As Jerry was six-three and quite broad-shouldered, the preppy boys behaved. But the Bambies were not amused. I mean, here they were, used to the attention of the sexually frustrated prep males, and here I was giving them what these bitches would not. And that, of course, eventually led to a confrontation.
Jerry stepped out of the room while I was “engaged,” but I was too busy getting spit-roasted by two novice preppy guys to notice. It took them very little time to cum and gave me the time to wipe down the front guy’s cum from my tits. It was then that I noticed that there was no continuation to the sex “train” I was pulling – no next guy.
Opening the door naked as a jaybird, I saw Jerry and this good-looking prep talking. Good-looking prepper stared at my body briefly, then went back to talking to Jerry. As they conversed in low tones, I took the time to appraise this young man. He had upperclassman written all over him. They are more confident than newbies, and I could have sworn I had seen him earlier sitting with a butterfly Bamby. She had her arm around him as a sign of ownership. ‘How conventionally basic,’ I had thought, reminded of Marisol’s description of the type.
“Look, Paul,” Jerry addressed the young man, “we’re just having fun.”
“The girls here are not happy that your… sister… is pulling a train with the lower-classmen. We just don’t do that at our frat.
“I know you’re a greek council rep for Alpha, but….”
“I’m also the frat president,” Paul corrected him.
“Good for you, Paul,” Jerry said. “But we meant no harm. These guys can certainly use the action….”
“I understand, Jerry,” Paul had replied politely. “Just not on our turf. The girls are upset, and it will cause problems for us. Take it somewhere else, and you and I go in peace.”
I saw the hesitation in Jerry’s face and knew the fun was over. As I turned to go back and get dressed, I heard Jerry concede. By the time I dressed and went back out, the Paul guy was back to his butterfly, and I made my way past a group of disappointed Alpha guys who had been waiting their turn.
“Sorry guys,” I said and headed out, followed by Jerry.
“What a bunch of killjoys,” he said once we were outside.
“Let’s go to my flat,” I said to him. “I’m horny as hell.”
“What I like about you, Paula,” he said and groped my ass.
Jerry and I had fun that evening, but my mind was on the tall guy from the frathouse mixer.
“So Jerry, who was that guy you were talking to at the Delta house?”
“Paul Donnelly. Not your type Paula.”
“How do you know what my type is?”
“I know who your type is not,” he replied with a smirk. “Goody-goody preps who pass moral judgment on others at the drop of a hat. You told me that last month. What? You changed your mind?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m still me in case you missed what I was doing with those freshmen back there. I just found him… you know… interesting.”
Jerry scoffed at that.
“Did he make your panties all wet?”
I tried not to show it, but it was true. Paul was handsome and had intrigued me. the way he had said ‘just not on our turf,’ was non judgemental. As if Paul didn’t want to judge Jerry and I. Yet Paul had merely wanted to stand his ground for his frat and the girls that were guests there.
“He was very… diplomatic,” I replied.
“Paul is known for that. A problem solver of sorts. But, as a man, he is very vanilla – a boy scout. His only vice has been talking some virgins into giving him their cherry. Like I said, not your type.”
“And you are my type?” I smirked as I played with jerry’s resurging cock.
“I have no delusions, Paula,” he replied. “I’m your type… tonight.”
“We need more like you, Jerry,” I replied with a chuckle.
But the reality was that both Jerry and I were friends with benefits. Nothing more. I certainly had a collection of guys like him in my life. They were fun to hang around and fill my bed when I wanted them to. But nothing more than that.
***
The following day, Jerry gave me a piece of paper with Paul Donnelly’s number on it. Jerry was such a good friend to me then. He sensed my interest in Paul and gave me what I wanted. No jealousy or theatrics. After all, we were buddies. And true friends wish to make each other happy.
“He is a senior, you know,” Jerry said as he made us eggs and coffee.
I knew he meant Paul. He would be graduating that year.
“He writes for the college paper. IFA.”
“The Indepeenent Florida Aligator,” I giggled at my distortion of the word independent. “What a goofy name for a university newspaper.”
“I’m sure there are worse,” Jerry said, offering me a plate with scrambled eggs. “Did you get us coffee?”
“No, I wanted to be served.”
“Fuck that, Paula,” he replied in feigned indignation. “Do I have to do everything?”
“Well, you can’t give yourself a blowjob, Jerr. That’s where I come in,” I replied coyly as I pushed him down on a chair.
Then I dropped my robe and filled a cup of coffee for him. Jerry smiled as he took the mug, and I fell on my knees. His eggs and mine got cold. But by then, I already had some protein for breakfast, which I washed down with coffee.
***
I have to be honest here. I pursued Paul Donnelly as he hardly knew me. From what he said, he had seen me around campus. But that was it. And I found out a bit about him. His specialty had been doing the Bambies from the preppy sorority pool, just as Jerry had said. In fact, he was quite successful at that, from what my contacts informed me.
Doing my homework on Paul, I made sure his then-girlfriend was in class, and Paul was at the library studying. One thing led to another, and boy scout Paul had asked me on a date. We did that back then. I mean the collective we of my generation. Yet, for me personally, dating was a rarity.
Paul took me to this small restaurant away from college. I guess he wanted to keep his options open with his butterfly-in-waiting and didn’t want to be seen with someone else. How typically conventional. I didn’t know the extent of their relationship, so I decided not to judge him.
“You look familiar,” Paul said more than once as we flirted.
“You must have seen me around the campus,” I replied coyly.
“I have to be honest. I don’t get girls calling me out of the blue without an introduction.”
“I’m Paula. You’re Paul. Introductions done. Do we need more?”
And for the first time in a while, I devoted myself to getting to know a guy through conversation. He had a typical background from a small town in Massachusetts. Dreams of becoming a journalist and no intent to return home. A familiar story of many young men and women. Like all people when meeting a new prospect, he probably hid parts of his life he thought would not make a good impression. But then I did the same in not telling him how sexually libertine I was in life.
We had eventually ended up at my flat. My roommate had her own room and knew better than to meddle. If anything, she was probably surprised that I had only one guy with me that evening.
While just a bit over the average at six inches and small change, Paul had a decent cock that got me off a couple of times before he blew his load. A cock must be pretty small or very thin for me not to cum anyway. Speaking of blowing, I used my oral superpower to bring him back to life so he could fuck me to a few more orgasms before he had his second.