Kinky Confessions

“I know, right?” she said when she could talk again. “We stayed at a hotel Monday night. You can imagine. Then yesterday afternoon and all day today.

Uh-huh.” She listened. “No. I’m a little sore, but that’s all.” She shot me a guilty look and said, “Yeah, I know. But I’ll tell you everything when you get home. Uh-huh. I swear. Thanks, me too. Okay. I love you too. Bye.”

She pushed the button to hang up, and I replaced the phone in its cradle.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “She wanted details. Duh. I told her I’d tell her later.”

“I heard. But… are you really sore?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to tell you, though.”

“You should’ve.”

“But it’s a good sore, like after a long day skiing.”

“This is different. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But what if I want you to?”

“Then we’ll compromise.”

She shook her head. “This is one of those times you just have to trust me.

Okay? I’m still getting used to you, your size. But it feels good. I swear. I wouldn’t keep doing it if it didn’t.”

“Are you sure? I’ve been trying to go easy, but… sometimes I get carried away.”

“I like it when you do.” She grinned. “When you ram your big cock into me. Oh, oh, please give it to me!”

“You’ve been watching too much porn.”

“I have not!” she squawked. “Well, not since last week.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course. Brooke’s parents have a bunch of movies. Some really good ones, too. Speaking of which, do you think we can get a VCR and TV here?

Brooke knows how to copy tapes. And I’d like to watch them with you.” She shifted gears and said, “In the meantime, you promised me another round.”

“Huh? What?”

“When you were talking to Wren. You said I wanted to have sex again.

Well, I do.”

“You’re going to kill me. You know that, right? You’re insatiable.”

“Mmm, I am. And this time I’ll try to do better about paying attention.”

She reached between us and began massaging my dick back to life. “I want to suck you anyway. I’ve missed having you in my mouth.”

“Yeah,” I said, more to myself than anything, “why did I ever think you were a goody-goody?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you came to your senses.”

“Me too.”

“Now, if you’ll roll over, I’ll suck you properly. Then I can ride you until you’re ready to come in my mouth.”

“Who could possibly refuse an offer like that?”

“Who indeed? Now, on your back, mister!”

Trip and Wren returned late the next evening. They were tired from their trip but happy to be home and happy to see us. Wren clearly wanted to talk to Christy and hear details about spring break, but Trip was ready for bed. I thought she’d argue or tell him to go up by himself, but she said goodnight to Christy and promised to talk to her later. Then she gave me a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek.

“About time,” she whispered. “Good job.”

“You are so single-minded,” I chuckled.

“I am when I want something. What’s wrong with that? Especially when it’s your happiness?”

“Fair enough,” I agreed. “Glad you’re home safe. We’ll see you in the morning.”

They said goodnight and headed upstairs.

“She drives me crazy sometimes,” Christy said once they’d gone, “but other times she’s the nicest, most considerate person I know.”

“Peel an onion,” I said. “There’s lots of layers.”

“You can say that again. But now you made me think of food.”

“Midnight snack?”

“You know me so well.”

“And then afterward, maybe a bedtime story?”

“Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“The Princess and the Penis?”

“Oh, boy.”

“Goldilocks and the Three Boners?”

“Here we go.”

“Snow White and the Seven Dicks?”

“Oh my gosh, stop!” She rolled her eyes. “And for the record, I only need one dick, yours.”

“Yeah, but seven times.”

“Of course. But feed me first. Then you can dick me as many times as you like.”

The next morning we left the house after breakfast and headed to campus.

We’d missed the upperclass-only registration, so we had to contend with everyone. We split into couples and headed off to our separate ordeals.

Christy and I finished a little after lunchtime, but Trip and Wren didn’t return to the house until much later. She was too frazzled to cook, so Christy and I made a pizza run.

Over dinner, Wren told us about her day. She’d tried to submit her application to graduate only to learn that she didn’t qualify. She needed three more credit-hours. And since she already had a full course load for the quarter, she had to get both her advisor’s and the dean’s permission to add another class. Any general elective would do, as long as it met for three hours a week. She’d spent the entire afternoon filling out forms and chasing down signatures.

“What did you end up with?” I asked.

“Don’t laugh,” she said. “Dance Appreciation.”

“Why would I laugh? It sounds like a no-brainer.”

“Yeah, well… my brain’s already gonna be mush, so I wanted something I don’t have to think about. I tried to take Swimming, but it’s only a two-hour

class. All the sports classes are. Two hours! That’s it!”

“The Big Orange Screw,” Trip said.

Wren huffed in disgust. “I’m sick of it. I don’t care anymore. I just wanna graduate.”

“Dance Appreciation will be fun,” Christy said. “When does it meet?”