I slid my arms back around her waist, simultaneously pressing her shoulders back against the wall and pulling her hips forward against mine. I let my tongue slide free and caress her lips. Beth eagerly parted her mouth in reply, and our tongues met, tentatively at first, then with increasing fervor. She wrapped her arms around my upper arms and shoulders, pulling me forward, which pressed her even more firmly against the wall.
I could not help myself and slid my hands down to clasp her just so god-damned nice ass. As I touched the rough fabric of her skirt, I could instantly feel how firm her cheeks were.
But Beth jumped a little as my hands found their target, and she peeped just a little bit. Shit. I knew things were going to get weird, and I clearly did not know what I was doing. Here we were just kissing for two seconds and I go and grab Beth’s ass… my buddy’s ass. My fingers sprang free.
Before I could separate our lips, Beth did it first. Before I could speak, Beth did that first too. “Don’t stop. Squeeze it. Harder!” Then she practically rammed her tongue back onto my mouth, hooking the tip upward, and dragging it across the back of my teeth.
I’m a smart guy, and from these incredibly subtle clues, I deduced that I had not, in fact, gone too far after all. As instructed, I clasped her cheeks once more and practically mauled them. Her muscular backside filled my grasp, and flexed enticingly as I held it.
“Damn, your ass is amazing!” I growled through our clenched lips.
Beth chuckled quietly. “Best you’ve felt?” she asked with a sexy confidence.
“Hell ye…” I started to say, but paused. Carrie had an unbelievably nice ass, too. They both were far, far too amazing for the likes of my humble fingers. I realized that stopping my reply mid-yes might become a problem, so I quickly deflected by drawing back and looking into her eyes. “I think maybe a guy shouldn’t make comparisons.”
Beth laughed again. I’d never heard her laugh like this. It was… very sexy. “That might be wise for a whole lot of reasons.”
Suddenly, she was kissing my neck hungrily. That felt amazing. My hands were now eager to explore. While one remained firmly clamped on Beth backside, I raised the other and went for a quick feel of one of her breasts. Beth just pressed back against my hand. Her breasts were a little smaller, but the one I gripped still felt delightful in my grasp. I held it softly, teasing her nipple a little through the fabric.
The big news was that she was not wearing a bra, and I was fairly certain that that was not her standard operating procedure. She must have premeditated this little make-out session even more than I had thought.
The other big news was that my cock was very hard, and very uncomfortably out of position in my slacks. It was twisted over to the side and tangled so hard in my underwear that I felt like the fabric was going to tear. I could not help it, and embarrassing as it was, I let go of Beth’s breast and slid my hand down to adjust myself.
There is obviously no way humanly possible to be casual enough to keep a girl you are kissing from noticing that you are adjusting yourself, but I was genuinely in pain and had to sort things out. Beth let out another small one of those new, sexy laughs. “Gotta re-arrange the furniture?” she said softly. I just nodded breathlessly and leaned to kiss her again, still trying to tug things into a more comfortable position.
“Well, since I hope I’m responsible,” Beth murmured, “I think I should help.” With that, she just reached down, slid her hand down under the waistband of both trousers and underwear and wrapped it around my cock! She squeezed my hardness and gently slid it fully upright. I would have felt quite relieved to escape my tangled condition, had that sensation not been completely overwhelmed by the fact that Beth was holding my dick. Beth was holding my dick.
She let her fingers slide up and down my length, then did it again. It seemed like she started to jerk her hand out of my pants, but then she left it gently clasping my tip. “Jesus, Al… I mean Alistaire! You undersold it. This thing is fucking enormous!”
I was no longer bewildered and confused when a girl was profanely incredulous upon first encountering my penis, but I was starting to seriously enjoy it. Beth started caressing me up and down, and wiggling against me. Then she froze.
She pushed me away from her, and then herself slightly away from the wall. She said matter of factly, “I am so going to suck your cock. Wish me luck. I hope I survive.” With a wink, I watched wordlessly as she started to bend her knees.
A sharp noise rang out somewhere in the library, not close by, but probably on our floor. Beth shot back up straight, her hand sliding gently but swiftly from my pants. She stated the blindingly obvious. “Fucking fuck! I cannot get busted sucking dick in the stacks. God damn it,” she swore again, in quiet frustration.
About the only thing the colleges which had already accepted kids cared about beyond the check clearing, besides outright failing grades of course, were disciplinary actions. We probably would not lose our places in college over sexual adventurism, but prep school students are pathologically paranoid about anything related to their college future.
Besides, I knew Beth’s father. I’d met the man twice before. I would encounter him at least once more, at graduation.
I wanted to live to see nineteen.
But I also wanted to have Beth suck my cock. I was in fact keenly eager for that eventuality, now that the possibility had been broached. Keenly.
The thing is, preppies have less sex than public school kids for a variety of reasons. Chief among them is privacy. We seldom actually leave campus. We are allowed to–we just usually don’t, since we don’t have cars. And most everywhere on campus, faculty or staff are liable to just show up, out of nowhere, at all kinds of odd times. Access to the dorm rooms of the opposite sex is allowed, though discretely but rigorously regulated. I had never so much as a thought about “Inter-dorm Visitation” until Senior year, when my track chix and I all found ourselves in the same AP Calculus section and we started to study together in a group.
It caused quite a stir for a while when I first had three girls over to my dorm room a few times. It was generally decided that it was unfair having such a situation wasted on me, who would not know what to do with one girl, much less three. Or at least that is what most guys said when they didn’t think I could hear. I had generally agreed with them though, in all honesty.
But the point is, when a girl or girls were in your room… it became Known. Faculty lived on every floor of every dorm. Eyes were kept peeled. And if just Beth came to my room, or just I went to hers, even if the faculty did not cotton on, the mere fact would be noticed by other students. And then commented on. And then it would get back to Carla and Bridget…
So, what could Beth and I do for…
I chuckled. Beth, who had also been furiously pondering the dilemma, snapped eagerly, “What do you have?”