I left him only to meet the guy in the Union Building again and fellate him on the back stairwell of the building. He stood up a few stairs from me and opened his zipper and pulled his cock out. It became hard almost immediately and I sucked expertly as his hands stroked my hair. He came without a sound and said he'd see me again.
The next day a stranger came up to me just before history class and told me he was a friend of the guy I had done on the stairs and he asked if I would do the same to him. So I skipped history – I figured fuck the Romans and spent the hour with my head nestled between his legs, doing everything I knew how to his cock and balls.
I was sick then, I realize that now, sick with an obsession to put the male organ in my mouth and to keep it there. I didn't even care any longer if the person didn't touch me or play with my tits or my pussy. I needed to suck cock and that was all. My language grew coarse and my very neat appearance gave way to that of a cheap slut. Greg said he was worried because I didn't look well. I thought that was kind of him.
Damn! I loved him so much! I needed him, I wanted him, I dreamed of being with him. But he stopped every time we came close to touching each other. I could feel him shudder and freeze up. I wish that I could have been honest at that time, wish that I could have openly talked with him. But I was afraid of losing him and he was afraid of something also, though at that time I didn't know what.
It finally got to a point where I couldn't take it any longer. One night in April – I remember it was raining – Greg and I sat in his car after we had gone to dinner at a nice restaurant. He told me he had just received a letter from Billy and was looking forward to us all getting together sometime soon. In other words, he was killing time and making conversation that meant nothing. I think also he was trying to say we were all mainly good friends to try to ease the tight bond between us.
I blew up. I screamed at him that he never touched me, that he never cared about me, that he was more interested in his damn school work and in Billy and all of us getting together than he was in me. I told him he didn't love me and he had been lying. Then, before he could say anything, I jumped out of the car and ran down the street in the rain. He told me later he sat there crying for a long time, but how could I have known that then? I really did believe he hated me. And I loved him so desperately.
I ran to the Union Building and the kid I had done on the steps was there. He looked at me strangely when I came in dripping wet. But he didn't ask questions, for he knew what I wanted.
Just as we were walking toward the dark stairwell, his friend appeared, the other guy I had done in place of history class. So the three of us went to the stairs. I sucked on both of them, taking turns, and brought the guy's friend to orgasm first. Then I worked on the other one till finally he too filled my mouth. They hitched up their pants and left me standing there in that cold, damp stairwell.
I walked outside. The rain had stopped and now the campus was crowded with people crossing from one building to another. I saw a young boy – he couldn't have been more than fourteen – coming up the walk to where I was standing.
Looking back now, I can hardly imagine myself doing such a thing – this kid was hardly old enough to be out after ten, much less to be sucked off behind some wet bushes – but I did do it. I said hello to him, took him by the hand placed it on my breast, looked into his eyes and walked him behind the bushes near the side of the building.
The soil was muddy and we slipped a few times as I pulled his pants down, but he leaned against the wall of the building and kept his balance. I don't know if he fully realized what had hit him. I think he was so stunned he just stood there and obeyed, without saying a word.
I pulled his pants to his knees and took the tip of his cock in my lips. It was soft and rather small, so unlike Billy's and the others I had seen and tasted, but there was a certain fascination in that itself. And the boy had very little pubic hair and his testicles were tight between his young legs. Here I was, almost raping a young boy, and loving every moment of it.
I felt mad, wild, uncontrolled. My only desire was to give him pleasure, to make his cock rise and come in my mouth. I sucked gently as he relaxed, and slowly his little penis burst into life, growing longer and wider within my lips. It was still rather small when it was hard which I loved because I could float it around in my mouth, kissing his pubic hair at the same time, even running my tongue down the top of his balls as it was in my mouth.
The boy started moaning. He said it was his first blow job, and I believed him. He came almost immediately, small hot gushes that were pouring into a person's mouth for the first time in his life, and he banged his head against the wall as he sighed.
We didn't talk. He stood there looking at me in a mixture of fascination and horror as I got up from the kneeling position I had been in. Mud was caked on my knees and legs and my skirt was ruined. I must have looked like I had escaped from a mental institution.
The boy looked at me for a moment then quickly lifted the front of my skirt and looked under. I was as shocked as he was when I first grabbed him and dragged him into the bushes. With his other hand, he pulled my panties down just enough to see my pussy. That's all he did just looked at it. Then he ran away. I never saw him again.
I wanted more. I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to go into any of the buildings looking as I did, but I had to find some cock somewhere. Then I thought of it. The art theatre on Central Avenue. I had seen guys going in there at every hour of the day to see sex films. I could walk around the back of the blocks, where no one would see me.
And I did so, cutting through a few alleys and two backyards. I walked to the end of the street next to the theatre and quickly dashed down the busy street to the ticket booth.
"One, please," I said to the man.
"Ladies are free with an escort," he replied sounding like a tape recording.
"I don't have an escort," I said, feeling like the whole world was staring at me standing in front of that sleazy theatre.
"Hell, it's stupid to pay, why don't you wait for some guy to come along…"
"One, please, I'll pay!" I said very loudly. The guy looked at me for a second and then waved me in, without having to pay.
I quickly ducked into the dark, smoke-filled theatre. Most of the men present were sitting near the back of the house, so I stayed there, taking a seat on the aisle in the last row.
In a few minutes I caught my breath and began to realize what was going on there in living color on the screen at the front of the theatre. A very good-looking woman with gigantic breasts was playing with a man's cock. The man was sitting on a bar stool and the woman was wearing her garter belt and nylons, but no underpants. Her pussy was covered with dark thick hair.
The man rubbed her head, pushing it toward his cock, but she apparently wasn't ready to do that yet. Instead, she spread his legs far apart and planted a kiss directly on his balls. Then she knelt down and started kissing his feet as the camera came in close to get a shot of her rounded buttocks.
The woman knelt there until she was kissing the boy's knees. Then she took her hands and spread her ass for the camera and her anal entrance was visible in colored detail on the screen.
The guy got off the stool and rolled on the floor till his head was just beneath her spread cheeks. Then she raised herself and let her ass drop to his waiting tongue, as he began to masturbate himself. She seemed to be sitting on his face! He kicked his legs, his mouth smothered by her ass, driving himself wild with his hand. Then he came and the camera caught it all in a close-up – cum running down the length of his cock like lava from a volcano. I was going wild. My hands were stuffed up my pussy.