My junior year in college the first time I was in school started out poorly. I had been repeatedly ill the first two years, one semester with pneumonia and bronchitis, another semester with mono, and a third semester with a recurrence of bronchitis, and my latest set of courses were more than I could handle after my work had suffered so my first two years. Finally I decided I should take some time off to recuperate and earn some money so I could do better on my return and arranged to leave school in mid-November. Socially I had been very reserved while I was there, just busy as hell and worn out, and had managed to have one lover for a few months my second year, which lasted until she graduated, which meant I had had a total of three lovers.

A couple of days before I was set to leave, I was walking back to my dorm room from the library--I had spent my two free weeks reading some old mysteries when I wasn’t taking care of travel plans and paperwork. It was a little after noon, and I was relaxing as I digested a small lunch I’d gotten on the way to the library. Someone called my name, and I looked up to see my friend Anna, a hot blonde history major who often had chatted with me, about to enter the door to her entryway.

We had met the first time in line when registering for our second semester; she had been just ahead of me in line, and when our eyes met she smiled and said, “Slowest line in town,” and I’d immediately contradicted her, “No, the post office is longer,” and after that she seemed to enjoy the fact that I never just went along to get along (or to get in her pants or good graces) when chatting.

“So you’re leaving soon,” she said, and I nodded. “Let me give you a goodbye drink,” she said, and I readily agreed.

We went up to her room, which I had never been in before, and after she poured each of us a small glass of whiskey (yes, children, that was a more civilized time when 20-year-olds could legally buy liquor), we sat on the couch. She asked me about my travel plans and my future work plans, and then we listened to one of her albums (she already had an excellent jazz collection at age 20; I didn’t appreciate it enough then but envy her now) as we sipped our drinks. When it finished, she went to the record player and asked if I had any requests.

“What do you have?”

“Come take a look,” she said with a smile and led me by the hand to her albums. We looked through them as she told me about her favorites, and she settled on Hank Mobley’s Workout, which she’d just gotten recently and wanted to play for me since it was so good. She refreshed our drinks and sat down next to me, her left arm against my right, and leaned back with her eyes closed. After the first track, she said, “Mmmm,” and I asked her how she learned about jazz.

“My parents.” After a second she added, “My first lover.”

Afraid of making a wrong move, I avoided the obvious line of questioning and asked, “And who was his favorite?”

She smiled to herself and said, “It was either Bix Beiderbecke or Sun Ra.”

“I don’t know either,” which made her laugh.

“Good for you. If you said you loved them, I’d know you were lying.”

A bit lost, I said, “Okay, whatever,” and she laughed again and shook her head.

“No,” she continued, “he was a big West Coast fan. Dave Brubeck and Chet Baker mostly.”

“What about you?”

“The Duke’s my man.”

“Ellington?”

“You’re not a complete square at least. Of course Ellington.”

“Who else?”

“Hard bop. The harder the better.”

“Like who?”

She smiled, “Like this guy. Lee Morgan too. And Dexter Gordon should serenade me some evening; I’d cook him breakfast.”

We laughed and she put her head on my shoulder, so I lifted my arm and she put it over her shoulders and settled into my side. She asked me, “How about your parents, what do they listen to?”

“A bunch of soft rock from the 60s and 70s. Makes my ears vomit, most of it, after hearing it all the time growing up. My mother likes country now, and not the good stuff. My father likes some classical. Surprising some of the stuff he recognizes, like Walter Piston.”

“Who?”

“American composer. Wrote a lot in the 40s and 50s. My father’s the only other person I’ve ever met who has even heard of him, and I only know that because he knew some music I was listening to. Strange.”

She laughed. “And what about your old girlfriends, what did they listen to?”

“First one liked classical, like me, and top 40. Second was a country and western cowgirl. Third didn’t really like music.”

She sat up facing me, “Didn’t like music? Didn’t like life, you mean. Bet she was frigid.”

“No, she was great.”

She smiled knowingly and said, “I don’t believe you.”

I shrugged and said, “That’s fine.”

She shook her head and sat back down next to me. We chatted more about music until the first side of the album ended. She went to turn it over and said, “Pour us another one.”

I did so and took hers to her as she stood in front of the record player. She looked me in the eye and raised her glass, “Farewell. Have a safe trip and a bright future.”

I said thank you and we clinked glasses, and after she took a sip she set it down and hugged me. I looked down at her and finally knew there was no chance of mistaking her intention and kissed her. She opened her lips as soon as mine touched hers and sucked my tongue into her mouth; as she devoured my mouth with her kisses, I let my hands roam over her torso. She pulled away and looked at me coyly, “Come with me,” and led me to her bed behind a screen in the corner.

We quickly undressed each other as we stood kissing, and she sat down on the bed and lay back. I knelt between her legs and kissed her light brown thatch, and as she gasped I began licking her lips. “No, what? I haven’t washed, you don’t have to...,” she said, but I kept licking. “It’s been a long morning, wait...” then after a couple of minutes she began to moan, “Yes,” and soon came.

I sat up between her knees and she relaxed; I pushed her knees apart again and said, “I like seeing you, all of you.”

She smiled and said, “I have rubbers in my night stand. Wash your face so I can kiss you,” she added.

When I came back from the sink, she had pulled out a condom. We kissed and played with each other’s body until I was fully hard and she rolled the condom over me and lay back. I regretfully left off playing with her breasts, which were a little small, firm, and beautiful, creamy white with pink nipples and aureoles, and slowly entered her. “Yes,” she sighed and pulled me down to her. She kissed me deeply and soon lay beneath me with her head back, occasionally opening her green eyes to watch me working above her, then closing them with a gasp.

After a couple of minutes I focused on the business at hand. I rocked fore and back inside her as she thrust up against me, moaning quietly as she built towards another climax, and after ten minutes she pulled me tight and groaned. I then quit holding back and rode her fast and hard but came just before she came again. I caught my breath for a minute as I took off the condom and then plunged back between her legs, licking her clit and running a finger inside of her; she climaxed hard and long in less than a minute and pulled me up beside her.

She hesitated for a moment as I tried to kiss her, but quickly yielded and kissed me deeply. After a few minutes we lay holding each other and she asked, “Was it good?”

“Very good.”

“Was I your best?”

“You’re a semi-finalist,” I said, grinning evilly, and she swatted my arm with a laugh and curled up closer to me.

I leaned over to kiss her again, but she turned her mouth aside. “Wipe your face.”

I got up and washed quickly and came back as she got up to put on a new record, and she held out her arms and pulled me to her when I came back to bed. I kissed her and played with her breasts, and as I sucked on her nipples she ran her hands through my hair. Soon we started talking and she asked me about my other lovers.

At one point she laughed and said, “So she wasn’t frigid?”

“I told you she wasn’t. She even liked kissing me after I went down on her.” She laughed and I added, “And she loved to go down on me all the time.”

She shook her head, “Sorry, not my scene.”

“Why sorry? She has her style, you have yours.”

She smiled and looked at my cock. “You’re almost ready, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Lie down. It’s my turn.”

She kissed me and stroked me as I played with her breasts until I was fully hard. She unwrapped another condom and put it on me, then crouched above me and lowered herself onto me. She rode me with a solid rhythm and quickly found the angles she liked best. She had another quick orgasm after ten minutes. She then got up and turned around and rode me with her left hand on my knee and her right hand on her clit until I grabbed her hips and thrust up into her. We climaxed together and she lay back down beside me. We napped for a few minutes and then she bid me farewell. I asked, “Can I see you tomorrow?”

She shook her head and said, “This is good-bye.”

I nodded, kissed her farewell, and left. When I returned to my dorm room, I went for a quick shower and then looked at my to-do list. I had shipped off the last of all my big stuff the day before and only had personal belongings for the plane and school furniture left in y room. I had to return a few things I had borrowed from three of my friends, so I put them all in a bag and went around to say good-bye after dinner. After two hours I came to the last of my friends to visit, Lilly, a Taiwanese biology student. I knocked on her door and waited, and suddenly she said “Hey” behind me. She wore a robe; her hair was in a towel and she had a few toiletries in a bag.

“Returning your records,” I said, and she unlocked the door and invited me in. We sat and chatted, and after fifteen minutes she got up to hang up her towel. Her hair was partly wet, shoulder-length and glossy black, and as she walked to the radiator to hand out her towel, she stepped over her cello, which she had out in the corner to practice (she was a cellist in the student orchestra).

“Here,” she said, “let me play something for you.” She had me sit on the edge of her bed and took the chair (she had a small room with little furniture; those were the only two places to sit), and she hiked up her robe almost to her hips and held the cello between her legs suggestively. She then played the solo part of the first movement of Elgar’s Cello Concerto as she stared into my eyes. I caught several wrong notes but made no sign, while she bit her lip each time.

When she finished, she put the cello down beside the chair but left her robe hitched up. She was naked under her robe and almost fully exposed. She leaned back a little and kept looking me in the eyes, and I stood up, walked over to her, and pushed her robe further up to see all of her flushed lips and fairly thin patch of hair. She kissed me and whispered, “Why didn’t you ever do this sooner?”

“Scared.”

“Silly, I’m not scary.”

“All real women are scary.”

She laughed and swatted my chest lightly, “Silly.”

I kissed her and ran the fingertips of my right hand along the insides of her thighs, starting at her left knee and around to her right knee and back. In the middle of each pass my fingers passed through her pubic hair a little lower each time. After the fifth pass I started massaging her mount and worked my fingers down to her lips. She sucked my tongue harder and nibbled my lip, and then kissed along my jaw to my ear as my fingers spread her lips and worked inside her.

I pulled away and held out my hands to her. She stood up and dropped her robe and helped me undress. She sat on the edge of the bed. I pushed her back and lay above her; she was hot and breathing fast. I kissed her deeply and squeezed and rubbed her small breasts as she moved rhythmically underneath me, and then I began kissing my way down her jaw to the side of her neck, then to her throat and down to her breasts. I had been running my fingertips leisurely along her slit, but now I pushed them firmly against her and began kissing down to her navel.

I felt her rise onto her elbows and looked up to see her watching me. I kissed further down and soon reached her pubic hair. With a sigh and a chuckle because of my already-sore jaw, I looked up again and saw she was still watching me. I licked her clit and she blinked rapidly, and I began kissing it and licking her lips. She sighed and leaned back. I continued working her and within a minute she boiled over and screamed in pleasure as her pussy thrust hard against my face.

I lay down beside her and said, “You taste great.”

“I wondered if you’d actually do that.”

“I love doing that.”

“Why can’t Chinese men do that?”

“Sounds to me like you just have shitty taste in men.”

She laughed and said, “Maybe.”

“Or you just don’t do a good job training them.”

She laughed again. “You really like that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Well, I can feel everything as it happens. I like feeling a woman cum. And besides, a woman’ll do anything I ask afterwards.”

She laughed and said, “Maybe. What do you want me to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“No, what do you want?”

“Return the favor?”

“Maybe.”

I chuckled and lay down next to her and kissed her as she rubbed my cock. “Aren’t you excited?” she asked.

I wasn’t quite stupid enough to say I’d cum twice with another woman just a few hours before, so I just said, “I’m a little tired. And depressed. Having to leave.”

She frowned sympathetically and said, “Maybe I will then. Will you like that?”

“You’ll be my friend forever.”

“I’m already your friend forever.”

She sat up and stroked me. I rolled over onto my back as she leaned over and kissed my cock. She closed her eyes and licked around it. After a few minutes I sat up and said, “Here,” and pulled her around so we were 69ing. I held her hips and moved her pussy up and down across my lips to let my jaw rest a little. At the same time she stroked my shaft while sucking lightly on the head. Soon I told her I was close and she stroked faster. The first spurt pulled a coughing sound from her; the rest of my cum shot off all over her neck and chest. She lay down next to me and rubbed my cum over her breasts and laughed, “It’ll make me grow.” I laughed too and she pulled a towel out from under the mattress.

After she wiped off all my cum, she curled up on top of me and looked down at me. “Good?”

“Great.”

“Did I make you happy?”

“Very happy.”

“Will you be able to do it again?”

“In a while.”

“Good,” she said, and I pulled up on her under her armpits until she was sitting up and then pulled on her hips until she got my intention and sat on my face. She grabbed my head with her right hand and steadied herself against the headboard with the other. I sucked quickly and she came after a couple of minutes, small and tight, and lay down next to me.

“You really like that,” she said, and I nodded. “Why didn’t you try me earlier? I’d have said yes.”

“I was stupid.”

“Yes you were,” she said and kissed me. We lay there talking, and at one point she asked, “Did you like my records?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think?”

“I’d say you really like crazy erotic music.” She had lent me, among other discs, recordings of Rimsky-Korsakoff’s Antar Suite and Franck’s Piano Quintet, and I was pretty sure the selection was intentional.

She laughed, “That’s why I lent them to you.”

“I’d heard them before.”

“Then why’d you borrow them?”

“Different recordings.”

She laughed again, “I figured you were sweet on me after you lent me the Chausson.”

“Yes, you read me right.”

“So I made a little hint.”

“And when I didn’t immediately take it...”

“I gave you a bigger hint.” She giggled, “God, I felt like such a slut, but I wanted to know yes or no before you left.”

Eventually I was hard again. She stroked and kissed me as I rubbed her lips, and when she was ready she reached under the mattress and pulled out a condom.

“What all do you have under your mattress?” I asked with a chuckle.

“My sex towel, my rubbers, like that.”

“Your sex towel?”

“What am I supposed to call it? ‘Stud-muffin cum rag’?”

I laughed, “I just meant it’s neat you automatically keep a towel there for sex.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I like sex.”

“Nothing wrong with it. It’s just...”

“Because I’m a Chinese girl?” she asked coyly.

“No, it’s just that...you never expect a woman will be exactly like she is.”

She nodded, “Ah, I see. Yeah, like I didn’t think you’d like eating pussy.”

“Well, I guess it’s the same.”

I put on the condom and rose above her. She reached down and guided me in and held me as I stroked back and forth. The lovemaking lasted for about 20 minutes, during which she climaxed three times, the last time setting off my last orgasm of the day. I lay back exhausted, sore in several muscles besides my penis. She got up to turn out the light, then she pulled her sheet and blanket over us and we slept until dawn.

When I woke up, I was hard again. She giggled and asked, “Will you suck me again?”

I arranged us side by side to 69 and started licking her with gusto; fortunately, my jaw was rested. She licked my head and stoked the shaft, and as she became more turned on she opened her mouth and took me as far inside as she could. Soon she lay back and pulled me above her. I held my self steady, knees bent so that she could take as much of me comfortably in her mouth as she wished. I sucked and licked her cunt vigorously, and she relaxed her jaw and pulled me inside. After a few minutes my body stiffened up and I spewed a small load into her mouth, probably four small but satisfying spurts, which she managed to swallow. I kept licking and running my fingers inside her until she came hard.

“I’m done for the day,” I said. “You’ve drained me.”

She chuckled and said “Yay, me!”, and we laughed.

We went for breakfast. When she left for class, she kissed me goodbye and told me to write. “You don’t want me to come tonight?” I asked.

“No, we’ve said good-bye,” she said sadly. “I’ll miss you.”

I spent the morning visiting professors to say farewell and went back to my dorm room after lunch. Having nothing to do there, I walked around before dinner, and after dinner decided to relax and turn in early. I was considering taking a shower when someone knocked on my door. It was one of the women living in my entryway, Leah, a senior who had a reputation as somewhat devout, but who also had one of the most virtuoso grasps of obscene language I had ever heard.

She was a blue-eyed redhead with curves. I invited her in and she smiled, “Sure!” We started talking and after checking about my travel plans she asked, “Where were you? I stopped by last night to offer you a drink, but you were out. All night, I think.”

“I was...saying good-bye.”

“I’m sure you were. Want a drink?”

“I’d love one.”

“Wine okay?”

“Perfect.”

We walked to her room and she poured us some wine. She lit a couple of candles and turned off the main light, then walked over to her night stand and turned on her reading lamp. She sat down next to me to toast me, and after finishing her wine asked, “So, did you say farewell to lots of women?”

I looked at her, “A few.”

“Are you all packed?”

“Yes.”

“It’d be a shame to get your sheet dirty just for one night. Stay here.”

I choked on my wine and said, “So you can get them dirty instead? At least they’ll smell better.”

She smiled quietly and said, “You know what I mean.”

I kissed her and soon had her shirt off. Her breasts were large and white with freckles, and her lacy bra lifted them into a deep valley in which her silver cross rested. I asked, “Do you often get cum on this?” and pointed at her cross.

She reached behind her neck and took off the necklace. “It’s happened before. Why do guys want to get cum on the symbol of my faith? It’s rude.”

“So they’ve done it before.”

“Yes, one guy pulled out of my mouth just before he came and actually aimed at it, and another guy made me wear it while he fucked my tits, like I wanted to have to clean that off my cross afterwards.”

“So did you like it otherwise?”

“With my breasts? No. It’s rough. It chafes my skin. There’s not enough lube in the world to make it pleasant for me.”

I continued kissing her and soon had her bra off. Her breasts spilled out into my hands and I played with them and kissed them for ten minutes or so. Leah whispered, “Let’s go to bed.” She stood up before me and I unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans; she pulled her jeans and panties off and watched me as I looked at her thick red patch of hair. I leaned in and kissed her belly as I caressed her hips, then ran my fingers down to her knees and up the sides of her thighs. She spread her plump thighs slightly and I licked close to her clit.

She turned around and walked to her bed and I quickly undressed and joined her. We quickly settled into a vigorous 69 and made each other cum within ten minutes. She was expert at the art and easily swallowed each spurt; I pushed her onto her back and brought her off hard a few minutes later.

We lay there afterwards and I asked her, “Why did you sleep with me?”

“You’re leaving. I wanted to say good-bye.”

“In this way?”

“Yes, as a farewell.”

“Would you have slept with me otherwise?”

“No.”

“But why?”

“No complications. I think you’re kind of sexy, but we’re too different to make a good couple, you know. I wouldn’t want to start something like that that might drag on forever and make me miserable. This way we have a great memory.”

“Seems odd to hear a Christian girl say that.”

“You hang around too many crazy Baptists.”

“But don’t you think it’s wrong? Before marriage?”

“No. It’s wrong to cheat on your husband, and it’s wrong to sleep with someone you don’t care for. But this isn’t wrong.”

“But you just said you know it wouldn’t have worked out, so aren’t you...having sex with me too lightly?”

“Maybe, I guess. But I like you. This is special.”

We kissed a little more and I said, “You’re really good, you know. At...what you did.”

“Blowjobs? Yeah, I am.”

Soon I was hard again and she asked, “Do you want on top, or shall I?”

“You can start on top until you cum and then let me finish on top of you. I want to see your breasts.”

She nodded, pushed me back, and climbed on top of me. I asked, “What about protection?”

“I’m on the pill,” she said, and guided me inside her. I squeezed her breasts as they rocked above me and she bent down so I could kiss them. I sucked on her nipples as she built her rhythm, and soon she said, “I’m close.” I grabbed her hips and tilted my body to thrust against her stroke for stroke and she cried out in a long orgasm. Finally she raised herself off me and lay down. I spread her thighs, pushed her knees up, and quickly plunged inside her to the hilt. She moaned and put her ankles over my shoulders. As I thrust into her plump white belly, she whispered, “Give it to me, give me all of it. Give me your cum.”

I said, “I’m getting close.”

“Faster, harder,” she replied, and I teased her back, “Tighter, wetter.”

She did squeeze down a bit more, I think, and soon I came hard. I looked down at the end and saw her looking at me as she bit her lip, and when I rose off her she said, “I’m close again. Watch me,” and spread her thighs wide and rubbed off for me. At the end, she cried out as her hips thrust hard against her right hand, fingers rubbing in a fast blur over her clit, and her full breasts flopping around seductively. I looked down at her afterwards with her thighs splayed open, her cunt raggedly open and dripping with her fluids and my cum, and her chest and neck flushed red, and proceeded to rub myself off above her. I was too exhausted to get hard but pummeled myself anyway, and soon I was rewarded with a short swift spray of cum all over her belly and breasts.

I lay down beside her and rubbed my cum all over her breasts. “I’m sorry you don’t like having your tits fucked,” I said. “They’re magnificent. I’d love to see myself cum between them.”

She just smiled and kissed me. We talked for a few minutes, but when we started yawning she asked, “When do you need to get up?”

“Eight.”

“You’re getting up at seven.” I nodded and nodded off.

The alarm woke us up on the dot and Leah reached down and smiled, “Good, you got enough rest.” She pulled she sheet off me and took me deep into her mouth as she looked me in the eyes. I lay back and gave myself over to the pleasure, and when I got close she said, “Here,” and as I looked at her she cradled my cock between her breasts and stroked the top of the shaft with her fingertips. The sight pushed me over the edge and I made two small spurts and a prolonged dribble between her tits.

“Was that good enough?” she asked, and I just nodded and pulled her up to me. We kissed and I went down on her again. After she came, she said, “Go shower. I’ll go with you to the station.”

I showered, dressed comfortably, and put my bags in her room as I went down to return my key. I came back up and went to breakfast with her, and after saying good-bye to a few of my friend who had not gone off to class, we walked quietly to the bus station. She had dressed in a blouse that showed off her cleavage, and as we walked she told me about her sexual life, and when we reached the station with 20 minutes to spare, I said, “We should have just stayed in your room for20 minutes.”

She smiled, “Come with me,” and led me to a small restroom in the building next to the station. Inside, she knelt down in front of me and sucked me off one more time. I came quickly and said, “There’s still ten minutes.” I pushed her up against the sink, knelt before her, pulled down her pants, and gave her a quick orgasm with my tongue and two fingers. We washed up quickly and rushed to the station, and of course the bus was five minutes late. She stood and waved as I left, and I have never seen her again.

After leaving school I returned home to look for work; unfortunately, I chose the depths of a recession to try to make my way in the workforce and spent several years doing scutwork for just over minimum wage. After four years I was able to return to my studies at a different school and in entirely different subjects (history and languages instead of physics). Although some time after returning home I wrote letters to Anna, Lilly, and Leah, I never received a reply; life went on and after a few years their memories faded somewhat as other lovers came and went.

After graduation I went to yet another university for grad school. Several years after starting there, I was reading the student paper one morning at a coffee shop when I saw a brief article about a large research grant awarded to a young faculty member in biochemistry having Lilly's name; I immediately looked up her faculty page online and saw from the picture that it was one and the same person. As I had a free day (though I had planned to spend it in the library doing research for my dissertation), I walked over to her building and found her office. I knocked and she said, "Come in."

She was seated at her desk and I said hello and added, "I saw the news of your grant in the paper."

She smiled politely and said, "I don't need any more laboratory staff."

I replied in Chinese, "Actually, we were lovers once."

She looked closely at me over the rim of her glasses and squealed. She walked around her desk and hugged me and said, "Oh, it is you!" She held my upper arms and asked, "Are you married?"

"No."

"Unattached?"

"Yes."

She then put her arms around my neck and kissed me warmly on the lips and said, "Sit down, sit down!"

We told each other about our careers after I had left school. After fifteen minutes, she said, "I have a meeting soon," and set a time and place for lunch.

At lunch we talked a bit more privately. At one point she said, "I'm glad to see you again. I've missed you. I figured you'd be gray and fat if I ever saw you again."

I said, "I'm not too fat at least," and she laughed and touched my hair in front of my right ear.

"Lucky you," she said, "I wish I could get rid of these last 10 pounds."

"You look perfect."

She blushed and smiled and said, "So do you." After a pause she asked, "So when did you learn Chinese?"

"In college. Studied Chinese history a bit."

She grimaced, "God, why?"

"It's interesting."

"No it's not. Did you study Chinese poetry?"

"No."

"You got ripped off. Take them to court for a full refund."

We laughed, and a bit later I asked her, "Why didn't you ever write back to me? Didn't you get my letter?"

She looked at me for a few seconds and answered, "I got your letter. It arrived a day before my boyfriend was coming to visit."

"You had a boyfriend?"

"Yes, at another school. If you'd made a move sooner I'd have broken up with him immediately. But after you left, you were gone. I had to choose whether to stay with him or dump him for something I couldn't see ever happening."

"Very wise."

"I hope you're not upset."

"Of course not. That was a shit time. You're lucky you missed it."

She smiled and about that time our food arrived, after which we flirted outrageously for half an hour. As we left, she leaned in towards me and said quietly, "I'm cooking dinner for you tonight. I'll leave work right at 6. Come at 7:30." She gave me her address and kissed me goodbye on the cheek. I watched her as she walked off happily, and she turned around twice to wave at me before she turned the corner.

I managed to concentrate enough to do some solid library research before dinner, and rushed home with just enough time to wash up, put on more presentable clothes, and pick up a decent bottle of wine. I arrived right on time, and when she opened the door she was dressed in a loose blouse and slacks. She stood aside and beckoned me inside, and when the door closed she kissed me deeply. After we separated to take a breath, I handed her the wine and she looked at it with a frown. "They really need to give you a bigger stipend," she said and we laughed.

She said, “Make yourself at home. Look around as much as you want in here. Bathroom’s there. Bedroom’s there. You don’t need to go in there."

She grinned evilly at me and I gave her a mock bow. She laughed and went into the kitchen to prepare our plates and I looked through her books. I noticed an alumni dictionary and looked up our class and quickly determined that Anna and Leah were both married; I then checked two of my former friends and saw they’d made quite a success of themselves. I figured that was enough harsh reality for one evening and reshelved the book as she called me in to dinner.

After dinner she seated me on the couch and put on a CD. I laughed at the first notes, for it was Franck’s Piano Quintet, and said, “Man, I haven’t heard that in probably five years or more.”

“It seemed appropriate,” she said and sat down next to me. She looked up at me and I pulled off her glasses. I kissed her on the lips softly and she kissed me back passionately and pushed her tongue into my mouth. I kissed her back equally passionately and soon discovered she had dressed for swift and easy undressing. She undressed me in a rush and pushed me down with my back against the back of the couch; she then lay down to take me in her mouth, spread her thighs, and sighed as I grabbed her hips and immediately started licking her clit. We went at each other vigorously and she soon had my cock down her throat. I sucked on her drenched cunt as she thrust rhythmically against my face. She came first in a massive orgasm lasting a minute or more; I came soon after, my cum surging into her throat as she swallowed every drop skillfully.

She sat up and lay down in the same direction I was lying. “You came so much you nearly drowned me,” she laughed.

“You really inspired me,” I said, and she giggled happily.

“I’ve been on fire since I saw you this morning,” she said.

“Me too.”

We held each other and kissed for a while, and when the music ended she said, “Now you can go in my bedroom.”

“Why so secret?”

“It’s the holy of holies, silly. You can’t just traipse in there. You have to perform the proper ceremonies first.”

“Which are?”

She frowned a little in thought. “Oh, you know...watering the sacred grove, paying lip service to my...um, little boat man, um...and feeding soymilk to the thirsty girl.”

We laughed as she thought up each part, and I said, “Have all the proper ceremonies been properly performed?”

“We’ll just have to risk it, won’t we?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Probably just we’ll have to come back out here and do them again until we get them just right.”

“I’m perfectly willing to do that.”

“I’m not. Come on,” she said and laughed.

After we entered, she turned on the light to let me see where her furniture was, then turned it out and led me to the bed. She pushed me back and lay on top of me. She kissed me passionately as she rubbed her body against me in raw horniness. I reached down with my right hand and ran the tips of my index and middle fingers against her lips. She tilted her hips so that they slid inside her and fucked my hand until she came loudly and swiftly above me. Watching her bring herself off made me fully hard again, and she reached down to guide me inside.

She looked down at me and said, “Just keep up with me. I want to wear myself out.”

“Just fuck me. I want to see you cum twenty times.”

“Oh God, I might do it too,” she moaned and started riding me hard. I grabbed her hips to help aim my cock and just tilted my hips and thrust lightly to show my enthusiasm. She came four times in about twenty minutes and then lay with my cock inside her and her head on my chest, her body drenched in sweat. “Your turn,” she sighed, and moved her cunt slowly around my cock. In this position her cunt was softer and sweetly enveloping and I soon pumped my second orgasm deep inside her. She kept my cock inside her and looked up at me sweetly.

She said, “I wanted that so much.” After a few seconds, she added, “That was what we should have been doing the whole time you were visiting me in my old room and talking about music and your stupid classes. Do you realize we could have spent a year doing this instead of talking around each other?”

I chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve realized that ever since we were together.”

We then talked about our histories after leaving each other. She was a bit amazed at my history with both men and women, but not particularly turned on by the former. She had had five lovers since our night together, and the two who didn’t start out liking eating pussy she trained until they did; at the same time, she treated them well as she became skillful in return. “You were right in a way, I did need to get better at judging men.”

She added, “But really, you were really special for me. I used to have just one orgasm if I was lucky. From fucking, or fingering. I never really had anyone eat my pussy well. The two guys who tried it were really squeamish. It touched my heart to see them making faces as they licked me a little. I was like a chore they had to do until I stopped punishing them. You were great, that’s why I was happy to go down on you too. I’d never done that before. I’d never come more than once before. You were so sweet and so hot, and the way you ate my pussy like you belonged there was just a dream. I’m glad I finally got to do you right.”

“But you’d had orgasms before? Besides the men, right?”

“Yes, of course, but I didn’t...rub myself off much. I wanted orgasms during sex, you see. Like a present for my lover.”

“And now?”

“Oh, I started rubbing off pretty often a couple of years after you. My boyfriend then loved watching me, and it got me so hot doing it for him. The first time I did it, it started out really embarrassing, but by the time I finished I’d cum six times and he’d jerked off all over me three times. He was really good eating my pussy too, but I’d just rub off at night repeatedly imagining he was cumming all over my belly or my breasts, or down my throat, as he watched me rub my pussy for him. Or I imagined it was you cumming on me, or both of you, each one right after the other, or you shooting off down my throat as he jerked off on my breasts. I was so obsessed with that then, I wore him out every time he stayed over.” She smiled, “It’s not such a hot thing for me now. I really got over it when he turned out to be a jerkwad when we broke up, but I’d love to do it with you.”

“You have a beautiful cunt. We need to do it when it’s light, so we can see every little bit of each other.”

She chuckled, “So what do you want to do now?”

“Oh, so many choices!”

“How many?”

I chuckled, “Well...two, I guess.”

She laughed, “So do you want my pussy or my mouth?”

“Oh, why must I choose? Cruel reality.”

She laughed loudly and said, “Think you can do each one once more?”

“It’s worth a try.”

I rolled over so she was on her back and I quickly mounted her. I thrust vigorously inside her as she gasped with each stroke, but I came very quickly and left her hanging; I slid down to finish her off with my cock positioned near her head, and she licked at me lightly as I sucked her hard. She soon came and rolled over a little so that her head rested on my thigh. She sucked gently until I hardened slightly, and despite my exhaustion she managed to provoke a small orgasm with a small dribble of cum.

“I’m done for tonight,” I said.

“I know,” she giggled.

We curled up and slept soundly. In the morning I pulled the sheet off her when she woke up so that the morning sun shone through the blinds across her body. She smiled and spread her thighs, her feet together and her pussy fully exposed. As she caressed her clit I hardened above her and stroked slowly as she came three times, then I straddled her and spewed on her breasts.

“Ooh, it’s still a real turn-on,” she said. She played with my cum and said, “But you know, no matter how much my men do it, it doesn’t make me grow.” We laughed and chatted about the future and so started a lengthy romance. We soon knew we weren’t suited to marriage with each other, but we stayed together until after I finished my dissertation; we put things on hold when I went abroad for a research project and we each soon were lucky enough to find another lover more suitable for something permanent.