Chapter 8

In early February I got a note from Mary. I had kept in intermittent contact with her and Chelsea, and was intrigued at what she was saying by letter that she could have said by phone.

What are you doing for Valentine's Day? Can you come to Columbus? We're celebrating the day by having a party, and Tom and I would take you as our guest.

Mary

Valentine's Day was on a Saturday. The dorm had something scheduled, but I hadn't signed up for it yet. I called Mary, and then went to the library and began making travel arrangements.

I wasn't what you would call rich. I had a part-time job working at a Starbucks, I'd hired in the day after I'd moved into the dorm, and I was due some time off. The manager was agreeable, and I did some juggling to get my ticket paid for. I knew I wouldn't have a hotel expense, so that just left getting to and from the airport.

I practically counted down the hours before I could leave. I'd take an early morning flight out of Starkville, change planes in Birmingham, land briefly in Cincinnati, and finally get to Columbus about 11:15, four hours after I'd left. Coming back was a little easier: Columbus to Memphis to Starkville on the Sunday evening flight. I was going to be tired by the time I got back to the dorm, but it would be a 'satisfied' tired.

Of course one of my profs gave us an assignment for that weekend. I took it with me on the plane, and got about half of it done. But as we left Cincy, I was too keyed up to concentrate; I was anticipating the night.

Mary met me at baggage claim—she wasn't surprised that I only had my carry-on—and took me to her house. It was a modest rambler painted beige with white trim, with a nice lawn in a quiet suburb. Tom was in a study when we entered, and waved a hello.

"We're not leaving there for a few hours," she said. "How've you been? Can I get you anything?"

"Tolerably well. Um, you know that Hank and I have been seeing each other." I wanted to get that established right up front.

"Robin said something about that the last time I talked to her. She said you meet in Birmingham."

"He goes there on business, and it's a short drive for me." I grinned. "It forced me to get a car, something my Dad was all too pleased to do. His little girl still needed him."

"Fathers need to do that from time to time," she said.

We spent the next couple of hours having a nice old-fashioned visit. I minded my manners. I was till on trial, and I knew it.

After a late lunch we loaded up in the car. My pulse was racing. In a little bit I was going to have sex with men I'd never met before. We'd do it right in front of their wives, and it would be all right. A year ago I would have been shocked. Now I could feel my heart thudding, and I knew I was getting wet. My nipples were already tight, and the seam in my bra was rubbing them in a way that certainly distracted me.

We stopped at a strip mall to buy some food. Mary had told me there would be a buffet, and that everyone would contribute. There wouldn't be any wine or alcohol; these people liked their stimulation, and booze detracted from it.

Then it was off to the party! I thought it might be like what happened on St. Thomas, but we'd been outside, and that wasn't going to happen here. The sky was gray and the clouds were spitting out clusters of snowflakes. The road had been sanded and cleared, so snow tires were sufficient. We didn't get that much snow in Starkville, so this was a new experience for me.

"Just promise not to run outside to make snow angels," Tom said. "You'll lose a lot of body heat in a hurry."

"Warming up is fun," Mary said. "You can usually get someone to help you do that. But Tom's right. You have to be careful with the weather."

The place we went was down a street with a Park & Ride across the street. "People get curious when they see a lot of cars outside of a house, and they're still there the next day," Tom said. "That isn't the case here."

They were hiding right out in the open. That was something I'd have to learn.

The house itself looked expensive. I couldn't really guess how big it was, but it was set well back from the street. It had a three-car garage, with what looked like a room over it (what they call a Bonus Room). There were a lot of people dressed in average clothes, and I was the youngest one there. The buffet was set in the front room, not too far from the fire in the fireplace.

Mary gave me a tour. "Four bedrooms upstairs," she said. "The main floor has a kitchen, living room, dining room, rec room, media room, and four fireplaces. There's a bathroom on each floor, and a covered pool in back. Downstairs there's the bondage room, and—"

"Bondage?"

She smiled. "You get tied up and have sex. You're helpless, but in some way it's very exciting. It's not for everyone," she added when she saw my face. "You might want to try it sometime, but not this weekend. And you definitely don't want to try the discipline."

I'd read that in a magazine. Whips. Ugh. Still, some people liked it. I wasn't going to judge them. Instead I followed Mary back upstairs. People were standing around, talking, and they all still had their clothes on.

"There are some friends here from where our hosts work," Mary told me quietly. She handed me a cup of chilled Hawaiian Punch. "Things will start when they leave, which should be in a few minutes."

Ah. More protective coloration. And shortly after they left the host and hostess, Jean and Dominic, brought out blankets and pillows. They went down on the floor, and that was the signal. The drapes were pulled, and clothes began to come off all over the room. In a few minutes we had 50 naked people, casual conversation got a lot more pointed, innuendo was replaced with outright comments, and soon the first couples were horizontal.

I had a great time. I got to try out the bearskin rug next to the fireplace, and learned that it was possible to do it on a couch and not lie on it. See, you put a pillow behind your back and scoot forward to the edge. If it's a low couch, he can be on his knees. If it's a normal one, he has to crouch a little. Of course you can try it while lying down. I did it both ways, and both worked just great.

A lot of guys liked the way I greeted them. I'd lift their manhood and suck their balls. One guy had shaved his, and that was a bit strange. It usually didn't take long to go from my licking them there to their returning the favor. And then we'd swap ends.

Eventually people sort of collapsed where they were when it was late. I'd slept with Hank, actually slept, not the euphemism. I can truthfully say that I slept with three naked men, and in the middle of the night one of them accompanied me to the bathroom.

That was just about the only time I felt uneasy. Here was a man watching me pee. But he'd had his tongue right there only a little while before. I shouldn't have minded, but I did. I got to watch him, though. You know that's the way guys do it, but like most girls there was sort of a 'just how do they do it?' question in the back of my mind. But he satisfied my curiosity. And after a quick shower we spent a few minutes getting tired all over again.

In the morning there was a lot of eating and horseplay. Guys were still feeling the effects of the night before—well, so was I, I was a little sore down there—and so things lasted longer. And during that morning that wasn't long enough, I learned a few things.

First, that our hostess was a screamer. She gave a high-pitched cry with every thrust. The walls had to be heavily sound-proofed.

Second, Jasmine, a woman Mary called a close friend, liked to be paddled. Her bottom was bright red, and she seemed disappointed if guys didn't do it while doing it.

Third, I still wasn't wild about the taste of come, but I could scoop it up and lick my fingers clean. I just didn't like the idea of guys coming in my mouth. I had this sneaking suspicion that they'd lose control and pee. Several guys came on my breasts or tummy, and I licked it up. And yes, you can taste the difference between different guys.

Fourth, Tom proved to me that a girl can climax just from breast stimulation. It was a rounder one, and definitely different. I didn't know it was possible; oh, I'd read about it in a magazine, but half of what they tell you in those articles don't make much sense. And then he used his marvelous length to give me a regular one just so I'd have something to compare it to.

And fifth, I had a new definition of a gentleman. He took his weight on his hands. Of course sometimes I liked being squashed a little because then I got a full-body contact.

It was only with the greatest reluctance that I showered—with someone, I might add—dressed, I had help with that, and let Tom and Mary take me to the airport. I was absolutely beat. I stared at my homework assignment with sort of a spaced out look, and before I knew it I was back in my dorm room.

I settled into my bed with a sigh. Twelve hours ago I'd been on a mattress, licking a guy's balls as a woman rode up and down on him. Twenty-four hours ago I'd been on a bearskin rug while a guy I'd met only a few moments before teased my pearl with his tongue. I didn't remember much about him except he took his time afterwards and brought me to a second screaming, clutching climax, one of several I had that night.