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Sara Said What? - Part One

This is my first story. Please let me know if you like it.

First and foremost I would like to state that this story is true. Names and locations have been changed to protect the both the innocent and the guilty. That being said, this story takes place about 20 years ago during my junior year of college. I, back then, was a young African American student at a predominantly white small university. I was 5'11", about 175 lbs with a lean muscular sculpted sprinter's body.

I had earned a four year ride here, and the hours on the track and in the weight room have given me an impressive physique. I would have considered myself a very attractive guy. I mean, I was by no means a model, but I never seemed to have any problem with ladies. In fact, I was envied by many of peers for my ability to get just about any woman I desired. This skill, more than likely had more to with my personality than my physical appearance. But being in great shape did not hurt. I was a bit of a social butterfly, and mixed and mingled with all types of people. I was laid back, relaxed and funny. And judging from the amount of parties I was invited to, I would say that for the most part I was generally well liked.

It was your typical Thursday night in the dorm; I had just gotten out of the shower, and was in the process of applying baby oil to my body. I know what you are thinking "Baby oil?" Say what you want, more that one woman has cooed in my ear about how smooth and soft my skin felt pressed against their naked bodies. Prior to my shower, I was unlucky enough to be caught in the weight room as my coach was working in. He was a weight room animal, and I was forced to work out with him. I was tired and sore, but I must admit I like how my still pumped arms and chest look as I admired myself in the mirror.

I finished oiling up, and lit some sandalwood incense. I loved the smell of sandal wood. But mostly I loved how it covered the smell of the joint I was about light. I was still wrapped in my towel as I popped in a Keith Sweat CD - as I said, it was 20 years ago - when there was a knock at the door. I looked through the peep hole, it was my boy Wayne. I sighed to myself. It was not that I did want to see him, more that I was really not in the mood for company. I just wanted to sit back, listen to some music, drink a few beers, smoke my joint and relax.

I opened the door. "Hey, dude, what's up?" I asked as I looked into his broadly smiling face.

"Listen, you know Jackie's roommate, Sara, right?" Jackie was Wayne's oversexed girlfriend. A girl that had shown some interest in me, but I knew that Wayne had a thing for her so I passed on hooking up with her. Had I known then, that she was something short of a nymphomaniac; things would have been a whole lot different.

"Yeah, what about Sara?" I asked, noticing his already huge grin getting larger.

"Well, she asked me to come down to ask you if you would have sex with her."

I stood there for a second, still looking at that grin. "Alright man, what is the joke?" I said with a bit of annoyance in my voice.

"No joke, dude, that is what she said."

"She just asked you to ask me that?"

"Yeah, I'm telling you the truth."

Still thinking this was some kind of game that he was playing I said, "Send her down."

"Great," was his response and he quickly turned and hurried for the staircase. I stood there for a second, wondering what this was really about. It was most likely some kind of ploy to get me to entertain Sara while Wayne got to have his way with the sexy Jackie. I was one of the few lucky students on campus to get one of the much sought after single rooms. And I knew how hard it was sometime to get rid of a roommate. So I smiled to myself and thought I might as well help the freshman get laid.

But what if what he was saying was true, I thought. Sara? No it could not be. Sara had shown little to no interest in me. In fact, what she did show would be more to akin to hostility. I had always felt that she thought that I was some kind of stuck up jock. Which of course I was not, but in retrospect I did little to convince her of that...

That being said, I threw on some old sweats, cracked a beer, and sparked up. I opened the window a bit to let the sweet mixture of sandalwood and weed escape. And lit more incense, just for good measure. It was then I heard a knock at the door. I froze, started for a second thinking it was a RA, there to read me the riot act. It was then that I remembered that it was Jeff the RA who had in fact sold me the weed in the first place. Weed does have a way of making you paranoid.

Sara! The thought flashed in my mind. I had almost forgotten my conversation with Wayne. Weed does have a way of making you forget. I could hear my heart pound, and I was not sure if it because of Sara, or the weed induced paranoia. I took a deep breath and opened the door. There she stood, with both arms tightly clutching her pillow to her chest. "Hey," I said, there was no response. She just walked past me at the door and into my room.

As she passed, I was able to detect the slightest scent of lavender. It was then that I got a good look at what she had on. They were what I best can describe as footy PJs; they were light pink and made of thick velvet. But what I found more interesting was the three button flap that covered her cute round bottom.

She quickly sat on my queen size futon, pillow held tightly to her chest, and knees held tightly together. I remember thinking she looked so small and fragile. Sara stood about 5'1 or 2, and could not have weighed more the 105 lbs. Her skin was white like fine porcelain. Her hair was dark, and the contrast between it and her milky white skin gave it the appearance of being almost beyond black. I mean if there is such a thing. Her face was cute and pixieish, with deep brown almond shaped eyes. She looked to be a late bloomer. But not saying she did not have very womanly curves to her petite frame.

I stood at the door wondering what to do next. I mean I had seduced many women to my bed. But with them it was all part of the seduction. It would follow a logical path. A then B then C. This however started with C. Do I make small talk, or do I just jump her?

Usually, by this part of the night I would have some idea of how the woman would have wanted me to proceed. Do I just whip it out and say "You wanted it, here it is"? She just sat there, her eyes at her feet. Obviously nervous and most likely made worse by my hesitation. I took a deep breath, walked over to the refrigerator, grabbed two beers and handed one to her.

She looked up from the floor, her eyes met mine. She looked at my outstretched hand then back to my face. I smiled, and motioned for her to take it. From that point things started to go smooth. I made small talk for the next 20 minutes or so.

We talked about Wayne and Jackie, classes, and when was my next track meet. I was feeling more relaxed, and could tell that she was too because she had put down her pillow which left nothing but air between us. I even got her laugh, and was amazed at how pretty it sounded. I was really enjoying her company. I remember thinking that she was so brave. I mean if what Wayne had said was true. It took a lot bravery just to put how you felt, and what you wanted out there. What if I had said no?

I watched her more intently, admiring her bravery as she finished her second beer. It was then when she looked at me with a gaze that gave me shivers. "Umm…I…I'm Ready for bed now," she said, causing an instant reaction in my sweats.

In a low and deep whisper I said to her, "Come here."

She got up and slowly walked over to me. I took her face in both hands, and looked deeply in to her eyes and pulled her lips to mine. I felt her small hands touch my naked chest, and I moaned in to her mouth. I kissed her gently at first. Relishing the soft suppleness of her lips, the taste of her, and the wonder of the moment. Our tongues probed and caressed, advanced and retreated in a sensual dance of exploration. I was really enjoying this. I slid my hands down body, and I could feel that oh so familiar stir as my hardness began to awake.

We stood there for a while, kissing, touching, and enjoying the union of our lips and tongues. She ran her hand over my chest, gently caressing my nipples send waves of pleasure across my body. I moan as her touch took my rapidly hardening manhood to its full potential. I felt her hand push against my chest, and I reluctantly released her from my gasp. She slowly reached for the zipper at her neck, and even more slowly unzipped her encasement, letting it fall gently from her body.

I watched, mesmerized, my eyes following the garment as it slid down her silky skin to her feet. Now, normally I'm not really a foot guy, but her feet lovely. They were small and cute. Each toe perfectly shaped and meticulously painted a deep blood red. It was then that I began to notice things about her that I had never before. The curl of her lips when she smiled, her small but firm breast, the way her hair framed her face. She was truly lovely and I could not imagine how I had not seen it before. She touched my face, breaking my almost hypnotized state. I looked into her eyes as she took my hand and led me to my futon. This was a first. I was normally the seducer, not the one being seduced.

I watched as she turned and crawled slowly on to the futon. This was the first time I was able to really get a look at her naked bottom. And oh what a bottom it was. It was small, but round, soft, but firm, all around just a vision of perfection. And to top it off, she had those cute dimples on her lower back that I found sexy as hell. It was then that I spied the true beauty of her womanhood, in all its pink, slick, and shaven majesty. I could hold back no longer, and with a quickness that I normally saved for the track, I moved in.

She jumped slightly, surprised by my movements. I took her hips in my hand and buried my face deep in her crevice. I slowly licked her sex and was overwhelmed by the pleasure it was giving me. I drank deeply from her pink flower, exploring each petal, and every fold. I heard her moan my name, encouraging me to explore, to probe, to find the secrete she held for me. I could feel her sweet nectar running down my chin, and I moaned. Not wanting to let one drop of this honeyed ambrosia miss my lips. She shuddered, and I knew my assault was reaching my mark.

I increased my endeavors, not only focusing on her femininity, but now running my tongue across her other tight orifice. I heard her gasp, and felt her body quake as my tongue pushed its way past her tight aperture. At the same moment I entered her wetness with my fingers, searching for that special place, that secret place that most men can't, or won't, take the time to find. "Ah there it is," I thought to myself, using my fingers to massage that to which was deep inside her depths.

I got into a nice smooth rhythm of licking, fingering, and massaging. I could tell she was enjoying my attention by the way she was clenching her internal muscles, and pushing her bottom back to meet my invading tongue. It was then that I had an odd thought. For some reason in the middle of all that was going on, a scene for "Conan the Barbarian" popped in my head. It was when Conan was asked what is good in life. His reply was "to crush an enemy, to see him driven at your feet, and to hear the lamentation of the woman." Now, by no means did I want to see her crushed or driven at my feet. But the lamentation of the woman, I can really get behind that. I loved the way she sounded, and I guess the reason this popped in my head was because Sara was really starting to moan and sigh. "Ohhh….my God…….Ohhh ...my God! Ohhh my God!" she chanted louder and louder. I knew she was closing in on that beautiful agony of climax. And the knowledge that I was bringing her to that great journeys end only made me double my efforts.

I licked and probed her with ferocity of some sort of ravenous beast. I was intoxicated by her smell, her taste, her texture, all driving me mad with lust. Just then her body jerked, she arched her back causing my fingers and tongue to plunge deeper into her slick hot orifices. I felt her vaginal muscles tightly grip my fingers over and over again. I felt her clit swell under the gentle pressure of my thumb. She was being hit with what I could tell was a category 5 Orgasm, and I was riding the storm. She groaned. "Oh, God," once more, and it was done.

I slowly, reluctantly removed my finger from her wetness and my tongue from her sphincter. As I released her hips, she fell forward and gently landed with her face in her pillow. I looked down at her, my face all slick and honeyed my lips sticky and grinning. "That was yummy," I said to her and I licked my lips clean of her essence.

She rolled over and propped herself on her elbows. She gave me a wicked little smile, and with the sexiest voice she said, "Yes it was, but now it's my turn…you would not mind very much if I were to have a taste, would you?"

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