Springtime on Campus, circa 1984

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It was one of those early spring days when the air smells like distant rain and flowers and freshly cut grass. Walking across campus past the baseball field, Daniel could hear the spring peepers calling from the small retention wetland below the dugout; even the frogs were excited and optimistic about the change in the weather, from a late snow last week to 70 degrees and beautiful sunshine today.

Winter was not quite ready to give up yet, but Spring Break had come and gone, and the girls had brought their tans and sunburns back from Florida to show off in shorts and sundresses and miniskirts. T-shirts and sleeveless blouses were everywhere, with buttons carelessly left undone to tease a peak at tan lines created in Daytona and Ft. Lauderdale.

An unruly southerly breeze played with the hem of those dresses and skirts, every once in a while showing a flash of something not intended to be seen… or maybe it was intended – maybe that was the whole point. White, purple, light blue, peach – the spring panty bloom was happening, and it was what made life worth living for a 21-year old college student.

A brief flash of panties from across the classroom as a girl got out of her chair, a glimpse of panties when a beauty climbed the circular staircase in the student union building. The outline of panties showing through a too-thin sundress on the sexy babe walking in front of him on the way from physics class, the movement of her hips animating the contrasting darker color under the light fabric of her dress – it pretty much hypnotized him, and he almost walked into a bike rack as she turned toward the library and he realized he had forgotten where he was going.

Some days, these small joys that stirred the hormones like swizzle sticks in a rum and coke were the only thing to make life bearable after memorizing all 21 amino acids and fighting for hours with the mainframe over a line of FORTRAN code that contained a 0 instead of O. I meant to type an O, Dammit! Why would I put a zero in CONTINUE? It makes no grammatical sense, you stupid computer!

Accidental panties, that was what kept a guy going sometimes. He put his backpack on the bleacher and paused to watch the baseball team do some batting practice before heading to the last class of the day. A pair of warm hands covering his eyes from behind interrupted his panty daydream.

“Guess who,” the voice behind the hands said.

“Umm, Christie Brinkley?”

“You wish.”

Marcy was wearing her signature Flashdance-inspired mini-dress made from an oversized sweatshirt. It was loose and just barely long enough to cover the exciting parts, and today it looked like she had gone sans bra as well. Damn! She gave him a peck on the cheek and sat down on the bleacher. They took in the pitches and the crack of the bats and the warm sunshine for awhile, just content to be outside of classroom walls and next to each other.

“Did you hear anything from Ohio State yet?” he asked.

“Not yet. Michigan either. Hopefully I’ll get an answer soon.” Marcy was applying to grad school, and was hoping her grades and GRE scores were going to be good enough to get into one of her top school choices. It was looking pretty iffy. They had the last class of the day together – Genetics with Professor Jackson, and only 5 minutes until class started.

“We’d better get going,” she said. The baseball crowd was starting to thin out as people headed off to class. Two girls in short skirts halfway down the bleachers got up to leave, and one swung her legs wide for a couple of seconds – 2 long seconds of bare thighs and flowery panties and the promise of heaven.

She goosed him playfully in the ribs: “Get an eyeful there, did you?”

“Well, yes. Do you blame me? I was just an innocent bystander. Visually assaulted, so to speak. Beyond my control.”

“You’re so full of bullshit,” she laughed.

“You know I’m really just anxiously anticipating finding out what color your panties are.”

I think you’ll find out sooner or later,” she said.

As they walked together toward Room
15 in the Garner Science building, he had a wicked idea: “How about you show me sooner rather than later?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you flash me in class?”

“Are you kidding me?” she replied. “How would I do that without flashing the whole class?”

“Carefully. Discretely. It would be sexy as hell.” He could tell that despite her reluctance kırklareli escort and protest, the idea titillated her and brought out her exhibitionist streak. She was on one level a sweet little good girl who decorated her room with teddy bears and liked baking cookies for the whole dorm floor. On another level she was a sexually adventurous bad girl who liked to show off.

The bell rang just as they walked into the classroom, which was nearly full. Most of the seats were taken, and no two empty desks were adjacent to each other. The school desk-chairs were arranged in several short rows on either side of the classroom, facing toward the front and slightly toward the center of the room. He grabbed the last available seat on the left side of the room. Marcy had to take a seat on the opposite side of the room; the front chair in one of the short rows slightly behind him. Perfect! She was partially facing him, and would have to swing her legs toward him to get in and out of the left-entry school desk. She gave him a fake dirty look as she sat down, being careful to keep her knees together.

Professor Jackson droned on about alleles and recessive vs. dominant genes. In between scribbling down notes and trying to follow the lecture, Daniel kept glancing in Marcy’s direction. She was busy taking notes, but had a mischievous smile on her face, and he noticed that though her legs were crossed and knees still together, the bottom hem of her dress had slid up several inches.

Back to chromosomes and cell mitochondria and abnormalities during mitosis, then another glance. This time, he caught her eye. She winked at him, then went back to note taking. Halfway through the lecture, he flipped his notebook to an empty page, and wrote a single word in large letters lengthwise across the page. Now the stare – he just looked in her direction until the professor was making an especially pertinent point on the chalkboard and had the attention of most of the class. When she glanced in his direction he flipped up the notebook just for a second. PANTIES! She read the flashcard and blushed a little, then stuck her tongue out at him.

He had to focus on the chalkboard, on Dr. Jackson’s voice, on the task at hand to catch back up on his notes. When he had grasped the basic concept of Radiation Mutagenesis, he looked back in her direction. This time, she was staring at him. With a slight smile, she casually moved her left leg several inches, exposing a triangle of bright pink panties while keeping her gaze locked on his. Just a second or two, then she swung her leg back and focused her attention on class. Holy Shit! He forgot all about genetics now and daydreamed about the hands-on biology he imagined was ahead after class…


Just inside the dorm room door he dropped his backpack full of books on the floor and reached for her. She turned and met his embrace. They kissed deeply and passionately, her arms around his neck, fingers running through the hair on the back of his head as he cupped her ass cheeks in both hands and pulled her against his groin. He kissed down the side of her neck, his tongue brushing her earlobe, breathing into her ear as he passed it, on down her neck to the top of her shoulder with wet kisses. He kissed and licked all across the top of her left shoulder as he pulled the sweatshirt/dress top down. I was right – no bra.

Kissing slowly down as he uncovered her left breast, finally pulling the fabric down to completely expose her breast, he cupped it in his right hand, and sucked the pink nipple and about half of her breast into his mouth. Moaning, she clutched the back of his head and pulled him into her. He swirled his tongue and sucked and nibbled and chewed until it seemed her knees were going to buckle, then slowly traced his tongue back up along her shoulder to her neck. Then to her ear again, this time sucking gently on the bottom of her earlobe, and finally, worming his tongue into her ear.

“What are you trying to do to me?” she said, as she shivered from the surprisingly erotic contact.

“I’m trying to make your panties wet,” he replied bluntly.

“My panties have been wet all day thinking about you.”

“Show me. Take off your panties.” It was not a question, not a tentative wishy-washy please do this, nor was it a belligerent order. But it was a command, direct and simple. She pulled afyon escort up the hem of her dress and slid her fingers under the sides of her pink panties and pushed them down. Stepping out of them, she started to drop them on the floor.

“No! Give them to me.” he said. She handed them over. Sure enough, there was a dark damp spot in the crotch. He brought them to his face, buried his nose in the damp spot and inhaled deeply. The ripe aroma of this flimsy piece of fabric that had been touching her so intimately all day almost made him dizzy.

He kissed her again, pushing her back against the counter of the dorm room sink; they still hadn’t made it more than a few feet from the door. His hands went up under the short dress and caressed her now bare ass as their tongues caressed and explored and tasted each other.

He dropped to his knees in front of her and looking up from below, said “show me your pussy.”

“I love it when you take charge and tell me what to do,” she whispered, as she complied, slowly and seductively easing up the hem of the dress.

He just admired the view for several long seconds, taking in the curve of her belly, the dark triangle of pubic hair, the pink lips glistening with moisture. He kissed lightly up one thigh, stopping just as his tongue met the crease where the smooth skin of her thigh met the dark hair; then doing the same to the other thigh. Then he moved toward the center as if to lick her, but teasingly stopped just as his nose touched her pubes, breathing deeply to take in her scent. His breath tickled her, and she involuntarily moved toward him, wanting his tongue on her. Instead he just ran his nose up and down, brushing her pubic hair lightly as he blew gently on her pussy. Finally, he moved in and parted her lips with his nose, raking his nose from the bottom of her slit to her clitoris and back again. No tongue, no licking; just feeling her wetness and inhaling the intoxicating aroma. Her hands were on the back of his head now, pulling him against her, wanting more.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that don’t you?” she said.

“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” He replied.

“Show me your asshole,” he said, as he pulled back from her.

She slowly turned around to face the sink, pulling the dress up over her head and tossing it on the floor at the same time. Putting her hands on the sink, she leaned over slightly. He worshiped her buttocks with his tongue like he had done to her inner thighs from the other side; kissing and licking and biting first her left ass cheek, then across the top of the cleft and down her right cheek.

“You still haven’t shown me your asshole.” He whispered.


“I see your beautiful ass, but you haven’t shown me your asshole.” He said.

“You’re such a filthy pervert!” She reached back with both hands and spread her cheeks apart.

He led with his nose again; from her clit up through her now very wet pussy to her puckered brown rosebud. Then a second pass with his tongue, all the way from clit to asshole. Marcy moaned this time and pushed her ass against his face.

No more teasing. He wanted to devour her pussy, get covered in her sweet juices; make her cum so hard she couldn’t stand up. He cupped her ass with both hands, spreading her cheeks apart as his tongue swirled on her pussy. She was leaning over the sink counter now, propped up on her elbows as he ate her. Nose firmly against the musky earthiness of her asshole, his tongue swirled around her clit, thrust deeply into her pussy, licked her labia from side to side. He couldn’t get enough: licking, sucking, tasting – the rest of the world disappeared, the entire universe consisted of hot skin and pussy juice and her sighs. As those sighs got more intense he concentrated on her clit; gently sucking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue slowly around it in a circular motion, and finally licking firmly up and down until her orgasm hit hard; her whole body shaking and shuddering, her head banging against the mirror, a bottle of shampoo falling into the sink.

As she recovered from her orgasm, he got to his feet and peeled off his clothes, struggling to get shoes and socks off quickly, tossing his shirt aside and kicking his jeans behind toward the door. He rubbed his hard cock up and down along her wet slit a few times, getting it lubricated, then slid into her in one long deep stroke. Grabbing amasya escort her hips with both hands, he pumped in and out with increasing speed; going balls deep on each stroke, coming almost but not quite out of her on each backstroke. Looking down, he marveled at how tightly her inner walls gripped his cock on the way out – her pussy clung to his cock and stretched outward as he withdrew. His cock was shiny and wet with her juices – it reminded him of a hydraulic piston on the bulldozer he ran one summer – a hard and powerful shaft disappearing into a tight cylinder, coming out clean and shiny every time.

Looking up, their eyes met in the counter-to-ceiling mirror over the sink. Her long brown hair fell across her face, her nipples bounced on the countertop with each thrust, as he watched himself fuck in the mirror. Seeing himself was like watching a porn video and being in the porn all at the same time. Except that he didn’t recall seeing such a goofy look on the face of porn actors.

“You look so beautiful,” he mouthed to her reflection in the mirror.

“You feel so good inside me,” she mouthed back to the mirror.

Feeling close to cumming and wanting to last a little longer, he put his hands on the counter on either side of her waist and slowed his thrusts, lingering in her as deep as he could go, slowly pulling back – all the way out of her pussy now – then back in slowly, looking into her eyes in the mirror.

Suddenly, she pushed herself up from the sink. “My elbows are getting sore, can we go to the bed?” she asked. “I want to feel you on top of me.”

He pulled out and she led him to her bed and pulled him on top of her. He entered her missionary style and felt the heat of her body again around his cock as he put his weight on her and began fucking her slowly and deeply. With her legs wrapped around his back their mouths connected in a deep soul kiss. He could sense she was getting close to another orgasm – her sharp fingernails were digging into his back and she sucked on his tongue like she wanted to steal it.

“Fuck me, fuck me hard,” she cried.

He rose up slightly to put his upper body weight on his hands and arms, and fucked her with hard, powerful strokes, amazed that he hadn’t cum yet. How had he managed not to cum? This was about the hottest sex of his life, and he was still going strong. A miracle.

“Oh Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…” Her orgasm was sudden and intense. She turned her head sideways and bit his arm – hard – as the contractions hit. She was still biting when he reached the point of no return himself, increasing the tempo of his hips as his own orgasm approached. He was going to fill her pussy with cum. But she had other plans:

“I want you to come in my mouth.” she said. They had discovered early in their relationship that she liked it when he came in her mouth – she loved the sensation of him throbbing and filling her mouth, of experiencing his orgasm so intimately and intensely, and that she actually liked the taste of semen. They had also discovered that taking him in her mouth after he had been inside her was an extra thrill – tasting her own juices on his cock made her feel like a very naughty “bad” girl.

He pulled out and scooted up to the head of the bed on his knees, resting his forearms on the bed frame as she took his cock into her mouth. Not subtly or tenderly or coyly; she grasped his ass with both hands and pulled him down as she swallowed as much of his cock as possible and began sucking him. He couldn’t resist the urge to move, and began thrusting again, trying to be gentle but in effect fucking her mouth as she sucked his cock.

He came so hard it felt like his whole body was convulsing as her mouth filled with his cum. She kept sucking and swallowing and sucking and swallowing as he kept thrusting, getting a little lightheaded and weak in the knees, until finally he relaxed his death grip on the bed frame and let his head bang against the wall, weak and spent. She was gentle now, knowing how sensitive the head of his cock became after orgasm; she swirled her tongue lightly around the head, and as he softened she was able to take all of him in her mouth, all the way down to the base. He could feel her nose against his belly, and her tongue touching the base of his balls.

“Kiss me,” she said, as he scooted down and collapsed on top of her. Kissing wasn’t really his favorite thing immediately after an orgasm; neither was tasting his own cum. But he kissed her as he cradled her head in his hands and she wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly.

When they woke up 2 hours later it was dark outside and he was wrapped around her like a blanket, his hand on her breast and the spring peepers calling even more urgently outside the open window.

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