Becky slept in Saturday morning. The very pleasant come she had enjoyed up in Roy's room left her with no need to finger-fuck herself to sleep, and the dreams that visited her body were sweetly erotic ones, filled with balling on velvety clouds and in fragrant fields of honey and clover.
She knew now that she would have no trouble in finding the sex partners she wanted. Picking up Roy had been easy as eating a piece of cake, and this was her first try. What might she not do when she expanded her field of operations to include other campus locations? Of course, having a coed dorm to live in made things much easier. You could find a guy in the social room, fuck him in his room, and go back to your own, all without having to leave the building. Winters here in Henderson were cold, and finding cock in Bentley Hall was a much more attractive idea than having to comb the campus in the snow or below-zero temperatures.
Becky slept through breakfast, but by noon was hungry, so, deliberately frowzy-looking in sloppy jeans and sweatshirt, her hair in curlers, she went down to the cafeteria in the basement to grab a meal. Afterwards, in her room, she was looking over her English assignment when the phone rang.
"Hello," she said in a sultry voice she had decided to experiment with.
"Hello," came a male voice in reply. "Is this the Becky I met last night in Roy's room?"
"It might be," she cooed. "Who's this, please?"
"My name's Paul."
"Hi, Paul," she said.
"Jeez, I'm glad I found you. All I knew was your first name, and I've been going through the student directory calling every Becky in Bentley Hall. You're the eighth one I've tried, by the way." They laughed together, and he went on, "Are you busy this afternoon?"
"No," she said. "Did you have something in mind?"
"Kind of," he admitted. "Can you come up to my room? It's 612. And soon?"
"I think so," she replied. "Let me put on something sexy."
"Yeah," he leered into the phone. "You just do that."
Becky dressed in a hurry, jerking the curlers out of her hair. She wanted to look nice, because Paul had been a pretty good piece of cock. Not as good as Sam in every respect, true, but he could learn. And she would have a lot of fun learning the art of fucking right along with him, for as long as they were content to ball together.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Nice, Ryan, she thought gaily. She was wearing a simple blouse, with a wide elastic neckline, that she caught round the curves of her shoulders to expose the fact that she had no bra strap to interfere with a sweet view. Her hips were covered by a short skirt, one of the ones she had brought from home; after the party at Sam and Terry's, she and Marjie had gone through the old Becky's rather demure wardrobe, raising hemlines wherever possible. As a consequence, the skirt rode high on her thighs, hung just below the delightful curve of her ass. She whirled round before the looking glass, noting with approval the way the skirt whirled and swayed when she moved. Legs flashed and thighs twinkled. She was ready. She only hoped Paul was too.
Becky knocked on the door of 612 and it opened to her. Paul stood there, a cigarette clenched between his lips. "Wow," he said, taking in the artfully enhanced curves of her sweet body. "You look good enough to eat!"
"I certainly hope so," she smiled in reply, closing the door behind her.
Becky approached him on cat feet, her outstretched arms wrapping round his back. She pressed her head close to his, searching for his mouth with her own. He kissed her back, then pulled his head away.
She shrugged and flopped herself down on one of the two beds. "Any time you want to start," she smiled.
Paul lit another cigarette. "Ah, well, uh, Becky-it's like this, see. I, uh, wanted you to come up, because I had a good time last night, see, and I remembered that-I remembered it real well," he emphasized, "and, bin, well, I thought-"
"Get to it," she said, "cause I wanta get to it!"
"Okay," he protested, "okay. I wanted you to come up, see, because, well, uh-" he searched for the words. "See, I have this book report due in Political Science next week, and I don't write too well. I don't talk too well either, but you probably know that already. Anyway, my roomie is a real egg-head. You know, with glasses and an I.Q. and everything, one of those kind. So he's gonna write the report for me, and I thought maybe, well, that instead of paying him for it, maybe I could talk you into-I mean, maybe you wouldn't mind-"
Becky frowned. "You want me to fuck your roommate so he'll do your homework for you. Is that right? Am I getting the drift of what you're drifting around?"
Paul nodded. "I hope you're not mad at me for asking," he was quick to add, "but I thought-"
"You thought that since I'd fucked you and what's his name last night that I wouldn't mind taking on your roomie too."
Paul stared at her, hope fading in his eyes. He knew she was gonna tell him to stick his roomie and his book report up his ass, and shove his cock in with them. He knew that's what she was gonna say.
"Oh, all right," Becky shrugged. "I guess it won't hurt."
Paul sighed in relief. Now he wouldn't have to give Archie the five dollars he'd been asking for writing the book report. He wondered if he might not even be able to get five dollars and the book report out of Archie Instead. Hmm? It was worth a try, he decided.
"What's he like?" Becky asked.
"You know," Paul replied. "An egghead. That type."
Becky didn't know what an egghead looked like. None of the boys in Fayetteville had been intellectually inclined. Most of them, she realized now, were too dumb to pour piss out of a boot with directions printed on the heel. "When do I make him?" she asked.
"Huh?" Paul asked, stirred from his reverie. "Oh, he'll be back here in a few minutes. He's at the library, but he said he'd be back by two o'clock."
"Are you gonna stay and watch?" she asked acidly.
Paul missed the sarcasm in her voice. "Oh, no," he smiled, "I have a date this afternoon to play tennis. I won't be around."
She nodded, disdain curling her mouth. Becky Ryan, she told herself bitterly, you really are a slut. Not because you made it with two guys in a row without a break, but because now, like a dumb, damned whore, you're letting yourself get set up to fuck away a conniving bastard's debts. She was still musing over this new twist in her recently begun sexual life when Paul bid her goodbye and went out the door.
Becky was sitting on the bed looking at a book when the doorknob turned. She looked up with a smile as a boy entered.
"Hi," she said, her face bright but her heart sinking. Oh, God! she thought suddenly. He's a dwarf! The guy wasn't really a dwarf, but he stood at least five inches shorter than Becky. She didn't have to measure him with a yardstick to know that if they stood face to face, his eyes would be on a level with her collarbone.
"Who are you?" asked the boy, his eyes bugging. He looked at Becky's fetching smile, looked at her bared shoulders, stared Lustfully at her even more fetching legs. And then his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the long-limbed girl stretch herself and slide like a lazy tigress from the soft cushioning mat of the bed on which she had been lying. He saw the muscles ripple in her legs, saw the bareness of her thighs, stared into the tantalizing partial revelation of her crotch as she got to her feet. And then she was coming toward him, her body a lithe tribute to human anatomy.
"I'm Becky," she said, touching one long finger to the boy's chest. He jerked at her contact, and the books in his arm fell to the floor. "Did I startle you?" she asked, suddenly very concerned. And as he knelt to pick up the items he had dropped, she knelt with him, her knees up and her skirt risen high to reveal the pantied bulge of her crotch.
Archie didn't want to get up, because he knew that she would see his bard-on jutting inside his pants. That had hit him as soon as he saw the casual exposure of her undies, and it embarrassed him. He knew she must be waiting for Paul, and he hated Paul suddenly for being able to get girls like this.
"Paul isn't here," he said breathlessly, still kneeling. Becky had arisen now and he looked at her, his eyes filled mostly with the vision of her long bare legs, his brain seeking to will its way to X-ray eyesight that he might look beneath the fabric of her skirt, penetrate the nylon of the panties he had already seen. He wished she would go, because be knew his hard-on would never diminish so long as she was here, but he didn't want her to go, for the sensation of being here alone with her, able to fantasize anything he wanted regarding her and that lovely body-this was something he wanted to keep always.
"I know Paul isn't here," she said with that Madonna smile, and her fingers touched his hair ever so lightly. "I wanted to see you."
Now Archie knew be was dreaming. He'd died and gone to hell. That was it! A car had bit him on the way back from the library and he was in hell and Satan was tempting him with this vision. The moment he tried to put a hand on the form that was haunting him right now, it would vanish and he would be in the midst of broiling, scorching fires with imps tormenting his reddened body with the points of their pitchforks. Oh, he knew it now!
Becky's hand slipped down his cheek, stroking his flesh. Could even the devil make a vision so real? Archie was frozen fast with fear. His cock jutted out angrily but his muscles would not propel him even if he dared move.
"Are you real?" Archie croaked, his vocal chords drying up as he spoke, his throat tightening so that he couldn't even swallow. He thought of all the times he had masturbated himself to a fury, spilling his semen onto his fingers, onto his sheet, into tissues, handkerchiefs, wherever be could squirt it, while he fantasized the image of a beautiful woman who wanted him, only him-who touched him and caressed him and made love to him with her voice until his cock was stiff and aching with the release it desired and she took his desire in hand and relieved him of it and left him shrieking and screaming his ecstasy to the whole world around.
"Of course I'm real, Archie," she said, and he knew it must be a dream, for how else would she know his name? She was so tall, much taller than he, and so beautiful in her pristine, classic way. As he knelt beneath her he could see the little breasts banging in the cloth of her blouse, could see the pricking points of her nipples showing in the front of her garment, could smell, for Christ's sake, the womanly aroma of her. He wanted her and he knew he could never have her, for she was the kind of girl a guy like him never got. He wished he could cry his heart out, cuddling his head on those apples growing from her chest, hug his face in her legs and spill tears onto the slim gorgeous columns that rose in graceful curves from ankles to ass.
And her hands were reaching for his now, and his palms felt the touch of hers, and she was clasping him. She tugged, and he had no will to resist. He rose, oblivious now to the inescapable bulge in his pants, and she moved her body against his. He tried to pull his crotch back, so she wouldn't notice that he was aroused, but there was no stopping her as she ground her pelvis against his, feeling with her loins every inch of what he had inside his trousers.
She dipped her head then, her tongue flicking out like a snake's, and her mouth approached his, and he bent his head upward to meet hers, for she was so much taller, and he knew then his first kiss from a sensual woman's lips. Her tongue easily penetrated the skimpy barrier of his teeth and delved inside his mouth, deliciously wet, erotically exciting, and he could feel the spittle of her mouth. He threw his arms round her and clasped his body against hers, ramming the erect presence of his covered prick into her consciousness.
Becky smiled as she felt Archie's arousal. She tongued him again and again, making his prick grow harder and harder till she was sure it wouldn't break if hit by a sledgehammer. Her lips soft against his, she withdrew her tongue from his mouth and cooed against him, "Would you like to fuck me now, Archie? Would you like to take that stiff cock of yours and jam it into Becky's pretty cunny hole?" He gurgled soporifically, and she went "Hmmm?" into his open mouth, making him tingle from the humming.
"Oh, God, yes," he whispered, "please let me put my cock in you. I promise I'll do it right. I'll fuck you real good if you'll let me. Please, Becky. I'll eat your pussy. I'll do anything you want me to."
Now, Becky thought. Now she would throw herself out of his grasp and laugh her ass off at him and his stupid prick. Tell him that his fucking roommate had tried to get her to whore herself for him, tried to talk her into fucking his slob of a roomie just to save himself a little cash. And then she would laugh and giggle and laugh and chortle and laugh and whinny like a horse as she watched the tentlike projection of his pants front collapse from shame. As for Paul, she'd castrate him some other way. Maybe Marjie would have an idea.
"Oh, God," Archie went on, his breath hot and faintly sweet in her face. "I've never done it before but I know I can do it right, if you'll just let me. Please, Becky, please!" His glasses were steaming up from the heat of her presence and his eyes were pleading like a puppy's. Becky felt sorry for him all of a sudden, and she wondered if she were callous enough to go through with the plan she had devised. And what had he said-he'd never done it before?
"Archie," she whispered breathily, "are you really a cherry?" Her arm squeezed round his back, slipped down to fondle the cheeks of his slim male ass. His eyes turned away from hers. "Come on," she teased him, "you can tell Aunty Becky if you are." He nodded quickly, almost as if he wanted to do it without her seeing.
Well! she thought This was kinda different after all. If Archie had been a pussy-hound like Paul apparently was, she would have been able to scotch the snake of his loins without a qualm of anxiety, but to do that sort of thing to a boy evidently aching to lose his cherry-that would be as cruel an assault as Ted had perpetrated upon her. She suddenly felt a motherly tenderness, a sympathy for this poor virgin boy. She wanted to help him now, not hurt him.
Becky slipped out of Archie's arms and made her way to the bed where she sat down. Her finger motioned for him to come to her, and he came, as though hypnotized. She laid an arm round his shoulders.
"You've really never had a girl before?" she asked. He shook his head. "How do you get relief, then? I mean, don't boys have urges?" He blushed red and she knew. "I'll bet you play with yourself, don't you?" She touched the stiff rod in his pants. "You take this out and you slide your hand up and down the shaft until you squirt out all that man goo, don't you?" He blushed again, and a giggle started to come from his lips. Shocked that he could be doing such a silly thing he turned his head away from her, but she caught his chin and pulled his face to hers again.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Archie," she said, "but you have to grow out of that sort of thing. Would you believe that I used to do it to myself too?" His eyes bugged and she nodded. "So I know all about it. And now," she went on, "you and I will find a better way for you to get rid of all that excess juice that keeps building up down there. Okay?"
Archie was out of it by now. The shock of what had been happening to him ever since he stepped into the same old room he had been coming to since the start of school was too much for him. His mouth could only gurgle, and flashes of tumultuous pleasure shot to his brain as Becky fondled the protrusion in his pants.
"Well," Becky told him, giving the poking pole a friendly tap, "let's do it, then." She got up off the bed and released the waistband of her skirt. It fell to the floor and she stepped out of it. Archie's eyes focused upon her tiny panties, dreaming of what lay beneath them. He hoped her pubic hair was naturally blonde. That would be pretty.
Becky put her clothing on Archie's desk as she discarded each item of dress, but as her hand deposited the blouse she fumbled and knocked a pile of notebooks and her skirt to the floor. "Damn," she said softly, kneeling to retrieve the spilled articles, and then she saw, stuffed in between two of Archie's notebooks, a magazine. It was a slick paper job, about standard magazine size, but the cover illustration was like nothing she had ever seen before.
In a full-color close-up a beautiful girl was sucking hungrily on the shaft of an incredibly huge, stiff cock. The girl's cheeks were drawn in as she mouthed away at the organ and a look of rapture was on her face. Becky looked at the title. DANISH ORGASM.
"What's this?" she asked, turning to Archie.
"Oh," he said in a choked voice, blushing still redder.
Becky flipped the magazine's pages. Every page was filled with photographs in color or monochrome of men and women performing various sexual activities. She had never seen pictures like this before, and she looked with fascination. Her eyes drifted from the page to the poleaxed Archie.
"Is this yours?" she asked. He nodded, shamefaced. "And do you look at this while you play with your peter?" He nodded once more. "I'll bet you imagine that you're the guy in the pictures, too, don't you?" Again he nodded. "Well."
Becky arose from the floor, leaving her clothes and the other things where they had fallen. She came to him, nude, the book in her hand.
Archie sat silently, embarrassed that she had discovered his secret shame. Even Paul didn't know about his dirty magazine.
"Ooh," Becky said with a grimace as she stared at a full-color shot of a girl getting fucked in the ass by a man with an enormous prick. "That's terrible!" She looked at Archie. "You better get your things off, Tiger. You can't fuck me if you're dressed."
Archie jumped off the bed and sped lightning fingers to the fastenings of his clothes. Becky was still lying on the bed, her eyes taking in the various sexual practices illustrated for her benefit. She looked up and saw Archie standing beside the bed, his cock jutting out. My, she thought. He certainly has a nice size! If he can't get girls, it's his own damned fault!
She had just found the center story of the issue. It featured a guy and a slim, lovely blonde girl. God, she thought, if her own hair were cut short, like a boy's, she and the girl in the magazine could almost pass for twins.
What a funny feeling!
Becky looked anxiously from the pages of the magazine to Archie's cock. Sudden inspiration seized her. She remembered how she had lain surreptitiously awake that night and watched Marjie and Terry going at each other on the next bed. She remembered how Marjie had at one point of the activity taken Terry's cock in hand and put it in her mouth. Becky had never had the chance to try that, but it certainly hadn't killed Marjie, had it? Could it hurt her? Of course a guy wouldn't shoot his juice in her mouth. That would be poison, wouldn't it? But it seemed there would be no harm in trying. Wasn't the girl in the magazine doing just that?
She moved her head forward suddenly, mouth open, and her tongue bathed the tip of Archie's cock. The boy's eyes went wide, and he moved forward to give Becky a better approach.
A pearly drop of semen appeared in the slit at the apex of his circumcised corolla, spurred out of him by Becky's virgin tongue. Sudden bravery inspired her. She flicked out with her linguam and brushed it across the supersensitive head of his peter, drawing that glistening driplet of come onto her tongue. It touched her taste bud and she marveled at its slick sweetness. Was man come poison? She wondered, she still didn't know, but she thought insanely that if it was, she couldn't think of a tastier way of dying than to drink Archie's nuts dry.
"Oh, God," Archie whispered, "you're driving me crazy, Becky."
She made no reply, instead forming her mouth into an 0, just like the girl in the magazine, and letting his cock slip inside the circle of that 0 to rest upon her laving tongue. She bathed round and round his prick with her tongue, roughly rubbing the tender edges of the head-arrow point, and then it slipped back along her tongue and her mouth closed shut round his shaft. She sucked at him like he was a lollipop, her cheeks drawing in, puffing out, her lips working up and down as she fed herself on the Staff of Life.
Archie's legs were weak, he knew he couldn't stand up another second, but he knew if he fell to the floor he'd break off contact with her sucking, nursing mouth and he would rather die than have that happen. Steeling himself to the delicious ordeal he kept his feet, and began to swivel his hips in and out in time to her splendid sucking. His cock slid back and forth along her wet soft tongue, pushing for her tonsils.
"Unngghh," Becky grunted as the cock drifted too far into her mouth, her mind sending her mouth the message that she might gag or strangle if Archie didn't take it easy. She reached out, caught him by the hips, and pulled him toward the bed. Without taking her mouth off his shafting prick she eased his hips onto the mattress, pushed his shoulders down so that he was on his back. Now she was above him, now she could control the amount of cock that fed into her mouth at any one time.
"Oh, baby, suck it! suck it!" Archie was groaning through clenched teeth now, his hips arching and falling as Becky's head bobbed on his stiff prick.
Becky's hand slid round and she pulled the magazine to where she could see it as she sucked. The last shot on the bottom right corner shower her look-alike merrily eating cock, although the positioning was different in the photograph. The guy was above the girl, jamming peter to her like cartridge belts into a machine gun. Well, she thought, maybe the girl has more experience. I certainly don't want to strangle myself learning to do this!
She flipped the page and saw that in the next sequence photo the girl was using her hand on the guy's stalk, only the tip of it caught in her sucking lips. Well, she thought, if its good enough for her-Becky drew her hand up and released most of his length from her mouth. A hot hand wrapped round his shaft just above the balls, and she gripped Archie tight. He moaned in glee as her hand squeezed him.
Becky looked to the book for directions. In the next shot-as she could tell from the change of position, as slight as it was-the girl was jacking up and down on his cock while she sucked its point. Okay, she told herself, and her hand began to lever him up and down. Oooh. She'd bopped herself in the chin. Don't get carried away, Ryan, she warned herself. You could get a bad bruise.
The next picture was more of the same. The girl was still jerking her guy's prick while she sucked it. Good enough. And it was kinda fun. She could taste the preliminary dribblings of come that were oozing out of his cock as she fellated it, and she fell in love with the taste of man juice. How could it be poison? She'd ask Marjie, just to be safe, if she remembered. Meanwhile she was having too much fun to worry about consequences.
Her eyes fell upon the last shot of the series. Oh! and her eyes went very wide, for the guy had exploded in this photograph and his come was dripping out of the girl's mouth. Becky's look-alike in the magazine had swollen cheeks, obviously filled with semen, and it made her look like a cute squirrel taking home a mouthful of nuts for the long winter. Well, that was proof enough that juice in the mouth wasn't harmful.
Becky increased her action, anxious to see what would happen. Her fist jerked up and down with increasing rapidity, her mouth sucking harder and harder at the aching knob of flesh capping Archie's cock. Her oral juices were flowing, coating his dicktip, and saliva was flowing down the shaft to wet her fingers, and suddenly she knew that his sperm was going to fly very soon!
She could feel it building up in his balls, feel it start to flood into the duct on the underside of his cock. His prickhead expanded in her hot sucking mouth, till she felt it would split her jaws open, and then her hand trembled as the stream of bubbling come tore upward through his shaking cock. The eyelet in the center of his corolla burst open and sweet balsam poured into her mouth too strong to be denied or rejected. She knew that her cheeks were bulging just like the blonde's in the porno magazine had done, and she knew that his semen was filling every corner of her mouth.
Becky began to swallow out of desperate panic, fearful that the river flowing into her jaws would strangle her. "Glug, glug," noises issued from her gasping throat as his slick sweet ooze gurgled down her throat, but still she couldn't swallow it all. Surplus come dripped from her mouth and splattered wet and hot upon her hands still clutching his dick, upon Archie's pubic hair and balls and belly. Rivulets of semen trailed down her chin from the corners of her lips-it seemed she must have come flowing from her ears and eyes and nose, and still she swallowed, receiving a fresh squirt of juice each time his cock jerked and pulsated in her tight grip.
Releasing Archie's cock at last, Becky looked once more at her look-alike in the magazine. She doubted very much if the blonde in DANISH ORGASM could have sucked a cock one whit more satisfactorily than she, Becky Ryan, former virgin, had just done. And on her first time out! No doubt about it, Becky told herself as she settled onto the bed wearing a smug look of self-approval. Ryan, you are fucking fantastic!