5 One in the Hand Is Worth... - Cover

5 One in the Hand Is Worth...

Copyright© 2009 by Onagerian Surmise

Chapter 2

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The story behind Kendall's "Big Mistake Night". Randy Burton was a happy sophomore pre-med student with a sweet freshman girlfriend. Then he sat next to the beautiful coed that all his fraternity brothers coveted, Kendall Payton. She had a "summer romance" boyfriend, so nothing was going to happen between them. But in the Greek world at the University of Tennessee, nothing was as it seemed...

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   BiSexual   Heterosexual  

I spent the rest of the afternoon in my room, trying to study, but without much success. My eyes kept drifting from my textbook to look out the window, as I thought about my encounter with Kendall ... and about my girlfriend, Gerri.

I'd just decided to take a break from studying so I could go work out and clear my head, when there was a crisp rap on the door behind me. It wasn't locked and was already swinging open when I turned. To my surprise it revealed Gerri standing in the doorway.

"Hi," she said. She stood expectantly on the threshold with her usual challenging smile, waiting for my reaction.

Her brown eyes were intently focused on mine, but what first caught my eye was her hair. It was most often held demurely behind her head in various ways. When combined with the black framed glasses she occasionally wore instead of contacts, it gave her what I teasingly called her 'sexy librarian's' look. But now her shoulder length dark brown hair was down, the way she knew I liked it, framing her pretty face.

"What a nice surprise, Ms. Thomas!" I exclaimed, hoping my prior train of thought didn't make me look guilty.

I jumped up to give her a welcoming hug as she kicked the door closed behind her. As I held her I caught the subtle scent of jasmine, my favorite fragrance; something I usually sensed during a weekend date. Hmmm ... hair ... perfume...

"I thought you had a Chi O meeting at the Panhellenic this afternoon?" I asked.

She shrugged as our hug ended, looking up to give me a brief peck on the lips. Since she was five feet four inches to my six feet, she nearly always had to look up to kiss me. I realized from her kiss that she was wearing a subtle shade of lipstick. Yet another unusual thing on a school day.

"I did, but Cynthia called and said since it was so nice out I should skip it. She told me to go see what my boyfriend was up to."

'Up to?' I thought distractedly. Guilt about my interchange with Kendall momentarily rattled around in my head again.

Cynthia was Gerri's 'big sister' at their sorority, the Chi Omega's. Their freshman members had more senior sisters assigned to them for academic help and instruction in the obligations and traditions of the sorority. Although it seemed that the tradition Cynthia was an expert on was how to party and have a good time.

"Cool! You can't get in trouble if your big sister suggested it," I said.

Her getting into trouble with the sorority wasn't likely. Her mother was a former member of the Chi O sorority at UT, and Gerri had followed in her mom's footsteps. I'd done the same with my dad and Pi Kappa Alpha, a.k.a. the Pikes.

Her smile broadened for a moment, but then her face darkened.

"I could hear Hayley in the background when she called, bitching about a freshman putting a boyfriend ahead of sorority business. Cynthia just told her to butt out."

Hayley Devlin had been a hazing thorn in Gerri's side since she had pledged to Chi O. She had a scary reputation in the Greek community, but on the other hand she was also the sorority sister that'd introduced Gerri to me at a party. A few dates later we'd become a recognized Greek couple.

I remembered that Hayley's harassment had all but stopped after Gerri took her and most of the Chi O officers to her home in Nashville to meet the rising star country music group, Alabama. Gerri modestly described her father as a 'producer' in the country music industry. Whatever that meant, name any country music star and Gerri had met them.

I guess Hayley was getting back to her bitchy tricks again.

"She'll get over it soon enough, sweetie," I said, rubbing her back soothingly. "She can't just mess with you without a reason."

"Ha! Try telling her that! She thinks because of one favor she did for me that she owns me or something. My dad could buy and sell hers anytime he wants, but she still thinks she's the queen bee of 'Bitch Island, ' and I've just about had it with her."

As she finished her rant I pushed free of our hug long enough to sit on my bed and pull a hundred and ten pounds of warm female onto my lap. I tilted her head back for an open mouthed kiss, smothering her venting.

She grunted and squirmed until the kiss ended. She glared at me for a moment, but then made a visible effort to relax. Her squirming had moved her skirt fairly high up, and I rested a hand on her firm thighs.

"Anyway," she continued, "I was surprised when Cynthia called. But she knows I've been stressing about getting ready for tests and keeping up with all the sorority stuff. So she suggested I go relax for a while. But ... are you sure you're not too... 'busy' to see me?" She pinched my arm lightly.

A week ago I'd been overwhelmed with school work (did I mention I was pre-med?) and broke a date with her at the last minute. She'd mentioned several times since that it shouldn't happen again... ever.

I knew it was just friendly teasing, and without really thinking about it I rolled her a little to one side, exposing a firm butt cheek. I could tell the firm slap I administered was the right thing to do when she looked surprised for a moment and then grinned. Sorority girls might say they like the sensitive type, but in my experience they respond better to a firm hand.

"I can make time for my beautiful girlfriend, even if she does seem to be carrying a grudge a bit too long."

She shrugged. "I try not to let Hayley bug me so much; and you're right, it's getting better with her."

Then she looked at me with an odd expression. It was somewhat ... clinical.

"When she called, Cynthia asked me something..."

I looked a question at her.

"She asked if I was keeping you happy."

"Uhh... 'happy'?"

"Well, she and I have gotten pretty close. She knows that we haven't, you know..."

It always amazes me how much intimate information girls will share with each other, and she saw my eyes widen.

"It was just girl talk, you know how it is," she said.

I didn't know, actually, but she chose not to acknowledge my discomfort.

"I dated guys in high school that said they'd be happy without ... well, without sex. But it usually turned out it was only until they found it somewhere else."

I took a moment to choose my words carefully. "Gerri, I don't think we'd have gotten together in the first place if I was like that. You haven't made any secret of how you feel about it. As long as I get first chance if you decide you're ready (I gave her a wink), I'm totally fine."

She didn't look very comforted. "Are you sure?" she asked. She finally broke eye contact and began picking at her fingernails before continuing.

"I mean, you're a great guy and everything, but ... I may not be ready for ... well, I don't know when. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you, when ... when you're so nice to me."

I tried to look reassuring. "I hope you know me better than that," I replied. "We've talked about not letting things get too heavy, too fast. It's cool."

Kendall was gorgeous, but Gerri was very pretty too, if less spectacularly so. As sure as the sun rises, there would always be a girl somewhere that was prettier than the girl I was dating, but I'd never even been tempted to breakup with a girlfriend because of it.

But then ... I hadn't done anything like impulsively offer to meet any of those other girls for dinner ... and they hadn't been pre-med ... and statuesque ... or compulsorily interesting...

I may have answered too fast, and Gerri's gaze rose again to examine me closely. I started rubbing her back again. "Besides, you take care of me in other ways," I added, pulling her more firmly against my chest.

She looked mildly exasperated, but I could see some humor in her eyes. "Can't you be serious for one minute? I'm trying to talk about what you expect from our relationship."

"So am I," I said as I kissed her lips again before moving on to her neck, while moving a hand to her waist.

"God, if feels so much better when you kiss me without that bristle on your lip," she murmured. I'd been trying on a mustache for a few months before we met, but had shaved it off at her (repeated) request. She'd certainly become more enthusiastic about kissing afterwards.

"But I didn't come here to mess around," she said, hitting my back a couple times in faux resistance. But her voice had lost some of its assertiveness, and she raised a hand to the back of my head as I kissed my way to her collarbone.

"Are you sure?" I murmured against her soft skin. "You didn't come here expecting to get lucky?"

"Well ... I don't want to be ... cruel..."

I looked up, unsure what that meant.

"I mean ... I want you to be happy," she amended quickly.

I decided to ignore her odd protestation and returned to her neck. She remained quiet, running her hands through my hair, her breathing deepening. I looked up again, and could tell she was submitting to my seduction when her eyes began to flutter.

It was a sexual idiosyncrasy of hers - she closed her eyes a lot during sex, a few times nearly without interruption from the first kiss until she reached the peak of her strongest orgasm. She said it helped her focus on her body to truly enjoy herself and achieve a strong climax.

I could always tell when I had fully satisfied her when her eyes slowly opened and she smiled dreamily at me. Then she would focus her attention on me, which never failed to conclude with enthusiastic fellatio.

We'd tried a sixty-nine session; it was fun for me, but she hadn't been able to come that way. It was the only thing that made me impatient with her. Having coital sex would make simultaneous pleasure pretty much unavoidable, and I wanted that almost as much as the physical pleasure of making love.

But there are worse things to deal with when accommodating a new lover, I reasoned. An eager to learn fellator virgin lover, I reminded myself

I cupped a breast over her shirt and bra, while taking my kisses back to her mouth, gently brushing the tip of my tongue over her full soft lips until they parted to let me inside. We lingered together over a kiss that became more urgent and animated by the moment.

She brought a hand up to grab mine on her chest, in a last token effort to resist me. But as her tongue came to life and danced with mine, her grip on my hand changed from a restraint to a catalyst, pulling it to the bottom of her blouse. Her other hand began feeling blindly for the buttons below, tugging them open, clearing a path for me to follow.

She reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra. I felt rather than heard a moan of anticipation deep in her chest as I reached underneath it. Her just larger than apple sized breasts filled my hands perfectly.

Her moan turned to a giggle as I leaned down to pull the bra down with my teeth, shaking it like a dog wrestling with a bone as I dragged it over her shoulders and stiffening nipples. Then I pushed her back, still holding her breasts, until she was flat on the bed.

"Down boy!" she exclaimed

"I'll get down there eventually."

"I didn't mean you had to rush..."

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