Sophomore year I was pretty close with this girl named Jenna. We’d known each other since freshman year through mutual friends, hung out in the same group, grabbed food together sometimes, that kind of thing. Not best friends, but comfortable enough that we could talk about random shit without it being weird.
One night, after a few too many tequila shots, she opened up to me about her lack of experience with blowjobs. Like, she'd only given one before and was super insecure about it. Next thing I know, we're back at my place and she's asking if she can, ahem, "practice" on me.
I thought she was joking. She wasn’t.
I said something dumb like “I mean… yeah?” and she got quiet for a second, then asked if I was actually serious. We talked about it for a few more minutes-no strings, just practice, don’t make it weird, etc. I was half convinced it would never happen again.
First time was awkward as hell. She knelt between my legs on the edge of my bed, jeans still on, and just stared at my dick for a solid ten seconds like it was a problem set. Then she wrapped her hand around it, gave a few experimental strokes, and leaned in. The first few attempts were all teeth and too much pressure. I hissed once and she jerked back, mortified.
“Sorry-fuck, sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just… lips over teeth".
She nodded, focused, and tried again. This time the wet heat of her mouth closed around the head and she took me deeper, slow, testing. I felt her tongue flatten along the underside, then swirl experimentally. She pulled off with a soft pop and looked up.
“Like that?”
“Yeah. Keep going. Use your hand at the base so you don’t choke.”
She got into a rhythm faster than I expected. One hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach, the other resting lightly on my thigh like she was steadying herself. Every time she took me a little farther I felt her throat tighten and then relax as she adjusted. She started humming once, quiet, almost accidental—and the vibration shot straight up my spine. I told her. She did it again on purpose.
By the third session she was treating it like homework. She’d come back from class, drop her bag, lock the door, and just say “practice?” like she was asking if I wanted to study. She’d edge me for twenty minutes, pulling off every time I got close, then ask what she should try next. Deeper. Slower. Faster. Using her tongue in tight circles just under the head while she looked up at me. Swallowing without making a face. Letting me rest a hand in her hair without pushing.
One night she stayed down longer than usual, eyes watering a little, cheeks hollowed, and when she finally pulled off a string of spit connected her bottom lip to my cock. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, breathing hard, and whispered, “I think I’m getting good at this.”
She was.
We kept going the rest of the semester. Sometimes she’d practice after a long day just to decompress. Sometimes she’d edge me until I was shaking and then finish me properly, swallowing everything while she looked mildly proud of herself. Once she timed how long she could keep me on the edge. Another time she practiced deep-throating until her eyes watered and her mascara ran a little, then sat back on her heels, wiped her chin, and asked if that had been better than last week.
It was. Every time it was.
We never fucked. Never kissed. Never even talked about it outside the room. When the semester ended she she went for a semester abroad. We eventually drifted apart, and I haven't spoken to her in years.
But, I recently saw on social media that she's married now and seems super happy.