Passing The Torch

It was the last week of the last year in college for many of us, and I was working the card pit...that place where you picked up your registration cards for the walk-through registration process in the days before personal computers.

By chance, I was working that part of the alphabet that included her last name when she walked up. "Hey, what are you doing this summer? Sticking around?" she said. " We should have dinner together this Sunday, do you have plans?" No, I didn't. Sundays were always at odds for students.

She told me the address, the top floor, last studio apartment on the main drag across from campus, next to the McDonald's. I asked if I could bring something, and she said "Sure, bring something to drink".  I assumed she meant pop, but it could go either way.

Sunday came and I arrived, dressed in a short sleeve plaid cotton shirt and dark pressed shorts and tennis shoes and socks. I walked up and realized that her building was sort of like the Hollywood Squares, and she was in the top right box. No one lived above her or to one side. I knocked and walked in... She was wearing a low cut loose top, dark shorts, sandals and a cooking apron.

She was serving fried chicken and potato salad, not two of my favorites, but I didn't want to be discourteous.  I had brought both a half gallon of milk and a couple of bottles of Coke. I had mixed and matched a few Diet Cokes in with the six pack that I brought.  She seemed vaguely surprised that I had brought milk and I thought again that maybe she had meant booze for mixed drinks. But she seemed pleased enough with the Diet Cokes.

We ate and talked of school and our plans. It was the end of my undergrad studies and I was staying on another year as a grad student. She had switched majors and was going to need a fifth year to finish up.  Her roommate was gone for the weekend, and wouldn't be back until sometime the next week, but she had the place to herself again.

There was a kitchen and another room that doubled as living room and bedroom. The bed seemed abnormally large. It had a small bedside stand with a short lamp on it.  A small tiled bathroom led off this and rounded out the studio apartment.  It must have been cheap, given the small area, but so close to campus, it was highly desirable for someone who spent most of their time on campus.  And it was within walking distance of McD's, a movie theater, a couple of bars, restaurants, bookstores, and anything you'd need. Except parking. There's never enough parking near campus.

We were just finishing up the pleasant meal, when a knock at the door made her look up. It was Doug, a guy that I knew had been hanging around with her during college. He walked in carrying a brown paper bag, but seemed to hesitate when he saw me sitting at the kitchen table. He was dressed in shorts and tee-shirt, and socks and sandles. They both said "Hi", and she introduced me, and the conversation stalled. She asked him what he wanted, and he said he wasn't sure if she had plans for the evening.  
"You didn't call," she said pointedly, "so I made other plans. We're just finishing our dinner."

I could feel an undercurrent of tension, but I wasn't going to leave unless asked.  I was as courteous to him as possible, inviting him to sit down and finish the chicken, since there were a few small drumsticks left. He said no, he wasn't really hungry, but wondered if we had had our desert.  No, we hadn't, but the berry pie was just about to be served. He thought he might have a few bites of that.  I could tell she was being civil to him, but she wasn't going out of her way to be pleasant.

He seemed tentative and not sure of what to do or say. I tried to break the ice and asked him about his classes, and what his plans were now after graduation. He was going back to the Detroit area shortly to look for a job and live with his parents until he could move out. He had just driven back up for the night. (It seemed like a gamble if she didn't know he was coming, and something told me he was expecting her to be alone.)

The conversation relaxed, and he eventually pulled a fifth of rum out of his sack and offered it for after dinner drinks.  "What the hell," she said, "it would be a shame to waste it," so she opened another two bottles of coke and poured rum and cokes for us to sip on.  The talk drifted back to the last year in school and the two began to reminisce about  funny things that had happened to them.  They explained the memories for me as both became relaxed with the drink. I just kept nursing my rum and coke and felt the warm burn in my stomach and the slight buzz that I was going to keep under control. I had driven here too.

After a while, he excused himself to use the restroom, and I asked her  quietly if I should leave, but she was insistent, "No, stick around, you don't have to go."  She took a big drink, "and you might learn something."  I wasn't sure how to take this, but I thought I might stay.

When he came back, she changed the subject to a massage book that they had read together, over a year earlier and practiced on each other.

Immediately, I could tell Doug was paying a little more attention and he confirmed  that he had learned a lot about it from her.  They threw out some terms and strokes and tried to one-up each other, coming up with something the other didn't recall.

 I said this sounded like quite a book. She said it was called "The Sensuous Massage" or something and waived that it was over there on the bookshelf somewhere next to the bed.  I got up and walked over to the shelf, scanning the titles. The small paperback was next to two larger books with unmistakable titles, "The Joy of Sex" and "Total ******: Your Guide to Massage".  I decided after flipping through the book not to comment about what else I had found.  But they were all stored together.

When I came back to the table, he was leaning forward and had his hand on her knee.  Both their drinks had been refreshed and she pulled at hers again, and he followed suit.  I said I was impressed but didn't know much about massage. "Well stick around and you might learn something," she said crypticly, and she stood up to go to the restroom herself.  I looked at Doug's face and he seemed curious and pleasantly surprised.  When she had shut the door, I asked him quickly if I should leave, but he said, "I don't think you have to, but let's see what she has in mind."   I would have bet earlier he would have done anything to get me out of there, but now he was following her lead.  He drained his glass, and I realized that they both had become far more tipsy than I was.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was wearing a pink silk dressing robe that had been hanging on the door. It was cinched to one side and she wasn't wearing sandals when she came out. She walked to edge of the bed and turned on the lamp, since it was dusk and the room was pretty dark. The orange and red silk scarf draped over the light made her robe look even more scarlet. In her hand was a bottle of Intensive Care skin lotion with a pump top. She set the bottle on the nightstand next to the bed, which I noted was a queen size and somewhat large for the room.

She walked out to the kitchen and Doug stood up. She raised her arms up around his head in a warm embrace and said, "Do you think you could show him a thing or two?"  She gave him a deep kiss and their bodies merged. I just looked at the two and was sure they had been lovers in the past.  I stood up to leave, but her hand shot out and grabbed my free hand. Then, without releasing him, she gave me one inviting deep kiss.  She turned and led us both out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. 

My heart was beating fast but I wasn't sure what was going to happen.  She released my hand and told me to sit anywhere, so I sat down in the small recliner chair next to the bed, and she walked Doug around to her nightstand. She sat down and her robe split open revealing a naked leg from toe up to the shadows that vanished somewhere under the loosening belt.  She slid backwards toward the head of the bed and announced that she was going to enjoy this.  The robe had pulled open revealing her cleavage, navel and the dark bush nestled between her legs.

Doug just looked at her for a moment, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, and squirted some lotion between his hands to warm.  He reached forward and smoothed it on her naked shoulders, and the robe fell away revealing the round 36D breasts that were perking up to his touch.  "Ooohh, that's too cold," she complained, and he held his hands on them as he looked deep into her eyes. He started to pinch the nipples but she batted at his hands, saying "too fast".  He seemed to have forgotten about me as he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, and she kissed him back.  When they parted, she kept her eyes closed and he began caressing her entire body.  I didn't know the strokes, but he was confident and quick, rubbing lotion down every curve, in every crevice and from her neck to toe.

I couldn't see if he was aroused, but I know I was, my **** straining in my shorts as I sipped my drink and watched.  Doug leaned forward and began to suck the left nipple, as his right hand slipped down between her thighs.  "I've still got another one here for you," she said as she looked over and raised a hand out to me.  I set my drink down and knelt on the bed next to her, kissing her once on the lips, and then taking the large firm nip between my lips.  I teased it with my tongue, and she said, "Oh that's nice" but I don't know if she was telling him or me to continue.  I continued to suck and lick the nip, and Doug was doing the same, except he was also rubbing her pubic hair and exploring down to her vulva with his free hand.  "That's it, more teeth," she said, and I gently fastened my teeth onto the nipple and began to pull back, stretching it slightly. "Oh yeah," she moaned as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and said, "I want you, now."  Doug pulled back and raised his arms, starting by pulling his t-shirt over his head. 

"Honey, would you get that jar of Vaseline out of the medicine cabinet," she said to me, and I wondered how I had rated a "honey do" so quickly. I walked into the bathroom and found the half-used jar on the top shelf.  By the time I had returned and put it on the bed within her reach, Doug was practically nude.

Doug had slipped out of his shirt and in one fluid motion, was out of his shorts, laying along side her and kissing her deeply.  I moved back to give him room and he was laying atop her without any break in the action.  As I sat back in the chair I could see him position his hips between her legs and I got a glimpse of a thick, stout **** with a pronounced head jutting out of a nest of dark pubic hair.  In fact his whole chest seemed to be covered with the same  hair, and I suspect his beard would be the same color if he hadn't shaved.

She spread her legs and wrapped them around him, locking them around his hips as he began a slow rocking motion.  She said to wait a moment, and he stopped and kissed her ear, her neck, bosom and lips again, as she dipped one finger into the jelly and then snaked her hand down between them toward her crotch.  I couldn't see where she put this lube, but I saw him lift slightly to allow her access.  She withdrew her hand and wrapped him in her arms with a murmured "much better" and then they went to town.

I'm not sure how long I sat there watching, but the pair of bodies in the dim reddish-orange light continued rocking and bucking slowly in rhythm for longer than I could imagine they would without a change.  Finally, she said, "Harder, **** me harder" and he started bucking more forcefully. Her legs ground at him, and I realized that they were experienced and practiced lovers...the perfect size for each other and familiar with each other's desires. It hit me: They were a couple.  And I was privileged to watch their coupling.  I swallowed hard and sipped my drink.

Doug started to groan with each thrust, and his rocking slowed slightly, as if he was trying to push further and deeper into her.  "Not yet," she gasped, "I want more. **** me more!"  He slowed and she slipped her hand down between the two of them again, doing something to her crotch. She started to gasp deeply with each thrust, and he sped up slightly, pounding her with his hips in a straight in-and-out  and then he started groaning loudly with each hard thrust. He was slowing up and clearly coming as she continued to clutch at him with her legs and one arm. The other was furiously wiggling between then, as she whimpered, "Ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh...."

Doug slowed to a stop, and heaved a deep sigh.  "Oh, I can't breathe," she complained, "roll off me!"  He obediently complied, rolling to his left onto the bed next to her, and she looked over at me and commanded, "Come here, kid, you're up next!"

For a moment, I froze cause it sounded like a coach ordering a player into the field of play.  And then I had my shirt off and my shorts off.  My erection was stiff and stuck out awkwardly, as I crawled between her legs and with one hand felt the wet slimy crevice where her ***** waited, oozing.  She wrapped her arms around my neck, but I held myself up off her stiff-armed, and let my **** slide into her deeply.

I knew that I was longer and thinner than Doug had been, and I couldn't help but feel there was no way for me to compare with his rhythm, but I had heard her whimper and reach for her **** when he was banging her, so I immediately realized that she needed her **** scrubbed. I slid forward and made my pubes grind against hers, and she immediately cried, "That's it. Yes. YES!".

Doug was laying next to her, pinned, as he had one arm trapped under her neck and couldn't get away. He had a ringside seat whether he wanted it or not. His face was just inches away from hers as he watched her flushed face. I started thrusting purposefully forward, riding high, and ground my pubic bone against her *****, and she started to whimper.  I felt her wet, hot, and slippery ***** pulsing with each thrust forward, and as her breath came in gasps, she started to grimace and cry, "Yes, Yes, YES'.  Her ***** fluttered and clutched at my ****, and with a few more thrusts, I was coming too.

I mixed my seed with his in her *****, and then felt drained. I knew I didn't want to collapse on her, but wanted to do the gentlemanly thing and be graceful as I withdrew.  I felt her ***** flutter another time or two, and as I lowered my head, I licked her nipple, and she convulsed again. Her hands flew to her breasts, "No more," she pleaded.
"Are you sure," I asked, only half serious.  I don't know what I would have done had she asked to go again.

"Oh yes, that's enough for me," she assured me, and gave me a brief deep kiss that seemed to linger longer than was needed.
I rolled off to my right, and realized I could feel Doug's hand still sticking under her neck, and that she hadn't said anything to him, or thanked him, or anything. He was still staring at her.

"Let me up," she said, "I need to clean up."  And she sat up and crawled over me, picking up her robe and walking quickly into the bathroom, shutting the door.  I heard the shower start, but wasn't sure if I heard a sob too.

Doug was pulling on his clothes, so I started too.  I felt I should say something to him, he was being so quiet.  "That was really something," I started, and he agreed, "It was."

"Are you certain she's OK with this?" I asked.  "Are YOU OK?"

"Oh yeah, we have an agreement," he explained.

We moved into the kitchen, away from the bathroom door as we heard the shower run.
"What do you mean," I asked?

"It's just sex," he said.  "We always knew that it was just sex between us. Nothing else." He sounded sad.

"What do you mean?  Did you have a regular arrangement or something," I said stupidly.

He looked up at me, "Yes, we got together every Sunday night.  Sometimes more often, but almost every one, every Sunday. It was something we could count on."

"How many years," I asked softly?  And when he didn't answer, I added, "Are you sure that it wasn't more?"

He didn't answer, but finished tucking his shirt inside his waistline, but when he looked up at me, his eyes were glistening. They were brimming with tears.

"No, just sex," he said, and he pushed open the door and walked out. I was sure he was lying.

We never saw him again.  The torch had been passed.
She and I had sex and made love once a week for the final year of college that we were together.
studfinder studfinder
56-60, M
3 Responses Aug 17, 2012

couldn't read t all...too dizzy @_@

Try again...it'll be worth it...

Great story. What a great memory. Bet you've gotten lots of use out of that one since!

That is hot, love it. Read my story on "My only *********". Similar theme, enjoy!!
My wife loved the part about mixing your seed with his inside her.