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NOTE: All of the names in this story have been changed to protect everyone who participated. If you were there and read this story, you will certainly recognize yourself, even under a pseudonym. If you were not there, I hope you wish you were! I partially described part of what follows in “Hiding the Cum,” but this is the complete story.
Back in the dark ages when I was in college, fraternities, sororities, and dormitories were required to have housemothers – older women, often widows, who were employed to reside in apartments in the living unit. Basically they were supposed to be chaperones and prevent “bad” things from happening, particularly to “their girls,” although they also sometimes planned meals and served as hostesses for formal gatherings. Some housemothers lived year-round in their apartments. Fortunately our housemother had her own house in another city, and she only lived with us when she was required to do so by university regulations.
I pledged a fraternity in August, just before beginning my freshman year at the university. I was interested in the friendships the fraternity provided, and I knew that joining a fraternity would provide me with an active social life. Because I was an inexperienced, eighteen-year-old virgin, I also hoped the fraternity would help me to finally have a sex life. In this it succeeded beyond my wildest expectations!
My first time was at one of our official social events. However it was my attendance at organized social drinking activities, not formal dances, that began my lifelong instruction into learning how to make love to women. That portion of my life remains fresh and vivid in my memories.
My fraternity provided its actives, pledges, and a handful of carefully-selected female guests with truly outstanding outdoor drinking parties, called beer busts. There were several secrets to their success, the most important of which was the location where they were held. Several years before I pledged, somebody in the fraternity had befriended Jake Perkins.
Jake was at least sixty years old. He had a huge, sprawling ranch about twelve miles from town. It took more than twenty minutes to drive there from our fraternity house. Jake allowed our fraternity – and nobody else insofar as we could determine – to call ahead and “schedule” our beer busts on his land. He would arrange to leave a remote gate in his fence open, and we would enter his ranch there, then follow a dirt trail to a grove of trees where we would park. It was a hike of about a quarter of a mile to the bottom of an old riverbed where we partied.
We always built a large fire and set our kegs of beer and coolers full of soft drinks on a dry, flat sandbar about twenty yards wide and at least a hundred yards long. The riverbed was at least ten feet below ground level at this point, and the trees along its edges gave us nearly complete privacy. Jake’s house was several miles away, and it was the closest occupied dwelling. No matter how loudly we screamed, yelled, or sang, the sound couldn’t reach anyone else’s ears. Well, they did reach Jake’s because he usually drove up in his truck and joined us for a few beers. He also stood just beyond the light of the fire and watched the sexier side of our parties. I even saw him beat off a couple of times. But I digress. Back to the beer busts.
Before it got dark, several of the brothers would drive to the site in a couple of vehicles. Using a four-wheel drive jeep, they would haul the heavy kegs and soft drinks to the sandbar. Jake always helped by gathering a huge pile of fallen tree limbs for us, and these he left for near where we had our fires. Those who arrived early got everything set up, and then they climbed out of the riverbed and enjoyed a fantastic sunset as they drank a beer or two. Everyone else, including Jake, arrived about an hour later, just after it was really getting dark.
Long before the concept of “designated drivers,” our fraternity utilized them. There were usually between a quarter and a third of our members who didn’t drink, but they enjoyed attending the beer busts for the comradery, the singing, and, of course, the company of the women. Unknown to me when I pledged, they also enjoyed the uninhibited public sex.
At each beer bust we had an area just beyond the reach of the fire which was officially designated the “Pussy Pisser.” Here the women could urinate in relative privacy. The men just wandered off in the opposite direction, unzipped, and let fly. A slit trench, toilet paper, and shovel were also prepared before it got dark. Appropriately called the “Turd Trench,” it was available to both sexes, although it usually went unused.
This much I learned before I actually attended a beer bust. Later I learned much more from Big Tom, the active who was my Pledge Father. There were two men named “Tom” in the house, but “Big Tom,” also called “B.T.,” was over six-feet four- inches tall – hence his nickname. The other was called “Little Tom” or canlı bahis şirketleri “L.T.” Although B.T. was reasonably well-endowed, his nickname did not refer to his genitals. Actually his and mine were about the same size – a fact that was useful later when we shared the same woman.
B.T. explained to me that our fraternity beer busts were organized into three stages. During Stage One, the actives, pledges, and women whom several actives were “seriously” dating were present. (“Serious” sometimes meant “willing to put out,” but most of the “serious” women were engaged – or nearly so – to one of the brothers.) We drank beer and soft drinks, sang fraternity and folk songs, but kept everything reasonably tasteful and respectable. A few guys usually got drunk, but that was tolerated as long as they remained happy and funny. Whenever somebody either turned sullen or lost control, one of the drivers would take him back to the fraternity house to sleep it off.
I attended my first beer bust in mid-September, about three weeks after I pledged. B.T. informed me that I would not be able to stay for the entire event, but that once I was initiated I could stay later and enjoy Stage Two – and eventually Stage Three. I was surprised by the number of people standing around the fire. There were more than sixty men and about a third that many women. As people began to drink beer, there was a lot of kissing and some groping, but everyone remained fully dressed. One woman got drunk, and rather than walk to the Pussy Pisser, she pulled her shorts and panties off, squatted, and pissed into the sand in full view of everyone. I had never seen a woman urinate, and I couldn’t help staring. Heck, I was a virgin, and I had never even seen a woman’s furry crotch before!
As I quickly found out, Stage Two would usually begin around 10:00 p.m. Pledges had to leave, as did anyone escorting women who were attending one of our beer busts for the first time. People “earned” the right to stay for Stage Two by attending at least one prior Stage One. The reason, B.T. informed me, was both simple and obvious: We didn’t want to shock any poor, sensitive souls by what we did in Stages Two and Three. So that first time I was among about thirty men and a dozen women who left the party, wondering aloud exactly what was going to happen that we weren’t supposed to see. Our ignorant guesses didn’t come close to the truth.
I received a hint later that same night about 3:30 a.m. when I left the sleeping dorm to take a leak. The “Woman on the Floor” flag was hanging from the ceiling, warning us that we should not go wandering around naked – as we were inclined to do, particularly in the middle of the night. It was usually hung when our families visited or when we had in-house parties. These were the Dark Ages of several decades ago. According to university regulations there were not supposed to be any women in the house unless our housemother was present. Mrs. Farleigh was gone until Saturday evening, and so I wondered what was going on. I was just a pledge, and I still had a lot to learn!
I figured out the reason for the hanging flag as I passed one of the rooms. I heard a rhythmic, wet, slapping sound. I stopped in front of the door and listened as the pace got faster and faster. Within a couple of minutes I heard a woman’s voice cry out, “EE! EE! EE! EE! EEUUH!” Then a man let out a couple of loud groans, and immediately the women yelled, “GOD! OH! YESSS! AAAAAH!” Sexually naive as I was, I recognized the sounds of a man and a woman fucking. The sounds made me hard, and even with a full bladder it took a long time to switch my penis from ejaculation-mode to urination-mode as I stood over a urinal. I finally drained my bladder and returned to the sleeping dorm. I stopped and listened for more sex sounds, but the room was completely silent.
My second hint came less than four hours later when I got up early to study. I left the sleeping dorm, picked up my bathroom gear from my room and headed for the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around my waist. I thought everybody else was sleeping since the hall was deserted and the entire house was dead quiet.
Our bathroom on the second floor was an open room, with two toilets and three urinals along one wall, and with sinks along the other. There were no dividers to provide privacy. As I stumbled in, I saw a woman sitting on one of the toilets. All she was wearing was a man’s shirt. She had a strange, puffy look about her face. I could see the outline of her breasts and the dark, round shape of her areolae through the thin cloth. She smiled at me as a turd splashed into the toilet beneath her.
“Hi! I’m Kelly!” She said. “I really had to go!”
I froze in my tracks and stared at her. I must have looked really stupid. Intellectually I knew that women used toilets, but somehow I had never imagined what it would look like to see a woman actually taking a shit. Perhaps it would have been less of a shock if I’d had canlı kaçak iddaa a sister. But I stood there staring as another turd hit the water, accompanied by a loud fart. Kelly blushed and grinned at me.
“I. . . I . . . I’m Don.” I managed to blurt out.
I recognized her, even without her makeup. She had been one of the women at the beer bust, and she had been allowed to remain after I had left. Before I could say anything else, the bathroom door opened behind me, and another woman walked in. She was also wearing nothing but a man’s shirt, and she had the same look on her face that Kelly had. Her legs, which I could see almost to her crotch, were terrific. Her breasts bounced under the shirt, and her nipples made little tents in the fabric.
I finally looked at her face. I recognized her: Rachel. She had been B.T.’s date the night before. She pulled up the shirt and sat down on the other toilet. I caught a brief flash of her pubic hair. She began to urinate very loudly. “Hi, Don! Hi, Kelly!” She said. She turned to the woman on the toilet next to her. “You just barely beat me out to be The Holder! Was it as great as it looked?”
Kelly glanced at me, then turned back to the woman sitting next to her. “It’s incredible, Rachel! You know I set a new HFR! Scott brought me back here after doing seven after him, and . . .” What the heck was the “HFR” I wondered?
Rachel glanced at me and she suddenly began to giggle. Kelly turned toward me, and she giggled, too. I looked down, and my penis was tenting my towel. I felt my face burning, and I turned and took my stuff next door to the shower room. I decided I could shave later. As I hung my towel on a hook, I heard both toilets flush.
Fortunately the shower was empty, and I turned on one of the six shower heads and then began to stroke my penis. I was incredibly hard, and I knew it wouldn’t take long to relieve my tension. Then I heard someone else coming into the towel room adjacent to the shower room, and I stopped jerking off. A few seconds later both Kelly and Rachel joined me in the shower. I had never seen a naked woman before, and suddenly there were two of them in front of me. Both had perky, bouncing breasts and trimmed triangles of curly, dark pubic hair. They were laughing and giggling as they soaped themselves, but I couldn’t hear much of anything. As I stared at them I could feel my penis getting harder and harder. It felt as if it would burst. There was a loud hammering sound in my ears. My balls began to throb as I stared at their bodies. I could feel my heart pounding in my erection and my penis began to feel like it was burning. My balls started throbbing painfully.
Rachel suddenly reached out and took hold of my penis, and said something to Kelly about how hard it was. Taking a shower with a naked woman had been one of my most frequent erotic fantasies, and the inevitable happened. I immediately ejaculated directly onto Rachel’s arm. She laughed, and pointed my penis up. She leaned forward and I shot several bursts of cum into the air, most of them landing on her breasts. I groaned with each one, and just when I thought I was done, Rachel leaned down and gave my balls a little pull with her other hand, and a final, huge shot of cum blasted out of my penis, hitting Rachel on the chin, just below her mouth.
Rachel laughed and released my rapidly deflating penis, and she quickly rinsed my cum from her body. I turned away from the women and cleaned myself off. Both women were giggling and laughing again. Every time I looked at them they were staring at me. They both had huge grins on their faces.
I finished as fast as I could, and as I squeezed past the women to get out of the shower, Rachel grabbed me and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re a bit quick on the draw, stud, but you sure blast it hard! And so much!” Her wet breasts rubbed against my arm as I slipped past her. I could feel her nipples burning against my arm for several minutes after I got dressed.
I was fully dressed and standing in the hall when the women left the shower. Each was wrapped in a towel. Rachel blew me a kiss and headed for B.T.’s room at the other end of the hall. Kelly bounced past me and entered the room where I had heard the mating sounds during the early morning hours. She turned, pulled her towel off, and wiggled her breasts at me as she stood naked in the doorway! She was grinning as the door closed. I had no idea that there were women who were so completely uninhibited! Did this happen every weekend in the fraternity? If so, my sexual education was certainly going to be speedy! When I turned to move, I realized I was completely erect again.
I went down to the kitchen and got some cereal. The house began to wake up, and my pledge brothers and I did our usual Saturday morning housecleaning. Although I never saw her, I found out that another woman had also spent the night. Both Rachel and Kelly ate lunch with the men in our dining room, and I kept glancing at them, canlı kaçak bahis remembering how they had looked without their clothes. They giggled and blushed when they caught me staring at them.
Shortly after the women left, B.T. led me into his room. He laughed as I sniffed. “Cunt juice! Pussy milk! Cream of twat! Pecker Polish! Smells terrific, doesn’t it? Don’t worry. You’ll get some of your own soon enough!”
“I thought we could get social probation if we got caught with women in the house.” I naively remarked as I tried to change the subject.
“Yeah, we could. But last night Mrs. Farleigh was away, so she couldn’t find out and turn us in. And the campus gestapo only checks the fraternities on Saturday nights. We decided a long time ago that there’s not much risk in having women sleep over on a Friday when our housemother is away. That’s one reason why we schedule beer busts on Fridays.” B.T. replied.
B.T. said that Rachel had told him about seeing me in the bathroom, and that he had sent her down to shower with me. Bringing Kelly along had been her idea. “They both thought it would be fun, you being a virgin and all. Did Rachel really jerk you off?”
I blushed and nodded, and B.T. laughed. “You impressed her! She came back in here and rode me until I almost wore out! She said you must have shot out a cup of cum!” For some reason that comment amused him, and he laughed. The reason this was funny wouldn’t become clear to me for several months.
I felt myself getting hard again as I tried to imagine what B.T. was describing. I could picture a naked Rachel sitting astride me with her breasts bouncing, my penis in her pussy, as she made those sounds that I’d heard Kelly making. As soon as I left B.T.’s room, I went to my own room, locked the door, and beat off into a mound of toilet paper.
About a month later I attended my second beer bust. Since I was still a pledge, again I had to leave around 10:00. In the meantime B.T. had told me what happened in a Stage Two, and it really wasn’t all that terrible, although the fraternity felt it wasn’t appropriate for the uninitiated. That night there was only one woman – neither one Kelly nor Rachel – who spent the night in our house. According to B.T., the weather had been too cold to go to Stage Three, and that was the main reason there weren’t more women sleeping over. He wasn’t allowed to tell me what happened at a Stage Three beer bust, but he certainly had my imagination working overtime!
I didn’t actually lose my virginity at a beer bust. The fraternity had a Halloween party, and since I was a pledge without a date, I was required to guard the upstairs bathroom in case one of the many women at the party found the one-hole official ladies room on the first floor occupied. My “duties” consisted of making certain that the bathroom was empty, allowing one or more women inside, then “guarding” the door to give them privacy. Their piss certainly smelled different from what the guys did!
Down near the end of the hall there was something going on. Men would go in, one at a time, then come out a few minutes later. There were usually three men in the room at the same time, with one or two more waiting in the hall. Because of the loud music coming from the party, I couldn’t hear what they were doing. But the guys waiting in the hall were laughing and joking with each man who came out.
After about an hour of guarding the bathroom, B.T. took pity on me. He took over my spot in front of the bathroom and sent me down to the room at the end of the hall. I didn’t have to wait. I walked in, closed the door, and was almost overwhelmed by a familiar smell. Pussy juice! Pecker Polish!
A mattress had been placed on the floor. Atop it was a naked blonde woman, lying on her back. One of my pledge brothers, who was also naked, was between her legs with his hips going up and down. “Fuck me hard, Baby! Oh yeah, fuck me! Oh! Oh!” She cried. My pledge brother groaned and trembled, obviously having just ejaculated. There was a naked active standing ready.
“Get undressed!” He ordered as he climbed on top of her. “As soon as I’m done, you’re next!” He was wearing a condom, but I scarcely noticed. My attention was on the naked women lying spread-eagled on the floor.
I quickly undressed, tossing my clothes onto a nearby chair. My pledge brother dressed and left. Another man quickly entered the room and stripped off his clothes. The man ahead of me finished, and I moved closer so that I could finally lose my virginity. The blonde woman stopped me. “You gotta put on a rubber!” She muttered, and she pointed to a nearby box of condoms. The blonde helped me put the prophylactic on my penis. The man ahead of me left, and immediately the door opened and another man came in. “Hurry up, stupid!” The blonde said. “I’m almost ready to cum!”
I leaned down and the blonde grabbed my plastic-wrapped prick and put it at the entrance to her vagina. I was rock-hard as I stared at her crotch. Her womanhood was an incredibly wet slit of maroon folds of skin surrounded by blonde pubic hair. I pushed forward and felt her vagina clasp my penis as I entered her. The feeling was beyond pleasurable, beyond anything I had ever imagined.
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