“It is the recording studio in the library basement,” I said. “I have the combination. It is lockable, out of the way, and unless it has been scheduled, by musicians, early on a Sunday morning, it will be free for a good long while. No one goes in without an appointment, except for deliveries on weekday mornings. And best of all, it’s soundproofed!” I finished brightly.
“Soundproofed?” Bridget said, askance.
“Yeah, of course. It is in the library, I mean.”
“That is the best thing about it?”
“Sure. Come on. Girls are loud during sex. We really don’t want to get caught.”
I’ve gotten pretty experienced by now. Why was I still getting these looks all the time?
We found ourselves trying to stroll but at an almost ridiculous-looking pace. We giggled about it and tried to slow down.
“Hey! What was your time after all that?” Bridget asked, trying to make conversation to fill the eternity until we could be safely in private.
I looked idly down at my watch for the time I’d recorded. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed, shoving the watch out toward Bridget proudly.
“Holy shit,” she agreed. Then she swore in mock anger.
“What?” I asked.
“Now if I want you to finally win a fucking race, I’m going to have to offer to show you my tits again.”
I looked at her. She looked at me.
“I’m gonna win a race,” I sang. “I’m gonna win a raaaace!”
*
The schedule for the recording studio was indeed open, and I let the door close behind us gently. The second it clicked, I felt Bridget’s top slap into the back of my head. I started, then slowly turned around, only to feel her sweaty bra hit me in the face. No soggy piece of heavy fabric ever felt so amazing. I yanked off my own shirt as fast as I could. Still…
“Hey,” I started, then instantly got side-tracked. “I know I didn’t say this out loud before, but you have the most beautiful chest on the planet, okay?” I shook my head to free my eyes from said chest. “But we can slow down. The room is not scheduled until four in the afternoon, and we would be missed at D&D before then anyway! We have all the time in the world.”
“I know this is not how the dynamic is supposed to work,” said Bridget, who was, oh my God, pushing her panties down to her ankles. Her pubes, wispy and soft, were as red as the hair on her hair. Oh, God. Oh God. “But now that I have finally decided to do this, and have the logically arrived at Mr. Right lined up, I kinda want you to be Mr. Right Now.”
I flushed at that, but protested, “But, we have a lot of things to do first!”
“First?”
“Well, sure,” I said, trying not to sound like I was some kind of expert talking to a virgin-a virgin who still probably had as much experience as me in pretty much everything but. “Like, we need to make sure we both get in a really satisfying orgasm or three first, right?” She looked at me calmly. “I mean, to get you ready for, well, this.” I gestured southward. “And…” I blushed, a little embarrassed. “And to make sure I don’t go off too soon the first time when we do finally…” She was just looking at me with yet another unreadable expression. “I mean, I know it’s embarrassing, and I’m sorry in advance. I’m getting better, I promise, but my first one usually comes on pretty quick. And the prospect of my first time with you already has me on a hair trigger. I’m learning to get better, I’m serious. Why are you suddenly laughing? Please don’t. I’m babbling, I know it’s funny. But I’m serious about having a hard time holding back the first time,” I said, tugging off my shorts and jock, eager to shuck the very uncomfortable strictures. “And Bridget? Seriously, looking at you right here, right now… I’m lucky I’m not coming already, just from the view.”
She blushed, but I instantly realized that she wasn’t even listening much to my attempt at a compliment. She was staring at my slowly bobbing cock. I thought I was about to get a second Taj Mahal moment, but instead she just took a deep breath and said, “Yeah. I guess it is going to take some getting ready for that…”
I grinned and pounced on her, my ankles finally feee of the jockstrap. “I have some ideas on that front,” I said, to which she quietly shrieked in response.
I was honestly surprised that no one ever said anything about how one of the big, wide, upholstered vinyl chairs from the reading lounge mysteriously needed to be in the recording studio. Everyone, including the faculty, seemed to assume someone else wanted it down here… It had taken Beth and me an hour to get it down and in without anyone noticing the move.
I plopped Bridget down on that chair and bent over her. Sex could wait, all the other preliminaries could wait, on this… I leaned in and kissed her. She moaned a little as our lips first touched, and she almost instantly shushed herself, mostly by reaching and pulling my head down against her and locking her mouth onto mine. Aside from confessing that I really did almost come, just from the touch of her lips, I will only say about that first, magical kiss that, holy cow did she have a wonderful tongue, capable of mighty feats. In no time, I lost my balance over her and collapsed on top of her. We managed not to hurt each other in the fall, and I almost forgot about the things her tongue was doing to first my mouth, then my ear and my throat. I almost forgot because my hands had leapt with no restraint at all onto her breasts.
Ohhhh, those tits. They were so nice and big. They were incredibly firm and damn-near gravity-defying, but so warm and soft to the touch. And she definitely liked having them grabbed a little. Maybe a lot. Her nipples remained yearningly erect against my palms and fingertips. I wanted to suck on them so badly, but that would mean removing my mouth from Bridget’s face, and she was having none of that, holding my head firmly in place by the hair behind my ears as she kissed her own way from earlobes, to throat, to lips again.
Even if I lost half my hair, I had to move downward. I shook her grip from my hair and slid downward atop her. I stared down at those tits for a moment before just, spontaneously, burying my face between those incredible feeling mounds, rolling my head all around while pressing them against me.
I had to come up for air eventually (I exaggerate, of course. She was generous, not cartoonish), and found myself almost instantly wrapping my lips over the entire expanse of one tiny aureole, and sucking for all I was worth with a hunger that surprised me. It seemed to surprise Bridget. She gasped.
“Are you okay?” I asked, pausing. “Was that too hard?”
Bridget just responded by grabbing my head again and pulling me back against the same nipple. “Not… hard enough,” she groaned as I did my best to comply, sucking as hard as I could and flicking my tongue wildly over her erect nipple inside my mouth.
I decided I wanted to do this forever, though it would be hard to avoid starvation with this tit in my mouth permanently. I still would have given the idea a try, but I wanted to continue moving lower even more. I knew I had even better stuff to do.
I slid down her luscious torso, past her sleek, flat tummy, and came to rest, kneeling before her, between her trembling, spread legs. I leaned in.
Stale sweat is the worst smell on the planet. But fresh, well-earned sweat from exercise, rather than heat, can be intoxicating. Combined with the aroma of her pussy, I was practically drunk in moments.