment that had run its course. But nothing could keep me from her.

We moved closer against each other. Her breasts pressed against mine, our bodies intertwining as I ran my hands down the small of her back, wondering if I would get to see everything. I didn't pause now to wonder what I wanted or why I had the sudden change. Later, alone, I might wonder what this meant about me, how it affected my future, and what our lives would look like together, but now there was no time for that. Now I was hers, just as she was mine. And as my hand found hers, and placed it gently between my breasts, she reciprocated instantly, inviting me to touch her body.

My fingers explored every inch of her as we kissed, just as hers made their way around my body. I gripped her breasts firmly and then played with each nipple, marveling about how soft and hard they each felt in between the tips of my fingers. I moved my lips away from her, depriving both of us so that I could gently kiss up and down her neck.

She moaned with pleasure and started whispering in my ear.

"Oh God, Morgan you feel so good," she said. "Do you like this?"

"Can't you tell?" I said.

We kissed again, this time quickly as I leaned back against the bed. She moved her mouth down to both of my nipples, working her way from left to right as she sucked each one gently at first. Sam look so petite, her frame so small from that angle against my breasts, able to use her hands and her mouth at the same time, clearly enjoying the size of her new toys.

"Oh my god, I can't believe how big your tits are!"

"Neither can I," I said. "Do you like them?"

"Like them? I love them!" she said. "You can't do this with mine!"

Again, I felt her face in between my breast as her hands moved my nipples back and forth, slapping those weighty orbs against her mouth with glee as she smiled up at me from in between my chest. She was clearly in heaven.

So was I.

I'd known a few guys who had seemed disappointed by my body. Or at least that's how I felt once there wasn't a bra pushing up my cleavage into some ridiculous, implausible masturbatory fantasy for them to enjoy. Don't get me wrong, most of the men spent plenty of time, squeezing, touching and playing with my big boobs, but it wasn't the same as the way Samantha lingered on each of them, gently teasing and touching in a way that I had to believe only a woman could really understand. With her, every curve of my body seemed to somehow stun her, just as every inch of her gave me a jolt of jealousy and desire. It was a reciprocal admiration and desire for the opposite body type, seeping together in such an emotional sexual energy.

She leaned up onto her knees, touching her own nipples as if examining her own breasts and seeing them as unsatisfactory in comparison. That the same thought entered my mind must've seen as obvious to her as it did to me, but I knew to tell her.

"I think your breasts are perfect; I was so jealous of how they look when you walk."

"I would give up my favorite strap-on for another cup size."

"I like your tits just the way they are," I said softly. "And I'd love to see that strap-on."

For some reason, despite everything that we were doing, I suddenly turned shy. I looked down in embarrassment at being so forward.

Her hand went to my chin, pushing it up as I looked down.

"I hope you will," she said. "But I don't want you to feel pressure to go further than you're ready."

"Are you kidding me?" I said, almost pleading.

The thong I was wearing underneath didn't matter to her. She peeled off my orange UT skirt and matching underwear in an instant, grabbing my ass to lift it in the air as she did it. I was so glad I had shaved my pussy into the shape of a small little landing strip. She got most of my clothes off, only pausing as they stopped around my ankles, then I kicked off the rest to join the dirty clothes pile all around my room. Again, she went back up to my mouth, kissing me as her hands worked her way down my breasts, giving a slight pinch to my nipples that made me moan in pleasure.

Her hand reached down, and instead of forcing its way inside my pussy, she gently touched my clit with just her index finger, giving it the gentlest caress before retreating and then coming back. The repeated sensation made me start to move my hips in motion with her hand, my pussy begging for more as she stimulated my clitoris. She sensed me wanting more and increased her pressure, moving circles around the most pleasurable part of my body, which of course she instinctively knew most intimately.

I was breathing heavily. Moaning intermittently. I was cradled up against her, kissing her as she touched me all over, somehow working her small arms all around my body to enjoy every inch of me. Her mouth would kiss mine, and then she would work her way down my neck to my breasts and back up again as I bucked up against her.

And then she was inside of me, her eager finger sliding in between my sex without any resistance. I had been dripping wet all day, and all the stimulation made entering my pussy a task that most men approached with all the subtlety they might apply with a crowbar. With her, it was a painless pleasure that only made me want more. If I had a complaint, it was that I could've taken more than just a finger. Sam had me so turned on; she could have fucked me doggie-style or had me ride her cock like a cowgirl, even played with my ass for all I cared.

That she didn't. That she wouldn't. That to her, my body was an extension of hers, something to be treated with a gentleness and respect only made me want to trust her with every fantasy, with every dark and depraved thought I had ever had. And without even thinking about it, as she worked her fingers inside of me, as she pushed herself deeper and deeper, faster and faster, her finger curling and swirling in the perfect position, I started yelling out.

At first, I was just screaming in pleasure. At this point, my moans would've been noticed probably by the entire hallway, but I didn't care.

In fact, it turned me on to know.

"Oh God, Sam," I breathed out the words just barely. "I wish everyone could see what you are doing to me."

"You like this, huh? You like what I'm doing to you?"

"Oh, fuck yes! And I want everyone to know what I'm doing! I loved showing myself off with the hottest girl on campus all morning, getting turned on by your body, wondering if you would actually do me. And now I can only scream when you make come."

"Your neighbors are going to hear you..."

Her thumb was massaging my clit as she worked herself deeper inside of me.

"Oh fuck! I don't care. Please, baby! Fuck me harder! Make me cum, Sam! I love your body, and I want you to make me cum! I would have let you fuck me in front of the entire class today."

"Mmm... you'd have liked that, huh?"

"Not as much as I like this, Sam," I said, nearly reaching my peak. "Please don't stop, please don't stop. Please! I need it so bad, and I'm so close!"

"Oh God, you look so beautiful right now; I know you can barely keep your eyes open, but please just look at me as you come. Do it, please, for me. "

My eyes fluttered open. I hadn't even realized they'd been closed and didn't even know if I had managed to look at her long enough to make eye contact as her finger pushed me past the edge. It felt like nothing I had ever experienced with any man. No one was asking after if I came because it was obvious. My whole body shook, my pussy simultaneously wanting more yet feeling overstimulated at the same time. My legs closed a little bit around her finger, but she knew to slow down, not to leave my dripping sex alone through this most intimate moment, to keep playing with my pussy until it was over.

And then she kissed me.

Then I knew my eyes were closed.

Her hands caressed my breasts, and that was the right word. She never groped, never awkwardly grabbed, never pulled or pinched except exactly when she needed to, and exactly the right way. She knew my body as only a woman did, and not that I hadn't truly enjoyed the embrace of others, but it would've been wrong to say that the experience was not inherently unique, instinctively intuitive, and immediately, undeniably euphoric.

And it would've been wrong to stop myself from going immediately for more. My hands reached at the buttons of her jeans, fumbling for them to open as she helped me with the task. In seconds, she was naked, and she spread her legs so that I could see a vagina in front of me for the first time and taste one for the first time. She didn't need to ask; she didn't need to beg or plead until I finally let her have her way with me.

I wanted her.

I had to have her.

She wasn't shaved or waxed, but she'd clearly trimmed enough to keep a very slight red bush. Rather than finding it a turn-off, it almost acted as an invitation, a way to feel less nervous about exploring the unknown because I was so curious about exactly how every inch of her sex looked. I spread her legs gently, knowing I didn't need to get her excited; I could taste how wet she was the second I stuck my head in between her legs.

From there, I didn't know quite what to do. I just tried to act like the most successful man I had fucked had done, or what I had wished he had done. I used my tongue gently at first, barely touching her clit, licking up and down in circles just like the way I masturbate when alone in bed. I used my lips to gently kiss hers, to work up and down the bottom half of her body, to kiss and touch her thighs. She tasted so good, so sweet, so much different than me.

And I knew this was me.

Not with every girl. But I wasn't like that for every guy either. But I knew this could never be a one-time thing. I was at least bisexual, and I was at least in lesbians with this girl. There was something special happening, something more than the sensation between her thighs, something that started with our first unusual meeting.

I like liked Sam a lot.

And it took every rational part of my being not to use the other L word as my tongue worked in circles around her pussy.

My lips tugged at her, kissing her harder and harder as she moaned her approval. One of my hands reached up and grabbed her tiny breast, pinching the nipple as she turned and changed direction. She pushed my shoulder down, and I let her direct me so that I was laying on my back. She adjusted again to sit above my face, writhing up and down for a few tormenting seconds so she teased me, my lips and tongue desperately extended to just barely reach her.

And then she moved down. It was clear what she was doing, and I had to raise my body up in order to meet hers. She was so much smaller than me, and I was afraid it wasn't going to work, but we managed, and I could feel her taste my pussy again as I looked up at hers. It was harder this time to have any sort of plan, to do anything but move my tongue as hard as fast as I could. As I connected with my lover's pussy, Samantha seemed to approve. Between my legs. I could hear her moan with ecstasy, especially as I grabbed her ass to push her down harder into me.

She began to thrash on top of me, and I knew she was coming. Her head popped up from my pussy, which was still tingling with its refractory glow, her mouth barely forming the words through pants and deep breaths for air.

"Oh God, Morgan." She barely managed it.

"I know," I said.

We sat up for a second.

"Are you going to be late for class?" Samantha said.

"You know what, for once fuck class," I said. "I can think of something else, someone else to do."

And she laughed at that. Even though she probably shouldn't have.

We spent the rest of the day together and even the night. A real date, a picnic out by Barton's Creek, right when we could see the sunset. Not her idea, not my idea, but something we spoke softly to each other during the middle of the day after a long nap in each other's arms. We held hands, we kissed, and we went back to my tiny, messy, no long miserable dorm and made love again.

She stayed the night.

And when she woke to go home and change before her class, she woke me up with a kiss and told me she would text me all day.

I knew she would.

And I half-expected the phone call to be from her when I heard the buzzing in my pocket. Instead, it was my sister, talking clearly on speakerphone in the car, meaning that I had to wonder if her kids or husband were listening.

"Hey, Morgan," she said. "So, I just realized I forgot to ask about mom's gift. I assume you are going in with me on it... just tell me whatever you want to spend. I know you're a broke college student. I guess I got caught up thinking about that tradition."

"Yeah, me too," I said.

"Wait, what?"

"Well... Maybe it would be better for later,"

"Oh, don't even bother, tell me now. I've just got James in the car, and he's plugged into some video in the backseat. Here, listen. James! Mickey Mouse is dead, and it was the monster under your bed! Never sleep again, never give your parents a chance to have a moment's pea- See you're fine. Now talk, let me live a life vicariously through you."

"Well, you said it was a tradition on April Fool's Day..."

"Oh my God, you didn't!"

"I did!"

"So, they got you, huh?" My sister said giggling.

"What?" I said. "No one got me. I just was the only one who did it. Well, me and this other girl I need to tell you about."

I told her the story. Sam and all, though I left out some more erotic and personal moments. She asked questions occasionally, expressed shock often, and more than once told me she couldn't believe I had done that. But she wasn't judgmental. If anything, she seemed nostalgic and wistful. I wish I could say it was because my sister and I always had the relationship that allowed that level of trust, but that hadn't always been true. I just knew she had plenty of gay and lesbian friends. Plus, Sam wasn't something I want to hide.

But my sister listened. She was excited for me.

"Jesus, Morgan, I'm sorry I thought you knew," she said.

"What?"

"On April Fool's Day, the sophomores usually find some clueless freshman girl to convince that it's topless day on campus. I've heard of girls going outside of their dorm, but most of the time the sophomores want to surprise them at their door."

And that it all was a big mistake; an old trick no longer funny didn't matter.

Because I had met Sam.

I know that sounds stupid, that I suddenly sounded like some lesbian stereotype, immediately head over heels in love, but I knew I was different now. I had met a little more of myself.

"They aren't even doing that anymore. Camera phones I think."

That's too bad," she said. "It was always so fun. I remember how embarrassed I was. So of course, I just relished the idea of doing it to somebody else."

"Well think of it this way, you got the chance to do it one more time," I said, chuckling.

She laughed.

I laughed with her.

"April Fool's, baby sister."