The first girl I hooked up with at college didn’t want to date me, but she did let me tie her up, choke her, and fuck her in front of her virgin roommate. Said roommate wanted to touch a dick for the first time, and mine rose to the occasion. little bit of

(Make sure you check out my previous story about Diana, accessible via my profile! Not only does that story introduce Diana and the relationship we had, that’s where Noelle shows up first as well. Now, on with the show!)

You had them, didn’t you?

Maybe you have them now. Or maybe you just heard about them in that Sabrina Carpenter song.

Fuzzy. Pink. Handcuffs. Somehow, in college, almost every girl seemed to have them. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it really did seem like every girl I hooked up with from the age of eighteen to about twenty-four would, without fail, pull a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs out of her nightstand, where they had been cradling her vibrator, and, shyly, say something along the lines of: “I’ve never been brave enough to try these but…”

The first time I encountered them was on my friend Diana, while she writhed on her bed, with her roommate, Noelle, on top of her.

It’s not what you think.

“Hey!” Noelle cried, tossing her dirty blonde hair back over her shoulder when she saw me peeking into the room, watching them. “Did you know Diana was this ticklish?!”

“Traitor!” Diana squealed. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. She wore skin tight jeans, I remember, though of course, we all did—Millennial fashion trends being what they were. Her shirt was pulled up, almost to her bra, revealing her soft, pale, slightly plump belly. The freshman fifteen was a source of constant discussion and anxiety among the girls in my dorm, but to my eye, it just made most of the girls even more desirable, inflating boobs and butts. Girls who had shown up looking lean and child-like suddenly looked like women.

Noelle dove into Diana’s belly again, tickling her as she wiggled. Diana wailed, rolling from side to side, but this maneuver only exposed the tender, vulnerable sides of her tummy. By the time I joined Noelle in torturing her, she had tears running down her cheeks.

“I’m going to get you,” Diana whimpered. “I’m going to get you both. I’m going to murder you both in your sleep!”

It was hard to take her threats seriously. I’ll remind you, if you haven’t read the previous story about Diana, that she was remarkably short—well under five feet tall. Four feet eight inches or nine, as best I can remember. Her mother was also short, I noticed when she came to visit for parents’ weekend, but Diana’s little sister was not, and towered over the rest of her family at a gigantic five and a half feet. Diana had spent the first few years of her life in the Soviet Union, and then the former Soviet Union, and so she reasoned that it was ultimately a nutrition thing—she remembered how, in the bad old days in Minsk, getting to eat an egg was a special treat.

Noelle, by contrast, still had that lean, adolescent build so many girls came to college with. She wasn’t tall, but wasn’t nearly as short as Diana, and she had a slightly pinkish, olive complexion, as though she were always a bit sun kissed. Like Diana, she was Jewish, and if you traced back their ancestry, their families were even from approximately the same area, but they marveled at how different they looked: Noelle’s family had been in the country for over a hundred years at that point, having fled pogroms in the late 19^(th) century, and with her light hair and blue eyes, she looked classically “American,” whatever that might mean, whereas Diana, small, pale, with dark curly hair, was often mistaken for any number of other ethnicities. With her slight accent, people sometimes assumed she was Latina, but she also got Greek, Lebanese, Turkish, Armenian… For me, it was an early object lesson in how constructed and arbitrary these categories ultimately were, since Diana and Noelle’s ancestors may very well have been roommates back in the Pale of Settlement a century and a half ago.

I found Noelle profoundly attractive, and all the more so because she seemed so innocent, so naïve, so virginal. She was a very serious student, and though she was determined to avoid dating, much like Diana, she did not seem to have Diana’s passionate interest in sex. Diana had told me how she was often up studying when Diana stumbled in, sore from getting the absolute shit fucked out of her in my room or at a frat party, and they’d sit and drink tea together before turning in.

But Noelle wasn’t a prude. She was curious about Diana’s sex life, and after a bit of hesitancy on Diana’s part, she opened up, telling Noelle about our first time on the camping trip, among her other misadventures. Sometimes, when I passed Noelle heading out to the library on my way into her shared room with Diana, she would give me a big smile and a wink.

“You kids have fun!”

She was plenty silly, too, in a way that only made her more endearing. She loved the song Teenage Dirty Bag, which features a preppy girl named Noelle, object of the TBG’s affection, and reveals herself to be a dirt bag as well by the end of the song, and she and Diana would often play it, switching off parts so Noelle could sing the parts where the fictional Noelle sang. The irony of a Jewish girl name Noelle wasn’t lost on her, and she explained that her fiercely secular parents loved Christmas, and the name, by extension.

“Noelle is ticklish too!” Diana declared in a last ditch effort to save herself. I turned to Noelle, whose eyes widened, her pink cheeks growing even redder as her smile somehow became bigger, seeing the tables turned.

“No,” she said, still grinning. “No, don’t you dare—”

“Get her!” Diana squealed, panting, as I scooped up Noelle, tossing her on the bed and sliding my hands up her sweater to get at her belly as she squealed.

“Diana, how could you?!” Noelle wailed, giggling and squirming as I tickled her. I figured this was the closest I’d get to fucking her any time soon, since she seemed so uninterested in sex, but I didn’t want to cross any lines and actually make her uncomfortable, so I made sure to keep my hands limited to her belly and her sides. Still, the feeling of her abs flexing and twitching beneath her impossibly butter smooth skin as she laughed and writhed made me hard, and I soon had to abandon the whole endeavor, lest my boner ruin the mood.

Now, both girls were panting and giggling as I unlocked Diana’s hand cuffs. She rubbed her wrists and gave a little mock scowl.

“I can’t believe you two,” she said, but she wasn’t angry. They were both still a little loopy from the tickling. “Noelle, remember, I know where you sleep.”

Noelle stuck out her tongue. After a bit more chit-chat, Noelle gathered up her things and announced she was going to the library.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” she said, putting extra emphasis on the word privacy. “But Diana, remember what happens when you’re too loud.”

Diana grumbled quietly to herself. The other week, Diana had summoned me after she’d come home a bit buzzed from a frat party, not having managed to get fucked, and the sex that followed left her screaming. Screaming so loud that someone on our floor—we never found out who—called campus security and Diana had to explain, while wearing her comforter like a robe to hide her nakedness, that she was perfectly safe and actually having a very nice time. Noelle had shown up near the end of this episode and had confirmed to security that I was a very nice boy and that Diana was a noisy person.

Once Noelle had left, Diana climbed into my lap and tugged my arm around her neck.

“Buy a guy a drink first.” Diana looked up at me and pouted.

“Come onnnn…” she moaned. “I thought you liked choking me.”

I did, but not as much as Diana liked being choked.

I’d first learned about this predilection of hers during sex when she put my hand on her throat and whispered, begged me to choke her. I tightened my grip and she bit her lip and nodded, grunting softly as I thrust wetly into her greedy little pussy.

“Harder,” she whispered, and I tightened my grip more. “Harder. As hard as you can.”

“Dude,” I said, once I’d gone past what I was comfortable doing to her. “If I go any harder, I’m going to fuck up your windpipe.”

“I don’t care,” she moaned. “I want you to choke me really fucking hard.”

From martial arts and wrestling, I knew about the difference between blood chokes and air chokes. Both are dangerous, but the former can be done much more safely than the latter. I slid out of her—I’d already cum once inside of her, and so my jizz flowed out of her messy, tiny pussy and dripped all over the bed—and turned her over. I looped my arm around her neck, and then held her tight against me, putting my other hand on the back of her skull.

“When you start to feel dizzy or light headed, tap my arm. It shouldn’t take long. You’ll pass out quick if I do this, okay?”

She nodded, and I choked her. She tapped my arm after a second and moaned as soon as I let up.

“Do that again,” she whimpered. “Do it again.”

And so, every time we hooked up, part of our foreplay inevitably involved choking. Nothing seemed to get Diana hotter and more turned on faster. She said the sensation of being so helpless, so small and vulnerable, did it for her. I was so much bigger than her, and I could easily overwhelm her and use her as I pleased. She’d break out in a cold sweat that she’d later apologize for, but I always kind of liked that—feeling for myself how visceral of an experience it was for her.

Now, with her on my lap, I tightened my arm a bit around her neck, letting her slide her throat into the crook of my elbow. I forced my hand down the front of her jeans and found her wet mound.

I felt stubble from the last time she’d shaved. She’d gotten a bit lazy about it, and I was partially to blame. She’d been waxed the first time I got her naked, but when I let her know that I didn’t mind a hairy pussy, she resolve to let it grow out and give her skin a break. Invariably, though, she’d let it grow for a week or so and then decide she didn’t like the look of it and end up shaving. Then, the irritation and ingrown hairs would lead to her deciding that she’d let it grow and the cycle would begin again.

“You’re soaked,” I growled in her ear. “Did the tickling turn you on?”

“Maybe,” she murmured.

“Were you this soaked when it was just Noelle tickling you?”

“I… I don’t think so… But I was definitely wet…” she admitted, and to reward her for that, I tightened my grip around her neck. I pinned her head against my chest, holding her tight as she let out a soft sigh and went slack in my arms before tapping my thigh. She took a big breath when I let her breathe again and moaned.

I unzipped her jeans and positioned the two of us so we were facing the full length mirror. In this position, I could see her face and I’d know if she passed out before she could tap out. It hadn’t happened yet but since she loved doing this so much, I was afraid she would try to push herself as far as she could.

“Touch yourself,” I said. In the mirror, I saw her kick her jeans down a bit till they were around her ankles and she spread her little thighs, revealing the sticky burrow of flesh between her legs. She slid a hand between her thighs and moaned softly as I choked her again, releasing her before she could tap my thigh.

“Yes,” she moaned when she could breathe again. “I needed this.”

I choked her again, holding it longer this time and letting her tap out. From her whimpers, I could tell she was getting close.

“Did Noelle touch you anywhere else? Besides your stomach?” I whispered in her ear. Of course, I wanted to find out more about this sexy little scene I’d walked in on.

“Not really,” Diana gasped. “I was showing her the handcuffs and I said I might ask you to use them on me… And then I let her put them on me and she started tickling me…”

We had both speculated about Noelle’s sexuality. The only time she’d ever gotten drunk at college, as far as we knew, was at a wine and cheese reception hosted by the art gallery that didn’t bother to card students. She hadn’t liked the cabernet or the merlot she tried, but found that she loved the slightly too sweet prosecco they were pouring. When she and Diana returned to their room, she’d climbed into Diana’s bed and kissed her. Diana, for her part, had been surprised, but not unpleasantly so. She’d confided in me that she felt like it was important that she try sex with girls in college, as part of the experimentation she wanted to undertake. They had made out for a few minutes and then, just like that, Noelle had stumbled out of bed, into the bathroom, and started puking. Diana had not mentioned the hook up to Noelle, and Noelle didn’t give any indication that she remembered it.

“I bet you’d like to watch me fuck her,” Diana said, a devilishly snarling smile curling over her face. “Teach her how to eat pussy.”

For that, I rewarded Diana with a hard choke and I watched as the smile faded on her face, as her body stopped moving except for her fingers on her pussy. She banged her hand against my thigh and gasped when I let go.

“Fuck, I was close there,” she moaned. I pulled up her shirt and her bra with it, revealing her cup cake sized boobs. I tweaked one of her nipples hard. At first, she’d protest when I was rough with her nipples, but at times like this, she whimpered graciously. “Yes, just like that.”

As she brought herself closer and closer to cumming, I choked her again, and held it until she was just about to cum. Then, I let go, allowing her to take a breath before choking her again. She wasn’t expecting that, and it was clear on her face, from the shock, fear, surprise, and pleasure distorting her features, that the surprise had worked. When I let her breathe again, she let out a sob and she was cumming, spasming in my arms like a wounded animal.

“Fuuuuck,” Diana moaned, sliding out of my arms when I released her and collapsing onto the bed on her side. “That was awesome. I never cum that hard with anyone else.”

She was very insistent that we remain friends with benefits, even though she was happy to allow that I had some privileges beyond her other fuck buddies. We agreed to use protection with everyone else, for instance, and saved unprotected sex for one another. Maybe that wasn’t actually as smart and safe as it seemed, but it felt sophisticated and sexy at the time.

Any time she seemed to maybe think that one of us was getting too attached to the other, she’d start suggesting other possible sexual partners for me. I had, by this point in the year, a couple other girls I’d hook up with occasionally, but Diana didn’t totally understand that a guy couldn’t proposition a girl he liked with the same expectation of success that she could walk into a frat part with, knowing full well that she could be bent over a card table in fifteen minutes or less if she really wanted it.

“Did you cop a feel of Noelle?” Diana asked, as she kicked her jeans the rest of the way off. She undid her bra and tossed away her shirt and spread her arms wide on her bed like a starfish. She was positively dwarfed by the length of the standard twin bed, and the contrast only served to emphasize how small she was. “Maybe tickle her somewhere else?”

“No,” I said with a laugh. “I just don’t think she’s, like, into that.” Diana was fully aware that I liked Noelle, and did her best, she claimed, to talk me up in her presence, praising me as a lover and as a friend. Diana said Noelle still hadn’t expressed interest directly, but just usually giggled and blushed while listening to her stories of bouncing on my dick or cumming.

Now, I was undressing quickly, and climbed on top of Diana. She had a habit of giggling incessantly after cumming. She’d describe it like a drug, and judging from how she acted, she was addicted.

I let her wrap her legs around my waist as I slid into her eager pussy. Even after cumming, she was still impossibly tight—maybe the tightest girl I’ve ever been with. I was amazed that she could have as much sex as she did, considering how it often felt like I was ripping her apart with my cock. She’d wince and whimper as I slid inside of her, and gasp, digging her nails into my shoulders and pressing her hips to me when I buried myself into her up to the hilt.

Depending on the angle, I might hit her cervix—if that happened, she’d need me to stop everything I was doing and take it slow. If I didn’t, she liked me to start off fast—the sensation of being taken hard and fast made her feel small again, and she loved pulling back her legs as far as they would go, making herself almost like a little yoga knot.

That evening, though, she held onto me with her thighs, bucking against me as I thrust into her. I put my hand on her throat, applying only gentle pressure, which she loved. Her mouth hung open in a silent, permanent scream of pleasure and pain. I felt her tighten around me, felt her twitch, and I knew from experience she could cum soon if I played my cards right. I didn’t change anything I was doing, except that I tightened my grip on her throat a bit more.

In moments, she was cumming around my dick, squealing and actually crying a bit. I was deep inside of her and I could feel her entire body clamping down on me, holding my cock tight.

I slid out of her and grabbed her roughly by the hair—she loved this as well—and guided her face towards my cock. She sucked me without needing to be told, eagerly gobbling up the first few inches of my cock.

“You want to take it deep?” I asked her.

“I don’t know if I can.” She was panting, but despite what she’d said, she opened her mouth as wide as she could and leaned forward, impaling her face on my cock until I heard her gag. The wet, sloppy squawking sound of her throat gagging on me drove me wild. I held her there, fingers in her dark curls, as I felt her struggle against me. She liked sucking cock, but she had to be in a particularly nasty mood to want to do this. She gagged hard and tapped frantically at my hip to be released.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, retching. “I don’t know why I let you do that to me.”

“I think you like it. You say that, but I think you’re just trying to pretend you don’t like it as much as you do.”

She flipped me off. I was getting to know her too well.

I reached for the handcuffs and cuffed her hands behind her back, just like Noelle had had her. She knelt on all fours, ass up, on her bed, wiggling her bottom enticingly as I took my position behind her. Here, I could see her face in the mirror. In fact, I could see both of us and I watched myself penetrate her from behind, holding her wrists by the cuffs. This extended her arms back and thrust her chest forward.

Diana’s face shattered into a wincing sob as she cried out softly, her warm, wet depths enveloping me.

“Oh my god, yes,” she groaned. “That’s good. That’s it. Just like that. Use me, baby.”

She panted as I drove into her, gasping and moaning softly. Her moans were building, and soon, I was worried about our neighbors on the floor hearing. I reached for her panties and her t-shirt and, balling them up, stuffed them in her mouth. This muffled, but didn’t fully stop her cries of pleasure.

In this position now, she felt even tighter, but her body was all the more responsive. As I thrust into her, it was like I was cutting through her, only for her body to close back up as I pulled away. It was such a specific sensation, one I’m not sure I’ve ever quite felt while fucking any other girl, or maybe I’m just remembering Diana’s pussy with an extra thick dollop of nostalgia.

Anyway, I think I could be forgiven for not paying attention to either of our cell phones while I was fucking her, which meant that I didn’t see the texts that warned us about what was about to happen.

The door to Diana’s room suddenly opened and in peeked Noelle’s head.

“Um, sorry, I forgot my charger, I texted to let you guys know I was coming back,” she said, and it all came out as one word.

Diana said something muffled and I reached to pull the gag out of her mouth. Noelle scampered into the room, covering her eyes, and immediately tripped over a chair. As she got to her feet, she seemed to have lost sense of where she was going and stepped into Diana’s desk, driving the corner hide into her hip.

“Dude,” Diana said. “Open your eyes. It’s fine.”

It was clear that Noelle was extra embarrassed now, after this display, and she dropped her hands, looking defeated.

“S-sorry, you guys. Don’t mind me—you can just pretend I’m not here,” she said, and quickly darted over to her desk, which was a huge mess.

My cock hadn’t softened one bit throughout this encounter, and if anything, having Noelle there only made me harder, were that possible.

“Keep going,” Diana whispered, as though sensing my desire to continue. I pushed her face down into the bed and began to fuck her again, thrusting into her as I muffled her moans with a pillow.

A moment later, I realized that Noelle was staring at us through the mirror. Watching. She held the charger in one hand, and her other made a loose fist, like she didn’t know what to do with it or herself. Her mouth had dropped open and she looked like a child who’d gotten to the front of the line at an amusement park, only for the operator to go on lunch.

Our eyes met and she didn’t look away. I felt myself starting to smile as I thrust into her roommate. Her eyes softened, and looked, dare I say, pleading—pleading for what, though?

That look in her eyes pushed me over the edge, though. Not Diana’s moans or the handcuffs or her impossibly tight cunt, but the look of unplaceable, impotent yearning on Noelle’s flushed face. I felt my lips snarl as I groaned, cumming into Diana, pulling hard on the handcuffs as I leaned forward and thrust as fiercely into her as I could.

“Um, sorry again,” Noelle murmured, quickly rushing past us to the door, and then she was gone.

Afterwards, Diana and I lay talking about her. I told her how she’d stayed to watch, how she’d been transfixed. She’d reminded me of the squirrel who stops in the middle of the road, petrified, as a car comes careening down the street.

“I mean, I guess she’s never seen sex before,” Diana said. “And you were doing me pretty rough…”

“The way she looked at me,” I said. “It was like she was a totally different person.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Diana concluded. “Who knows, maybe she’s up for a threesome?”

Obviously, that was what I wanted too, but speaking my desire aloud seemed like inviting misfortune.

Diana did talk to Noelle later that night, and texted me to clue me in.

Noelle didn’t mind if we had sex in the room when she was there, apparently. She felt bad about chasing us out to study. This had, actually, been something of an impediment to us having as much sex together as we wanted. My own roommate, a willowy theater gay, often had gentlemen callers of his own, and he often made his plans well in advance, while Diana preferred to be spontaneous—this was the value of being friends with benefits, she insisted. As a result, we sometimes ended up going to the library if Noelle was studying in their room, or walking around campus until we found a quiet corner outside that wasn’t too chilly. I have fond memories of these horny walks, and of noting places on campus during the day that could offer shelter to me and one of my lovers, but I have to admit now that having ready access to a bedroom belonging to me and me alone is superior.

Diana didn’t mention if they’d discussed the way Noelle lingered, but she did say that she had insisted that Noelle could watch us if we wanted. That had made Noelle giggle and blush and she, in turn, insisted that she’d just ignore us but we could do as we pleased and she’d put on headphones.

For the next few days, Diana was constantly inviting me over to their room—and she seem determined to make sure it was when Noelle was there.

“I’m trying to let her see you in action, dude,” Diana once said after our morning lectures, on the way back to the dorm. “I’m like your wingman. Wingwoman.”

These terms were new back then. That pick-up artist show starring Mystery had only just aired on VH1 and while everyone made fun of it, the vocabulary had already seeped into our minds.

In their room, we found Noelle still in bed, the sun streaming in over her. She had a stuffed rabbit clutched between her arms and Diana put a finger to her lips. She had me lay down on her bed, and pulled my pants down. Next, she slid off her panties and mounted me, squeaking as my cock tore through her, impaling her.

Noelle yelped when she awoke to Diana riding me but then yawned.

“Oh, good morning, you two.” She seemed too sleepy to be scandalized. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Noelle didn’t have class until 4:30 in the afternoon, and since she tended to stay up late, she’d often sleep till noon or later. She watched Diana ride me for a moment and then tumbled out of bed. I was pleased to see she wore nothing but a faded pair of striped blue and yellow panties and a t-shirt, and I was treated to a glimpse of her butt as she scampered off to the bathroom.

Noelle emerged from the bathroom with a toothbrush in her mouth and a glass of water. She stood in the door watching Diana ride before disappearing back into the bathroom to rinse her mouth. I noticed that her nipples were hard, and poking through her t-shirt. Diana caught me staring at her and smirked down at me.

That must have been on a Tuesday, because the next time Diana invited me over to fuck while Noelle was in bed, I saw Noelle wake up and watch us from her bed while I thrust into Diana, lying atop her. I smiled at her, and she, sheepishly, smiled and gave me a little wave. Diana craned her neck back from her position with her legs spread to see her roommate.

“Sorry, did we wake you? Ahhh, fuck, yes…”

“No,” Noelle said. “It’s okay.”

“You can come closer to watch, if you want,” Diana said. I expected Noelle to demur, but instead, setting aside the stuffed rabbit, she got out of bed and pulled up a chair. She was close to us now and she leaned in, staring at the spot where my cock entered Diana.

“Does it feel good?” she asked, looking at Diana. “Sorry—dumb question.”

“It does,” Diana cooed. “And his dick is really, really nice. It touches all the right places.” I thrust harder into her and she yelped in delight. “Like that!”

“You’re so wet, Di,” she said. Diana, having grown up mostly speaking Russian until her preteen years, tended to pronounce her name Dee-ana, with the D softened almost to the point of being a J. Her mother called her Dianchik, but her little sister called her Di, and Noelle and I had both picked up that practice. “It’s kind of… loud, huh? Like, squishy?”

“That’s how you know it’s good,” Diana moaned. “Sorry, I know we smell like sex too.”

“I don’t mind. I kind of like it. I mean, it doesn’t smell like much to me.”

Noelle swallowed hard. I could see she was embarrassed by being so close to us, by being so obviously curious about sex, and as much as I wanted to relieve her of that embarrassment, I was also enjoying it, if only because it gave me license to believe that I myself was not embarrassed, if that made sense.

I slipped my cock all the way out of Diana and Noelle let out a soft gasp as she saw it, pink and throbbing, bobbing slightly as I aimed and stabbed into her roommate again. This time, a lewd farting sound emitted from Diana as she snorted. Noelle giggled.

“That’s a queef,” Diana said. “That’s what happens if the guy fucking you decides to mess around and let air get inside—”

I couldn’t help myself. I slid all the way out of her again, and fucked myself back into her, making the same sound and also making her gasp. Noelle giggled, covering her face. I was close already, and the tinkling sound of her laughter pushed me over the edge as I groaned, emptying my load into Diana.

“Wow,” Noelle said, unironically impressed as I slid out of Diana. She stared at the creampie, jizz dripping out of her friend. “That looks… like a lot. What does it feel like?”

“You should try it for yourself!” Diana said and stuck out her togue. She was sweaty and flushed and the sight of her, lying spread on her bed, with her roommate sticking her face so close to her crotch, was enough to start hardening my cock once more.

Noelle dissolved into giggles at this. Ugh, she was so cute, I remember thinking, as my dick grew hard again.

“Hey,” Diana said suddenly. “Didn’t you say the other day you thought you might like to touch a cock?”

Noelle’s face positively burned.

“Did I say that?” she replied in a sing-songy fashion that told me two things: first, that she actually had said it, and second, she didn’t think Diana was going to bring it up at a time like this. “I don’t know if I remember that…”

“You definitely did. You should try his dick!” she said, elbowing me where I sat next to her. “Look, he’s still hard.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Noelle mumbled.

“For what it’s worth,” I put in. “I don’t mind.”

Diana and I both watched with manic grins on our faces as Noelle pulled her chair closer and leaned forward, bringing her face to within a foot of my dick.

“Di, how does this all even fit inside of you?” she said finally.

“He has to work really hard to get it inside, and then it hurts to sit afterwards. That makes it sound like it’s not fun, but it really is.”

Noelle pursed her lips and nodded. She reached a hand out towards my cock tentatively, and then hesitated.

“It’s all… sticky… with your stuff. Is it weird if I touch it?”

Of course, I was slimy with Diana’s pussy juices and my cum. Before either of us could tell her, honestly, that yeah, this all was kind of weird—that if, years later, we were telling this story, our audience would be forgiven for not believing us—she took hold my dick in her surprisingly strong palm.

“Oh, it’s so warm!” she gasped, not without approval. “Wow, it feels so different from what I thought!”

She moved her hand up and down, moving the flesh of my cock with it as I moaned softly beneath my breath.

“Is that… okay?” she said, looking up at me.

“That feels good, Noelle.”

“Oh, good!”

She started moving her hand a bit faster.

“I like how soft it is. But also hard. And it’s neat how I can feel your pulse inside. Wow, it’s so, so hard. It’s kind of amazing it’s just blood and not bone, when it feels so hard.”

“It feels even neater inside of you,” Diana said with a sly grin. Noelle giggled. “Or in your mouth. You could put just a bit in your mouth.”

“In my mouth?” Noelle asked, jerking me faster. She stuck out her tongue and it looked like she’d never considered using it for anything but eating and licking lollipops.

“In your mouth,” Diana said. Noelle hesitated and then lowered her face to the head of my cock. She was still jerking me off, and despite how inexpert her grip was, a bit too hard, and her movements not really regular or coordinated, it was easily the best hand job I’d ever received just by virtue of her wide eyed innocence enveloping my angry red and purple dick. Her lips were almost touching the thick head of my cock when she stopped.

“Wait, is it gonna’ taste funny?”

“It’s gonna’ taste like dick, Noelle.”

“I mean, it’s going to taste like you, Di! He was just inside you.”

“It’ll taste like his cum too,” Diana said, and I heard an impatient tone in her voice. “If you’re not going to suck him, let me.”

That was enough to do it. Noelle stuck her tongue out and ran it around my cock, licked the head like a popsicle, and then took the whole head in her mouth.

It was almost too late. I gasped.

“Noelle, wait, I’m going to—”

I figured I shouldn’t cum in her mouth without giving her a heads up but at the same time, it snuck up on me—I hadn’t expected to lose control when I felt her delicate lips and her velvety tongue making gentle love to the most sensitive part of my cock.

Noelle pulled my cock out of her mouth but it was too late.

I blew my load.

All over her face.

She’d put her glasses on as soon as she woke up, no doubt in order to watch us better, and now, cum glazed them. Streaks of cum landed in her hair, on her shirt, on her lips, everywhere. It glistened against her flushed skin, like waterfalls cutting through a mountainside at dusk.

Diana and I both stared at her, mouths agape. Suddenly, she leapt to her feet and dashed off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. We heard her gargling and spitting, and then the shower.

“I think I should go,” I murmured to Diana. My friend winced and nodded.

“I’ll, uh, talk to her.”

We had no idea what Noelle was thinking until half an hour later, when she emerged. Diana texted me after they talked.

We’re all good, she explained. She was just embarrassed. She says she’s sorry for running off but she was really surprised. She, like, short-circuited. But she’s not mad or anything.

Also, she wrote. She admitted that she liked the taste.

I’ll end here for now. There’s plenty more that transpired between the three of us that first year of college, but I’ll save that for future stories.