Chapter 240: How Much To Ride The Pony In This Dog And Pony Show?

I’m such a bad influence on such pure college women.

“Where did you learn to make a woman orgasm in less than two minutes,” she asked.

Since she happened to be on my back with my arms under her butt, with the skirt between us, as my thumb was rubbing her clit as she bounced on my back, I said, “Martial arts teaches us to be observant of what is going on around us, so we don’t get attacked unaware. Careful observation is all that is needed to see what works and what doesn’t. From there, it is just a matter of doing what is working as quickly as possible.”

What worked for her was letting my pinkie slide into her soaked vagina, as my thumb rubbed her clit, while we were waiting at a crosswalk with close to a dozen students who had no clue where my fingers were right then. Once her clit was too sensitive, I changed my pinkie for my middle finger. She liked feeling it sliding in and out of her while bouncing around on my back. We arrived at the faculty club in plenty of time for her to go to the lady’s room to dry her pussy as I washed my hands.

Maybe it would have been better for me to have the smell of her pussy on my fingers. These older men would probably cum in their pants.

Since we were going to talk, we were all provided a large salad. It wasn’t a complete waste of time because mine was excellent. The questions from the professors, and deans of colleges, eating with us bordered on idiotic. I could tell they were talking down to me like I was any other fifteen-year-old. I tolerated it as I answered their most obscure questions with the only correct answer before I backed it up with the reasons why. One of the ancient-looking Chemistry professors asked me what I got from mixing three different substances. That was the opening I could jump into with both feet.

Instead of answering him, I asked him the purity of the reagents, relative humidity, height below or above sea level, atmospheric pressure, and where the planed to mix the reagents.

“Son, this is a simple basic chemistry question I would expect you to know given your supposed level of college-level knowledge you feel grants you the right to earn a college degree without ever attending any classes,” he said gruffly.

I just answered back with, “Sir. It is a basic chemistry one-o-one question. I mistakenly assumed you were asking because this is a trick question. Each of the reagents reacts differently based on temperature, the amount of water in the air, the reagent’s purity, and substantially on the atmospheric pressure where it is mixed. It will release a dense toxic gas cloud if mixed on top of the Rocky Mountains on a seventy-degree day with low humidity. At sea level, in a climate-controlled lab, it becomes a rapidly expanding, inert foam resistant to fire, cold, and most acids. I can run through every variation of conditions, with resulting products of the reaction, if you would like.”

The chemistry professor was noticeably impressed.

Before he could say anything else, the chancellor walked up to the table and said, “Phil, I think you have met that mythical student you have always wished to find. How many years have you asked the question on final exams to never have anyone write more than the name of the product when combined inside a vacuum chamber using reagents with a ninety-nine point seven percent purity?”

I stood up the shake the chancellor’s hand before sitting back down.

For the next half an hour, he did the whole spiel about what he thought I wanted to hear. In the end, it was all window dressing. The university I visited the day before had already told them what they wanted to know.

By three PM, I was done for the day. Since my itinerary had me leaving for my flight in the morning, I couldn’t just cut out now, not that I wanted to. Karen had plans for me.

Being glorious outside, we walked around the campus, talking about random things. Our conversation changed to sex before long.

“David, I’m sure it won’t surprise you to find out that I became curious about sex years before I started puberty. I had sex education in elementary school when I was seven. My foray into male anatomy and intercourse proved extremely difficult to find opportunities to study. Most boys in my grade had already moved from wanting to play doctor with girls every chance they got to dodging girls, who aren’t in their family, as if we had some incurable plague. Quite disappointingly, no amount of the available lubricants permitted penetration. Before my starting here, I went to spend time with my fourth cousins, one of whom is thirteen. He already had hair at the base of his penis, which had lengthened slightly from before he hit puberty. We found a place and had the time. I explored his erect penis as he explored my still developing breasts. It didn’t take much for him to ejaculate. I don’t even think he will tell me, but his six-year-old sister saw it right as he came. She ran off screaming that we were naked, I had been playing with his penis, and had squeezed out the white stuff that had made it hard. That visit ended abruptly, as you would expect. To keep me from furthering my knowledge, they moved me from a single-sex floor in a normal dorm to the virgin vault and placed under house arrest, so to speak,” Karen explained. “Today, you have been around many willing and very ready, naked women and yet ignored your own needs. I can’t even count the number of orgasms you’ve given me today. You’ve never requested I give you privacy to sneak off to get some relief. By assigning a female, in the virgin vault, to escort and share a room with you, the chancellor unknowingly ensured I continue expanding my knowledge of sex. You have more experience than me, so I have a lot to learn. That is if you want to play around with me. I see you have prophylactics in your bag if I decide I want to explore vaginal and anal intercourse. I do have multiple types of lubricants.”

I guided her down onto a side path that appeared to lead to an exit door off to the left behind a building-height wall. She knew this area since she pulled me down the sidewalk, around two corners, and stopped at a locked gate. They fenced both sides of the walkway from the ground to the roofline of the building. Bricked over doors and windows lined both sides of the path as it continued off around yet another corner of the building.

“This was a path they built when constructing this building back in the early fifties. That was right when they started allowing women to attend the college. To keep women from co-mingling with the men, the women went in groups to and from the buildings where they had classes. Walled paths like these allowed women to enter and leave the building through hallways restricted to campus police, escorts, and women. By the sixties, they decided the women weren’t going to be gang-raped by horny males or all end up pregnant. They’re-designated for use by black students, both male and female. The racists and bigots said it was distracting the white students seeing the black students walking to class on these paths, so they had all the windows bricked over. In the seventies, the equal rights groups on campus forced the college to brick up all the doors from these paths to stop the path’s use,” she told me as she got something from her backpack that she was using on the lock. “It doesn’t take much imagination to know why these paths got gated off. The only rape accusation came from the campus police when they came across a black male allowing a white woman to ride his penis with her long skirt hiding that action going on underneath. It was consensual between the man and women,” Karen told me. “Having a strict curfew and restricted periods where I could be outside the dorms, I spent my entire first year here exploring every inch of the campus, including the steam and maintenance tunnels, while learning the history of each area. That required a lot of time digging through the school archives to dig up the details for some areas. You see, I found a loophole in the curfew rules, and that is being in the library. Our ID cards allow us to enter and leave between seven PM and seven AM. That is when I did my research. I found that if I gave the guy working the research desk a peek down my shirt at my braless breasts, around two in the morning, allowed me to access materials undergraduate students can’t request. It only took me two weeks to find that that guy liked to see. Fourteen-year-old-braless breasts and shots of the hair on the sides of my vulva did the trick. One night I was very lonely because most of the campus went to a big away game at our biggest rivals. He pissed off his bosses, and they made him work even if the place would be empty tonight. I slipped on a button-up shirt and skirt without panties. Hold on. I almost have it.”

She fiddled with the lock for another minute before she opened the gate and rushed me inside. After being sure the gate locked back behind us, she flipped a lever on the door that she said wouldn’t allow it to open from the other side until the lock lever disengaged. It turned out to be yet another thing she dug up when digging into the history.

We continued around the corner to end up in a beautiful little garden area with benches, flowers, sculpted bushes, and even two fruit trees. Too bad that they bricked over all the windows that faced this courtyard. Karen explained how the gardening staff still maintained each of these hidden paradises weekly. They were often used now by the university for special gatherings and when they were taking pictures for marketing the university.

“I taught myself how to pick locks too. I had to have something to keep me from going crazy here since I go all year. My parents can’t afford to get me back and forth to home, except for the winter break around Christmas. This year I managed to get a ride from a friend that was driving right past my exit off the interstate on their way home,” she told me as she went around sniffing the flowers and checking out the garden.

Karen reached into her backpack to retrieve two water bottles from her bag, and we sat on a shaded bench. She moved to have her back against my side. She wanted to relax, so we just sat there, enjoying the quiet of the hidden little garden. We had nowhere to be now since I had played the game with the professors and chancellor.

As we sat, she played with my hand until unbuttoning her shirt and putting on her bare breast. Her nipple wasn’t hard, so I just cupped her breast as I let my thumb idly rub around on it and her chest. She wasn’t getting aroused at all, and it seemed to help her relax. Before long, I let my hand light rub from her collarbone down to the top of her skirt and back up, stopping to cup her breast from time to time. Occasionally I would let my thumb rub around her nipple or roll it between my fingers. Whenever I felt her body starting to get aroused, versus calm and peaceful, I would cup her breast and pull the orgasm energy out of her. I somehow could feel that this was what she needed, even if she wanted something else.

“As I was telling you, I headed over to the library dressed pretty much as I am now. When the guy in the research department started coming over to strike up a conversation, I made sure he saw me unbutton my shirt to the last button and spread it open he could get a good look at half of each breast and my nipples. I made sure he knew I am hands-off. He could look but not touch. Later I put my foot under me so he could see I wasn’t wearing panties. I was as nervous as any time in my life. It was so intense I wasn’t even able to get aroused. By three in the morning, I had both breasts out in the open, and my knees parted to let him see everything down there, including my anus. I got scared when he sat down in front of me and pulled out his erect penis. It was drooling precum as it boobed around. I looked at it, and he looked at me. Right before I left, we went into the back room, where I put my hand on his erection. That was all he needed to ejaculate. He offered to do the same for me, but I reminded him I am hands-off,” Karen told me. “I don’t know if someone saw us, or what, but there was an extremely unattractive woman, with inch-thick lenses in her glasses, working the next time I went there. That was the end of my late-night research. I sort of miss testing of my limits in that kind of way. Do you know that you are the only person in the world, so far, that has touched my breast for that long? It makes me feel amazing. I don’t know how you know it is turning me on for you to stop until I cool back off. Are you daring enough to get completely naked with me here? Unless someone breaks down the gate or flies a drone overhead, so one will see us.”

In a flash, I had our clothes folded neatly on the bench near us. The grass was lush and soft, so we ended up with my back against a tree and her sitting on my thighs with her knees outside, facing me. My limp dick was lying on my leg, touching her knee.

Karen went off somewhere in her head as she was rubbing my chest, arms, stomach, and penis. Her fingers felt like silk gliding along my hard dick. I rubbed her sides, breasts, and between her legs. We were both at the point of moving things along, so I pulled her tight against me. She wasn’t ready to quite go that far, yet. Anytime either of us started to cool off, she would slide her pussy close to my dick and then rubbing it around between her lips to get it slippery. She kept doing it until our motors were running again and then went back to having me hold her tight.

“Can we go all the way? I think the only thing normal about me is that my body clock in on a strict thirty-one-day schedule. Today is day twenty-seven. My ovulations always hurt many times worse than my period cramps, and I ovulated about twelve days ago. I know you have condoms, but I don’t want to use one my first time when I know I’m safe. I know I don’t have any diseases, and you don’t show signs of having any. If you had any chance of having STDs, you wouldn’t be staying on my floor or with me anyway. Can we see how good you fit inside me?” she asked as she was already holding the head of my dick where the slightest push would force the crown past the tight ring of her vaginal muscles.

I smiled as I told her, “Karen, it is your body. If this is what you feel you want in your heart and mind, then I’m more than happy to let you slide down my hard dick. If you have any reservations at all, then we need to go back to cuddling. I’m more than happy to use my tongue and fingers to give you the physical stimulation to get you off as many times in a row as you want.”

Seeing that she slipped off deep in thought, I lifted her off my dick and pulled her back into my laps to rub her back again. She melted into my arms as she continued to be lost wherever she went in her mind. As before, when either of us cooled off, she warmed us both up. After twenty minutes, or so, she started nuzzling my neck and then began kissing it before kissing me all over my face. Once she began kissing my lips, she didn’t stop rubbing her clit against my dick. Her tongue was trying to clean my molars when she came. I held her to me as she came down from that massive orgasm.

“Oh, Wow! That was beyond amazing. I’ve never had one that intense before David,” Karen told me as she cuddled to me.

Once the post-orgasmic bliss started wearing off, she began grinding her pussy against my dick until I was hard again. When she reached between us to get the head slippery, she didn’t move it back to glide her clit down along my shaft. Instead, she pushed the head against her hymen and let herself push it against my dick until it pushed through. She let gravity slowly let her slick vagina slide down until her vagina stopped her downward progress. We went back to making out while we moved my dick in and out of her pussy to stretch it so she could get it all inside her.

You are just going to have to deal with what you can get inside while sitting on my legs.

We sat there, enjoying the quiet. The only sound being the slow raising and lowering her hips as she slowly rode me. I could see the orgasm energy inside her build and then dissipate as she rode me. Like when I was cupping her breast when we weren’t trying to climax, we were only enjoying the pleasure a boy and girl can get while having sex. When her legs started getting tired, I had her lift off me, turn around and slide back down on my dick. With only a minor bit of working out bodies into the right positions, I could thrust two inches and out of her while playing with her breasts. Once we were past the warm fuzzies, and ready to fuck like rabbits, I worked us onto our sides with me spooned up behind her. Soon I was between her legs, with me on top, resting on my elbows, when I started taking full strokes in and out. At least as far as her vagina would allow.

Out of the blue, her phone belts out an alarm that startled me so much I thrust into her hard. If not for her the baby fat still plumping up her mound, I think we would have heard our pubic bones slam together.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “If I don’t set a reminder to finish up what I’m doing, I won’t get to the cafeteria in time to eat dinner before the place is a zoo. The noise gets to be too much for me.

I left myself buried inside her as I asked, “How are we going to finish up? Do we stop here, get dressed, go eat, and resume this later, or do we rut like animals until I climax?”

“Both,” Karen said with a giggle as she spread her legs widely and reached down enough to slap my ass to get going.

We had been having slow sex for so long that it didn’t take much to get us moving right along. As I started to climb toward busting a nut, I managed to pull my pants over, get out a rubber, quickly roll it down and go back to getting myself off. Karen had been climaxing, so when I buried my dick inside her to fill the rubber, she came at the same time. I rolled us over for her to be on top as we enjoyed the afterglow.

When her second reminder sounded, it hit her that I had cum inside her, and she had gone commando.

With a quick look around, she said, “Dang it, David. I’m smarter than this. Men make a mess when they get off a minute or two into having sex. We did it slowly for over an hour. I was already feeling squishy inside my vagina before you ejaculated. I don’t have anything to use to clean up. Other than squatting over the drain to let as much run out as possible, there isn’t anything else I can do to keep from smelling like semen until it finally all drains out.”

“We both know that this isn’t my first time having sex. I know how big a mess I make. Fortunately, you did think ahead, but you forgot in the heat of the moment. Just as I started getting there, I managed to get a condom out of my pocket and slide it on before I pumped my load inside you,” I told Karen, as I brushed her hair out of her face. “As the saying about rubbers says, cleanup is a breeze.”