Written by: Anonymous
Synopsis: On her first night in college, alone in her room, a young woman builds her fantasies about the sexual experiences she hopes the real world has to offer.
The story:
I had high hopes when I started college. The guys at school were nice and everything, and they did their best, but they were just… young. In my experience – and my friends agreed – when you agreed to have sex with a guy he’d latch onto your tits like a calf, maybe fumble for your clit if you were lucky and then spend a minute or two pumping in and out of you until he blew his load.
But college… that was different. Yes, some of the guys were only as old as me, but there were plenty of mature students. Oh, but the teachers… well, one teacher. I met him on my first day. John. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he had a beautiful smile, and a way of looking at me that made my stomach turn to liquid. Well, I imagined it was just for me, but… maybe not.
My first night there was hot – and I do mean in terms in temperature. It was early September, so I kept the window open and went to bed naked. It had been a long day, and I thought I was tired, but a different kind of heat was keeping me awake: the feelings that John had excited in me. I began running my fingertips over my body, thinking of John’s eyes and smile, and my skin began to tingle with excitement. I squeezed my thighs together and enjoyed the pressure on my clit, but I wasn’t sure about taking it further. There were people in the rooms next to mine – what if they heard me?
Eventually I was able to fall into a light sleep. Of course John appeared in my dreams, naked as I recall, to tell me that he wanted me. I don’t remember the dreams very clearly, but they must have been good because I woke up with my thighs drenched. My juices were seeping into the sheet beneath me. Instinctively I reached down and lightly touched my soft, swollen lips with my fingers. Hot liquid ran down towards my knuckles, and I sighed with frustration. I was going to have to deal with this.
It was the sound of a slamming door that had woken me. As I began to roll a thumb over my left nipple, I heard giggling sounds coming from the next room. These quickly turned to moans – the unmistakable sound of sexual pleasure. I couldn’t believe it. Apparently, then, being heard was not a worry here. But still, there were two people in there. I don’t know whether it’s just me, but I’d much rather be caught having sex with someone than be caught masturbating.
I knew the girl in the next room. It was Charlie. She had told me that evening that she was going out with her boyfriend. Knowing what they were doing now excited the voyeur in me, and I listened. Charlie was moaning and sighing while her man murmured gently in her ear. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I started to hear John’s voice. He seemed to say, “Make love to me.”
I looked down at myself. My fingers had moved down to my pussy and I was slowly caressing my lips. No longer caring about being overheard, I began stroking a nipple with my left hand, and eased my lips apart with the fingers of my right. I teased myself for a while, moving my thumb over my nipple and sending small waves of pleasure down to my pussy. I stroked my inner and outer lips until I couldn’t hold back any