I wrote this story - and the following chapters - last year but finally decided to post them up. These are somewhat based on real events (names changed, of course), or on real fantasies I've had or still have about friends from the past.
I'll post the chapters in the order in which I wrote them; some might be shorter than others, or more erotic than others, but read through them all and tell me what you think!
--------
Randall is an old friend of mine from college.Both of us are in our early 20s, only a few years out of school and still trying to find our respective ways in the world.Randallâs a pretty big guy, about 6â5â, and on more than one occasion heâs been called to help out with a backcountry arrest for the local Forest Service.As far as I know, heâs never killed a man, but there were times in college I remember having to lock him in his room during a party that was threatening to get out of control for one reason or another.
While Randall and I were pretty much alike in terms of women, him being more around town than I am allows him to have more interactions with the local girls â interactions and relationships of all manners.In college he favored the smaller girls, usually the gymnasts and cheerleaders who usually overlooked his obsession with comic books (when they wouldnât overlook mine) and went straight for his Herculean physique and Casanova charm.
One time at a party at our house, I was searching for another friend to go get high and walked into my own bedroom to see Randall and a coworker of mine, Jane, fucking with great gusto.She couldnât have been taller than 5â0â, but was super fit and wore the most revealing, skin-tight dresses on a regular basis.Her body was unbelievably proportional: she accentuated her orange-sized tits with stiff bras, and often wore her hair up to reveal the soft slope of her back, interrupted by her perfectly rounded ass, before continuing on down to her tight bronzed legs.
I donât know if she dressed like this on purpose, for the attention, or just liked looking this way, but in our office on campus there was nary a straight man who could walk past our cubicle and not linger a glance in her direction.It only helped matters that she was an education major with a 4.0 GPA, sat on the boards of a few student councils, and was the teaching assistant for the freshman-100 class.She was the epitome of a college boyâs sexual idol.
Randall had Jane wrapped in his beefy arms, hooking his arms beneath her knees with her back against the wall, three or four feet off the ground.Her facial expression alternated between utter serenity, with half-closed eyes gazing dreamily into Randallâs eyes, her mouth slightly open and her shoulders relaxed; and absolute pleasure with her head arched back and eyes closed tightly, mouth open and neck tensed.Her toes curled and her feet flexed, and she hung onto Randallâs neck and hair for dear life as he threatened to join her as a wrecking ball through my wall into the bathroom.Randallâs hands grasped Janeâs shapely ass cheeks, and Iâm certain he would fondle if not enter the exit only hole, dead center in that perfect rear end, at some time during the night.
Entering that forbidden abode was something he never wouldâve tried had he and I not started trading stories. We were admittedly like sorority girls, Randall and me: sharing sex tales and tips.We found that since we ran in similar but slightly different circles, overlap of partners was to be expected even when she didnât know we were friends until the next morning, when weâd cook our dates breakfast before driving them back to campus.I told him once about a girl, Lizzy, who liked fingers going where the sun doesnât shine (but no more, as I promptly learned), and the next night he introduced his then-partner to analingus and fingering.
Itâs not for everyone, but thereâs no way to know if anyone likes it without trying!
When I opened the door and let in the dance music playing downstairs, Randall glanced in my direction.He continued pumping into Jane, acting like a pendulum slamming their pelvises together as his rod entered Janeâs cunt, then backed out, then re-entered with passionate force.Weâd seen each other naked on occasion (coincidental accidents, I promise) and I know his cock to be larger than mine, about eight inches, and thicker.According to some shared long-term partners, though, I have much more finesse and passion than Randall, so regardless if size actually matters, the âmotion of the oceanâ certainly counts, too.
Randall kept his torso nearly still, using only his arms and legs to drive himself into Jane over and over again.She emitted little squeaks to match his deep grunts, and I saw her small but firm boobs squished between their bodies.
âHey man,â he said through heavy breathing and sweat.
I quickly processed what I was seeing and responded, as if nothing unusual was happening just feet from the handwritten draft of my mid-term paper, lying on my desk.
âHey.Seen Dave?â
Randall grunted a long moan as Jane leaned forward and hugged close with all four of her muscular limbs wrapped around him.He released one leg as Jane linked her feet behind Randall, and placed his hand on the wall to steady himself, allowing a brief respite from their seemingly violent activity to talk.He held her close to him with his other arm around her, and his cock stayed in her.Her legs twitched and shook as the pleasure continued to rock through her body, as she continued to massage his pulsating penis within her hot pussy.She squeezed her ass muscles to keep the action alive between them, and gyrated her hips into his, making him have to catch his breath again from the stimulation before answering me.Jane flashed a sultry grin at Randall and as she leaned back a bit from him, she took one hand to rub the nipple on one of her handful-sized breasts.
Randall looked at her then back at me, âYea, outside, I think.[grunt]Smoking.â
I looked at Jane, and she looked right at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, shaded by her loosely tied-up blonde hair.I winked, smiled, and waved jokingly.I donât think she knew that Randall and I were friends, let alone that we lived in the same house.I have even greater doubt she knew that they were actually having their chimpanzee sex in my bedroom.We were co-workers, but rarely interacted outside of the office.
If she wasnât in the throws of orgasmic pleasure with a man three times her size, I have no doubt she wouldâve said something, or at least given me a confused look.But what she could accomplish then, with sweat dripping off her face onto Randallâs chest and down her back to cascade off her ass, was just a loopy smile.
âGreat, thanks.Donât break anything,â I said as I pointed to the picture of my high school graduation class in its frame, inches from Randallâs massive hand resting upon the wall.I nodded to Randall, backed out of my room, closed the door, and shook my head at a couple standing in the hallway who mustâve seen that surprisingly calm â yet understandably potentially awkward â exchange.
âItâs alright.Weâre good friends,â I said to them.
The guy in the couple chuckled, and went back to making out with his date.His date was leaning against Randallâs door, with her legs spread and the guysâ hand up her skirt.Her top was askew and one hefty boob hung out.I couldnât see exactly who the girl was, but Iâm sure she had spent more than a few nights in our house, in more than just one bed.Such is the life of the hosts of the designated party house at least three student clubs at a major state university.