I use a gym at a college that's near my house, so close that I walk instead of drive. The shortest route leads past several dorms and I often pass many students to and from my workout. The university lets people in the community use the gym for a fee. It costs a little more than the other gyms in town, but it's worth it.
I use the treadmills by the windows that look out at the sidewalk in front of the gym. On warm days in the fall and spring, college women walk past on their way to class or back to their dorms. The hotter the day, the less they wear. The view is inspirational.
The view inside the gym is even better. I don't know if there's a rule against only wearing a sports bra, or if it's just frowned upon, but that rarely happens. When some woman strides past in tights and a sports bra, however, it makes me wish I wore a jock under my nylon shorts. Most women wear t-shirts, or those tops that seem fashionable that are cut low under the arms, so you can see a sports bra underneath. Usually there's little in the way of jiggling, but lots of tight, form-fitting outfits that show off every curve of every breast.
One day recently, two women were on the treadmills to my right. I always have a magazine open in front of me. Turning pages provides an excuse to glance sideways at the women next to me. These two were physical studies in opposites. The one farthest away had a curvy figure -- big breasts that bounced as she jogged, and powerful thighs under her black tights. The one next to me wore a t-shirt and cloth shorts that were the college colors, maroon and black. Her shirt was oversized and loose, and did nothing to hide that she was flat-chested. Both looked like college freshmen or sophomores.(XXX Stories)
As I often do, I started fantasizing about sex with each of them, about striking up conversations and finding that they're aspiring writers who learn that I write for a living. They become engrossed in our discussions and invite me back to their dorm -- in my fantasy, they're on the same floor, friends a few doors away from each other. I imagine that while we talk, I look frankly at the woman with large breasts, letting my gaze drop to her nipples -- her areolae hard and defined in her sports bra. When I look back up at her eyes, she smiles. She's used to those kinds of stares. I'll call her Miss C Cup.
Her friend seems to feel left out by the attention I pay to Miss C Cup's breasts. She looks away and becomes perceptibly distant in our conversation. I focus on her every word to draw her back in. They say they need to go back because Miss C Cup has to get ready for a class, and they ask if I want to follow so we can keep talking. It's a hot fall day and all three of us are sweating as we walk in the late-morning sunshine.
Here I should mention that when I watch women in the gym, I wonder what it would be like to have sex with them before any of us shower. I imagine the heady smell of their sweat-drenched labia, or running my tongue under their arms.
We're so engrossed talking that we arrive at the dorm before we know it, and enter through a side door that opens with their ID cards. No need to draw attention at the front desk they say, smiling. There's no one in the hallway of the top floor when we arrive and all three of us go into Miss C Cup's room. It's one of those fancy dorms at an expensive private school, so there are four rooms sharing a bathroom that has three shower stalls. All the other suite mates are in class, she says. Her flat friend sprawls on a bed, cloth gym shorts poofing open slightly so I can see her white thong underneath. One of her thick labial lips is slightly exposed. She doesn't seem to care.
Without breaking strike in the conversation, Miss C Cup pulls off her sports bra and tights. The look on the face of her flat friend shows that she's used to her casual exhibitionism. Miss C Cup walks across the room to her laundry basket, hips and ass swaying, then walks back to us, breast bouncing. "She likes to show off her tits," the flat friend says, and they laugh as Miss C Cup offers her friend a nipple, which she takes in her mouth without missing a beat and sucks hungrily. "Jesus," I say, and they giggle at my expense. "Things have changed since you were young enough to be in college," Miss C Cup says. "Want some, old man? If you promise to give us writing tips and edit our papers, maybe we'll repay you."
Is there any answer to that question but yes? I tried not to take my eyes off her swaying breasts while I untied my shoes, pulled off my t-shirt, and let my nylon shorts fall to the floor. I was hard, my 7 1/2 inches curving upward and slightly to the side. "I like that," Miss C Cup said. "You can almost fuck at an angle, and I'd like to have an orgasm before I shower." She pulled her nipple from the mouth of her flat friend, who was still clothed, and sat on her desk chair, pulling my cock between her tits. That could have been enough for someone like me, in my late 40s, to just let loose and cum hard, shooting upward to her chin and face. But I wanted to be inside her -- inside both, actually. If I held off, there potentially was a lot of fucking ahead.
Her flat friend sat back against the wall, clasping her arms around her knees, and watched -- eyes never leaving her friend's curvy body. I got the feeling she had watched something like this before, and that I wasn't the first gym rat they brought back to their dorm. After letting me fuck her tits for a few minutes, Miss C Cup pushed me down on my knees and spread her legs, offering herself to me. I've never tasted anyone that sweaty. Her labia were musky and rich. Within moments I had a finger inside, then two, while I caressed her clit with my tongue. She brought my free hand to one breast while she fondled her other tit. I wanted to suck her nipple with the kind of hungry abandon I had seen on her friend's face, but clearly she wanted me to keep eating her. She was, it turned out, as horny as she had suggested, and in as much of a hurry to cum before showering. Her moans were subdued so no one would hear in the floor below. Her back arched as she thrust her crotch tight against my face as I tongue fucked her, finger curling inside. "Fuck me quick for a few minutes before I shower," she said. Who could say no? She turned around, bent down to grab the sides of the chair, and let me take her from behind. She was, of course, dripping wet from sweat and the drool from me eating her. Not surprisingly, we fucked for a couple of minutes and with a quick "that's it" she pulled away and off she went.
Her flat friend and I talked until she blew through the room after the shower. When Miss C Cup left for class, we left for the flat friend's room. She said she aspired to write fiction -- short stories and novels -- while Miss C Cup wanted to be a journalist visiting war zones and foreign countries. We spoke about the novelists we like, the short stories we turn to for inspiration. And then she said, "I suppose you're spent. Everyone she seduces is. By the time it's my turn, no one wants a turn." Not so, I said. You must have noticed that we didn't fuck enough for me to cum. I was back in my t-shirt and shorts for the trip from one suite to the next. She was still clothed, too. "You must have noticed that I'm not built like her," she said. "I have no boobs." I like that, I said. I prefer athletic women with taut, slender bodies. With that she tore off her t-shirt and quite unnecessary sports bra. Her breasts were all but nonexistent, her nipples and areolae smaller than mine. By contrast, Miss C Cup's expansive areolae would nearly entirely cover her friend's tiny breasts. How long have you two been lovers, I asked. "We don't think of ourselves that way," she said. "I'm fluid sexually -- not that I ever have sex, really -- and she just likes attention constantly. And I like her body because it's what I'd like mine to be if I ever grew boobs," she said with a laugh that was too sorrowful to not be true.
I like your breasts the way they are, I said, and she let her arms fall to her sides. Her body seemed suspended between being female and male -- her breasts there, but not there. Take off your shorts, I said. She stood and slipped off everything else, kicking them to a pile next to her desk. She stood with her legs slightly apart. She had dark blonde hair that fell just to her shoulders when she pulled off her hair tie. She trimmed below, instead of shaving or waxing, and a fine thin triangle grew above her lips, which were coated with such light fur that I wondered how she managed that effect. It was as if she took tiny scissors and clipped each hair. That exposed her lips, though, and they were a sight to behold. I had spied a thick outer lip peeking from behind her thong earlier. Protruding from those outer lips were wrinkled inner lips. Do you want me to run water over my face before eating you, to wash away what your friend left behind, I asked. "Do you want to wash?" she responded. We both smiled and knew neither of us wanted that, and we both knew in that moment that she had gone down on her friend, too. Does she eat you, too, I asked. "Of course not," she replied. "It's always all about her."
Turn around, I said. Stand next to your bed, legs apart, and bend down to rest your head on a pillow. For the next 20 minutes I ate her as if I had been starving for sex for months, rather than having fucked and eaten her friend minutes earlier. My tongue and fingers were everywhere. I want to talk dirty to you, I said, and I want you to use the words, too. I want to stick my fingers in your cunt and asshole, and I want you to beg me to do so, using those exact words. She did, and I did. I stuck my tongue in them, too. She came twice, three times, before I started fucking her in that position, but I kept holding off from cuming. Turning her around, I lifted her slender body and lowered her onto my cock. "I'm not a virgin," she gasped as my head penetrated her lips, "but not by much." She gasped something about only one guy, just before she left for college her freshman year. How old are you and your friend, I asked. "We're sophomores -- we turned 19 at the end of the summer," she said. Her arms were around my neck and my arms were hooked under her knees lifting and lowering her torso, her legs spread wide, her long inner lips flowering out like petals with every thrust. She leaned back and I darted in with my face to suck her tiny nipples, nibbling each one. Her eyes widened. "You like my flat tits?" I love your flat tits. I said, and with those words I came hard inside her, my moan almost a growl.
Her roommate was in a lab until mid-afternoon, so we showered, then stayed naked in her room, fucking again. This time she was on top, straddling me while I ran my hands over her flat chest. No one had ever paid attention to her tiny tits, and the attention gave her pleasure. Will this be our only time, or will we become lovers, I asked. "Lovers," she repeated. "I've never used that work. My friends hook up, it's never regular, but I like that idea." She paused and added, "I never imagined that when I had sex, something other than the guy back home I let fuck me before coming to the university, that the guy would be in his 40s." Are you disappointed, I asked. She smiled and slid down my body, taking my cock entirely in her mouth and turning so I had a full view of her exquisite chest and muscled abs.