FaceoffChapter 2
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When Sioban asked me if I had a condom, I told her I had enough for the evening. She said, “Enough for the evening?” giving me a smirking smile as if to accuse me of bragging that I was going to fuck her brains out.
It was Colette who told me, “Always wear a condom when you’re having sex with a stranger Arthur. It is more than just birth control; every woman that you shag can be carrying the history of every unprotected penis that has ever been inside her. And every one of those dicks carries the history of each pussy it has ever fucked. It’s sort of like being in a room with mirrors on every wall; the images never stop.”
“I have three of them,” I said.
Her gaze was more of an assessment of me than an indication of how many condoms might be enough. Until a couple of months ago I had carried the same condom for the last three years. I threw it away when the package cracked and leaked the lube solution which left a stain in my Levi’s. All my friends carried one, but I doubted that they had used theirs either. Though I hoped I would have the opportunity to use mine, I never pushed it when I was with a girl. I couldn’t tell Sioban about Colette and that I had only used the condoms she had provided me with. And I didn’t want to tell her that prior to meeting the remarkable airline stewardess I never really needed them. It was Ryan who had reached into his drawer and given me the three condoms “Just in case” when he found out about my date and offered to vacate the room.
It was almost as if she were calculating our timetable perhaps thinking something like let’s see, maybe it will take fifteen minutes before he fucks me if I am lucky, and another twenty to twenty-five before he can get hard again. If he stays hard longer because he is not as sensitive as before. Maybe that will be another twenty minutes. It would probably be twenty-five minutes to a half-hour before he could get hard again. Another fuck could last another twenty to twenty-five minutes. All in all, an hour and a half of lovemaking and fucking would clip my horns for at least a week or so
“You’re an unusual bloke Yank,” she said. You seem to have a curious mixture of more experience than I would have expected and nothing at all.” She laughed. “And you make claims about your ability with such pure innocence that it’s incredibly endearing.” Taking my hand, she gave me a leering smile and chuckled before saying, “Take me to your den tiger.”
Picking up the pace to the residence hall I couldn’t help laughing which triggered giggles of her own. We were like two kids coming home from grade school. She exhibited no embarrassment as we walked into the lobby. Sioban’s comfort level put me completely at ease. No sooner had the door closed when she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with her mouth wide open thrusting her tongue into my mouth. Panting and writhing it seem that she was hungry enough to devour me. The way her body quaked made me think her knees were on the verge of collapse. Putting my left foot between her two feet to steady us I clutched each cheek of her bottom and pushed my thigh tightly into her groin. She captured my leg between hers and forcefully squeezed them together. The positive connection between my thigh and her clitoris allowed her to rub it between my leg and her pubic bone. “OH GAWD,” she gasped while riding my thigh like a strip club pole.
Thanks to Colette I understood this college girl’s climax but was amazed that it was happening so quickly. No sooner had I congratulated myself though I was experiencing a new sensation as I felt the strange wetness wicking through the fabric of her panties, skirt, and my Levi’s which made me wonder if she were peeing her pants instead.
“Oh MY,” she said, holding on to me like she dreaded what she had done. “I’m so SORRY.”
Having never experienced anything like this before I didn’t know what to say much less what to do. But I had prior knowledge of what it could be. Once, in high school, I was out with an upperclassman whose dad had a large 4-door sedan. There were eight of us in the car, we had just gone to a football game. Two boys and two girls were in the back seat. Two boys and two girls were in the front seat but because of the steering wheel and the stick shift on the floor only three people could sit on one seat. Prudence Farrell sat on Frankie’s Roache’s lap. We were at a drive-in restaurant and had just ordered milkshakes. Frankie started tickling Prudence. She giggled and twisted while trying to make him stop. We were all laughing so much that our laughter got out of control. In disgust, Frankie said, “God damn it something’s leaking on my lap.” Prudence started crying, which led to her becoming known as “Peepee Pru,” a sobriquet that would follow her through high school.
In trying to explain away my embarrassment with Sioban I told her about Peepee Pru. she said, “I DID NOT. This is something entirely different.” She was both embarrassed and angry, her feelings had been hurt.
Having just undergone the marvelous experience of helping trigger Sioban’s orgasm I crashed into the depths of dread when I realized how hurtful my unthinking comment had been to her. I was not totally soaked, most of it still being held in the fabric between us. But I felt uncomfortable with the amount of urine I thought my pants had absorbed. I was sure that she was even more uncomfortable and concerned about how she was going to get back to her housing with such a wet skirt and panties smelling of piss. Though I tried to make amends by hugging her she kept pushing me away. “How is it different?” I asked in as respectful a voice as I could muster.
She strained to say, “Most girls get wet when they climax. A few, like me, get extremely wet. And some, again like me, when we get really excited can actually squirt.” She went on, “I didn’t fully realize that I was THAT excited Arthur, but I just couldn’t hold back what happened,” as an afterthought, she murmured in dismay.
Not knowing what to say I hugged her more tightly. She was embarrassed and tried pushing me away. I had hurt her feelings by jumping to a conclusion that was easy to be wrong about. Thinking back, I remembered how when I ate Colette’s pussy for the first time she came and got substantially wetter. It was like a surge, but not a flooding surge of liquid that had leaked into my mouth. Before learning how elegant her vagina felt and tasted, I know I would have been turned off at the idea of having my mouth on such a gushing pussy. When it happened though, I became more excited and eager to lick her excess secretions away. When I commented to Colette about how wet she got when she came, she said, ‘That’s nothing Arthur some women actually squirt.’”
Sioban’s was more of a dilemma. “And if I walk through the lobby with that stuff still on my dress and panties I’ll smell like a bordello on the hoof.”
In the quandary of having Sioban put off by my boyish naivety, I knew that I tried for some kind of concession. “I’ll take your things into the bathroom and rinse them out.” The student quarters had upper and lower beds, two study desks, and two large wardrobes. The lounge had a kitchenette with two separate bathrooms at the end of the wall where the bedrooms were. Reaching into my wardrobe I produced a cotton laundry bag and held it out to her. She took the bag, reached up into her dress, and stripped her panties putting them into the bag. She then reached behind her, unbuttoned, and unzipped her skirt, then let it drop the floor before picking it up and putting it into the bag. While she was holding the bag out to me, I caught an oblique view of her body naked from the waist down. I noticed the contrast of her white skin against her red, curly bush. But wanting to get the clothes into the bathroom and get them rinsed as quickly as possible I didn’t permit myself to stare.
When I left the room Sioban standing in the room she had a perplexed smirking look on her face. She gave me no indication whether she might stay or just get into her wet panties and skirt and leave. In the bathroom I turned the water on in the basin, let it get warm then saturated the panties and squeezed out the water, and soaked them again. I squeezed as much water out as I could then rolled them into a towel and twisted it tight then stood on it. With the skirt, I put the wet spot directly under the faucet and saturated the area that shadowed the fabric then squeezed out the water, saturated it again, and squeezed harder. Finally, I rolled the skirt into a large bath towel blotted out as much wetness as I could.
Going back to the room I was pleasantly surprised to see Sioban stretched out under the sheet on Ryan’s lower bunk—climbing up into mine would have been extremely impractical. Her shoes were placed under the bed and her top and bra were folded neatly beside them. Her head was on the pillow facing me and her arm was under the pillow in a kind of hug. “I’m sorry Arthur,” she said in such a demure way, “my pussy is a fickle thing. You’re a quick thinker by the way coming up with the idea of rinsing them out and wrapping them in a towel that way.” Giggling girlishly, she continued, “The cool sheets felt nice on my naked body and kind of calmed me down,” rolling her eyes in a flirtingly apologetic way
When I held up the bag and took out the towels that were drawing moisture from the fabric of her garments she said, “Just put them on the floor and step hard on them with your feet, your bodyweight will squeeze out more moisture. Then you can take them out of the towels and hang them over the wardrobe doors.” The way she smiled told me that she dealt easily with setbacks. She appeared totally relaxed. “Depending on the amount of time we spend in bed,” she went on, “if my panties aren’t dry, we can put them in the microwave. A couple of minutes there will give me hot pants he-he.”
There was no dishonesty in this girl. She was open when she first asked me for coffee, open about why she had shied away from asking me the second time and open about wanting to be alone with me when she asked me to the movies. While she might have taken offense when I accused her of urinating on me, she did not answer me as if she were angry or hurt. She merely explained the strange circumstance of what some of her orgasms could cause her to do. Here she was under the covers waiting for me to make the next move.
I had envisioned that when we originally entered the room we would kiss, and fondle then eventually be getting naked. The question in my mind was should I take her clothes off; would she help take mine off or would she just take off her own clothes? The circumstances answered the question from a different perspective; she was already naked under the sheet. Feeling like I would be on display I tentatively took off my clothes. In the process, I thought I should probably get a towel in case she “squirts” again.
It was like she had read my thoughts when she said, “There was a bath towel hanging from the rail at the end of the bed—I am assuming I’m in your roommate’s bed. I spread it out underneath me and I’m lying on it.” She gave me an affirming smile then added, “I hope you’re not going to take all night to get your clothes off Arthur.”
In the stress of the “crisis,” my cock had gone limp. But since seeing her in the bed it was well on its way to an erection. When I dropped my trousers and stepped out of them Sioban’s eyes captured the bulge in my tighty-whities and she mirthfully said, “You could be a ballet dancer Arthur. That looks like a sock stuffed in there. Every guy thinks his cock is the biggest thing in the world,” but her comment affirmed what Colette had said. Trying not to appear obvious I unconsciously put my tongue in my cheek as I took off my underwear. The head of my penis caught in the waistband and recoiled, slapping my stomach before settling at a sixty-degree angle.
As her eyes riveted my groin she exclaimed “CRIKEY’S, get over here so I can see if that Willie close up. Or are my eyes deceiving me?”
I knew Sioban was a forward girl when she asked me for coffee then asked me to the cinema where she had signaled that she wanted intimacy. She was the one who put her hand on my thigh. It wasn’t really a sexual thing for me when we first met, I took an instant liking to her. She was sociable and intellectually engaging in a way like she was a younger version of Colette, perhaps the kind of woman that for whatever reason was attracted to a male like me. And like the randy airline stewardess she made it plain that she both enjoyed playing and that her intentions to play with me were right on the surface. I was too young to get involved in a serious romantic situation with a girl and so far, had never been bitten by the lovebug. So, I was looking forward to the sexual knowledge Colette said she was prepared to teach me. And in this new and unfamiliar position, I was standing naked beside my roommate’s bed with a pranging boner thinking, my parents could not have given me any better opportunity to learn some valuable life lessons.
When I got close enough to the edge of the bed Sioban’s hand shot out from beneath the sheet and grabbed hold of my shaft. Sitting up she pulled me closer. With her feet on the floor and her red ponytail dangling off the side of her neck she brushed me with the areola of what appeared to be her C-cup breast. She inspected my penis a specimen in an anatomy class. Opening her hand, she formed a platform analytically hefting my balls while pinching the circumcision scar and lifting my erection to inspect the bottom of my shaft. Moving it up, down, and sideways she took in its totality. “PERFECT,” she said, her green eyes looking up into mine. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of here Arthur.” When the crystal bead of precum appeared in my slit she dipped slightly, extended her tongue, and like a frog catching a fly, snapped it into her mouth. “Mm, this is so HOT. It’s like nectar from the gods Arthur, Mm, mm, MMM.”
With tingling balls, I look into Sioban’s eyes which were staring at the end of my cock, her face so close that I could feel the warm air from her open mouth and the breath from her nostrils washing the top of my glans. When her head moved forward my knob disappeared inside her face. Closing her lips behind the rim I winced, and my knees grew weak. Putting my hands on her head to steady myself, she looked up at me with the expression one would see on a gourmand’s face trumpeting the taste of delicious food. For the first time in my short relationship with Sioban O’Neal, I realized that sex was more than just a pleasant experience for her, it was something she practiced and savored. Colette Bentley flashed through my mind. I wondered if sex with her started as early as it had with Sioban. How long might she have been doing this? And how had she gotten started?
Half of my seven-inch organ disappeared into Sioban’s head where she pushed the envelope, and my glans dented the back of her throat. When she gagged. I found it wickedly exciting. Adjusting from the site of her gag reflex she pulled back and bobbed a half dozen times. As she pulled off, she looked up at me with spit stretching from my head to her lips she grasped the base of my shaft and said, “Oh Arthur I do so LOVE this. Isn’t the human body a MARVELOUS thing?” With her other hand, she pressed my turgid penis against her cheek in an adoring cuddle. “I’m OVERWHELMED with sex Arthur; I just LOVE it.”
Having always been timid with women I was beginning to realize that I could have had more sexual experience had I been less of a wimp. The girls I had been out with had been off-putting, but I was beginning to understand that their resistance to my weak advances was just an act to show propriety. It was like high school cheerleaders at an athletic competition where, when the home fans started booing the opposing players, they shook their heads to discourage the boos but waved their hands behind their backs to keep the booing alive. It finally hit me that the girls were resisting but on the other hand, they were encouraging me to, “Fondle my breast,” or “put your finger inside my pussy” or even “fuck me.”
I thought about how Colette had singled me out when she walked on the plane and how Sioban approached me the first day of class. It would have been easier to understand had she at least been a first-year student. But she was a SOPHOMORE, two years my senior. I knew how young I looked but with the confidence, Colette had instilled in me I was feeling more comfortable than Sioban, who had just taken my cock into her mouth, had me wondering how these two phenomenal events happened within days of each other. Having heard the term “charmed-life” I wondered if I might be living one. And there was the question are English women more sexual than the American females I know? And do women like Colette and Sioban love sex so much just see me as a pliable teenager. Or maybe they think I have charisma, a term I had just learned. Whatever, I hoped that when I returned to the states, I would be more confident with women there due to my experience in England.
As she licked my scrotum I was still questioning its validity. Why do women like doing this? The question brought my mother to mind and I cursed myself for imagining her in Sioban’s place. In a fit of self-discipline, I was able to at least change my presence to that of my father, which opened the door of possibility regarding my mother and fellatio. Am I some kind of creep to be thinking like this?
Sioban was on her feet again kissing me, capturing my prominence between her legs, and sliding her wet pussy on the top of it, her red pubic curls meshing into mine and tickling me. Hugging me she flattened her soft breasts against my chest, gazed into my eyes, pecked my lips, rubbed the tip of her nose on mine and said, “Thank you Arthur for taking care of my clothes.”
I started to answer but when she took my lower lip between hers, I never got the words out of my mouth. She suckled my lower lip then segued to a passionate open-mouth kiss where we reveled in more tongue-twisting titillation. With her hand cupping the cheek of my bare bottom she pulled me tight, tensing her butt and legs while pushing her pubic bone hard against mine. As she broke the kiss, she murmured in my ear, “The moment I saw you in class Arthur I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” She was certainly saying things I wanted to hear but didn’t know how to handle her adulation. “The way you looked at me coming into the room that day, the way your eyes were locked onto mine with such hunger I could have let you take me on the floor. You’re a very sexual fella you know?” Wild caresses amid labored breathing and impassioned kisses formed a lake of saliva behind my teeth. “Take me to bed Arthur,” Sioban said with a giggle, “I have to find out if you are as good as I think you are.”
My night on the plane and my day with Colette was a crash course in sexuality during which I could have had no better tutor. Not only had she told me what to do she showed me then stressed pointers for improvement as she was doing it. Before our encounter, the only clues I had about sex were fantasies in my mind to which I masturbated. But it was clear that Sioban was no novice, she was more than sexually aware. She was a sexually practiced young woman. Even with the advantage of Colette’s mentoring I was baffled why Sioban chose me. If it might have had anything to do with sexual magnetism that was still a myth in my mind.
I knew what she meant by taking her to bed (“fucking”). But she could not have expected a seventeen-year-old, even having enjoyed such a sexual odyssey with Colette taking me on to satisfy her in the way in more sophisticated ways she must have grown accustomed to. I was eager to revisit some of the things Colette had drilled into me though. So, taking both of Sioban’s hands I sat her down on the edge of the mattress, dropped to my knees, vacuumed our shared saliva from her chin while tenderly caressing her breast then lowered my lips to her right nipple, sucking it between my moistened lips. Kissing her eyelids and the tip of her nose I pecked her lips with mine as I began rolling both nipples between my fingers and thumbs. “Not too hard at first,” I remembered Colette saying. As I rolled them back and forth, I gradually increased pressure. I knew that Sioban was prepared to caution me, “More gently please,” just as Colette had done. But the look in her eyes told me that she was surprised and even excited at what I was doing and how I was doing it.
When I gave the left nipple a quick, hard pinch followed by a syncopated pinch of her right nipple she gasped, “Oh YES.” I did it the way Colette had me do hers. She seemed just as surprised as I had been with Colette when she had acted so keenly when I picked it up so quickly. Though I was proud of myself for conquering my timidity and acting on something I was not sure this college sophomore would welcome in the same way, when she said, “I’m AMAZED that you knew what that would do to me.” Giving me a long, appraising gaze, she added, “You’ve been with an older woman Arthur haven’t you.”
She was right. Maybe I should have shared my experiences with her about Colette Bentley. But at the time, it was about getting to know each other well enough to develop trust about the kind of sex that we could enjoy in the moment. I have to say that her response to having her nipples pinched this way made me feel like a real stud. The boost I felt in confidence made me ready to put my mouth on another female’s pussy.
Once I got over my gaffe regarding Sioban’s squirting I was eager to assert myself in at least a quasi-dominant way. “Lay back on the bed Sioban,” I said in as confident a manner as I could muster. When complied and went for the center of the bed I said, “No sweetie (these endearing terms were coming easier for me) just keep your bottom on the edge of the mattress and lay your back on the bed while keeping your feet on the floor. She surprised me at how compliantly she reacted. it brought a more relaxed attitude to both of us. The pressure was no longer on Sioban to guide me, the ball was in my court.
Crouching between her parted legs I coaxed her to open them wider. Grasping her ankles, I raised her legs in the air which allowed me to see her splayed vulva. As I checked her reaction, I saw an “Oh wow” kind of grin. From my experience with Colette, I found how quickly and how much I loved eating pussy. Now it was a matter of me, but it was not the time to hesitate. So, with the “rare-meat” pinkness of her open pussy glistening at me I went for the gusto and covered the whole thing with my gaping mouth. “Oh YES Arthur,” she yelled, “I LOVE it,” making my confidence jump another notch.
Lapping her spongy, pink femininity I realized that her scent was somewhat muskier than Colette’s, heavier and more “womanly,” a “gypsy-like” taste that made me wonder if all women with red hair might smell that way. But we are always grasping at generalities. We were both excited but Sioban’s excitement with my mouth on her pussy energized me most. She sighed in pleasured surprise as her body writhed in appreciation of my gift. Imagine, I thought, TWO PUSSIES in just one week! Chuckling to myself I thought that less than a week ago the thought of doing something such as this would have disgusted me.
While spreading her pussy I could not miss the size of her “clitoris,” a word I had only been familiar with for a few days. It reminded me of a large lima bean, appearing almost swollen. When I flicked it with my tongue her body jerked as she mouthed a sibilant shudder. Skating my tongue-tip on the prominence of her oversized node caused her body to gyrate as she emitted a “yes, yes,” kind of moaning.
Feeling totally in control I caressed her breasts, alternately rolling her nipples and making faux pinches to stir the suggestion of pain. My tongue skirted between and around each labium, coursing her slippery groove and plumbing the threshold of her core as deeply as I could make it fit. Working the sheath of her clitoris I rolled it back enough from the protected covering to trigger shocks that made her twitch. Flattening my tongue on the bean-like bump I raked it with the rough unevenness of my taste buds. With her increased wetness I complimented myself for increasing her pleasure. I pinched her right nipple with a quick, crushing pinch which made her body tighten as increased wetness swamped her groove.
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