I may sometimes make it seem like college was a total blast for me, that I spent all my time partying and fucking and just having a grand old time. Hell, I probably make my entire life seem like that sometimes.
Don't you believe it.
I am not a social butterfly. I happen to be pretty good at sex and not hung up about it, so I get more of it than people who are similar to my general temperament but are also prudes. That's natural. But while I did occasionally cut loose in college, I didn't go to a party school and I spent a lot of time working my ass off both academically and to make some extra money, and I spent a certain amount of time hiding in my room from the world because I just didn't feel up to dealing with people's crazy shit. Gwen would drag me to parties, and sometimes I would go voluntarily, but I'm not who I may at times appear to be. Or is that "whom?" I can never remember whether "appear" counts as a linking verb and thus takes the nominative. See, geek.
But all of that preface aside, I did have some banging times in college, which made up in small part for the fact that college basically sucked in most other respects. So I can't pretend to be the voice of wisdom when it comes to telling people to stick to their studies (I was a horrible procrastinatrix among other things) or not take risks.
Thus, I am not worried when Sveta spreads her wings a bit. In fact, I approve of most of it. There is a part of me, the wimpy part which wants to protect her from everything, that... well, that wants to protect her from everything by locking her in her room and throwing away the key. But we ignore that part, because life is for the living, and she's not being stupid, just having some fun. It's fairly harmless.
This is all an intro to talking about some of Sveta's wing-spreading, which I only learned about over Thanksgiving because, while she hinted she had things to tell me, she wanted to do it in person. It was better in person; email would have been awful, and the telephone loses so much in translation. Plus, if it wound her up, that meant I could do something about that while listening.
We all know that Sveta is saddled with a roomie who, while nice and a good roomie, isn't exactly open to sexual possibilities. Thus, not only is Sveta not getting roomie-nookie (and let me tell you, that's great) but she's not really able to bring people back to her room or entertain herself in her own bed. Part of that is Sveta; she's embarrassed, and that's natural for her because she's been tied down for so long that it's hard for her to see that she doesn't have to be embarrassed to say, "Hey, roomie, can I have the room for the evening? I've got a social agenda." I still maintain that her roomie is probably in the same boat, and that communication is the key, but I'm one to talk. Plus I have many advantages of growing up that Sveta lacks.
I do remember, before Gwen and I started fooling around, having to dance around the issue of wanting to bring guys back to the room. I didn't really have a problem asking, "Um, Gwen, is it okay if you get lost for a few hours?" with a suggestive look in my eye, but it was still a bit awkward. Still, after the first few times, and after she had asked me a time or two, it was okay.
So Sveta has to get off, when she can, either when she knows her roomie is out for an extended period (and even then, the cleanup is a pain) or in the bathroom on the toilet, hardly the most conducive area to self-pleasure. And her romance must be conducted elsewhere as well, unless again she's assured of a solo room occupancy for a long enough time.
I told her she should find someone with a single and fuck him (or her), and while we were both joking around about it, I'll be damned if she didn't take my advice. It seems she's bagged herself a senior. I'm so proud. I'm sure he's saying he bagged himself a sophomore (although not a freshman, so there's less cachet there) but make no mistake, while he's definitely the lucky one, she bagged him.
Since I wasn't there (and oh how I wish I had been) I can't give tremendously gritty details, but suffice to say that they met at a party, he invited her to his room for a private cocktail, and pretty soon she was on her back and he was eating her out like he'd done it before. Once he got her to cum (good for him; it takes a skilled tongue or some serious patience) the gush had him so turned on that he ripped off his undies and got down to business without any oral preparation on her part. She says his cock is as good as his tongue, although nothing compared to Mike or Dad (and she's probably not flattering them too much, since they're both really good) and he made out with her while slowly steadily pushing in and out until she was gushing all over again.
She thought it would be a one-time thing (literally, actually) until they started talking post-coitally, wrapped in each other's arms, and found out they're both interested in some similar things, and so they talked a bit of politics while he fucked her again. Now that, I really wish I could have seen, because nothing is sexier than talking shop while fucking.
She still thought it would be a one-night thing until she woke up in his bed the next morning and they went to breakfast and kept talking, and then went back to his room and fucked again. Actually, according to her, he was fingering her through her pants in the dining hall, and it was only by strength of will that they made it back to his room before ripping their clothes off again.
She's taken great pains to assure me that they're just friends. While I am a bit jealous of him, I think she at least is telling the truth; she doesn't seem to have any feelings for him beyond wanting to jump his bones frequently and take advantage of his single room. They haven't dated, they just meet up in his room for sex, but she's getting plenty, the minx, so I will feel much less guilty about sharing Dad with her a bit less one-sidedly this Christmas.
How do I know she's not romantically interested? Well, I don't, but I do know that she's also had another guy, and this one, while the story turned me on immensely, made my protective mode kick into overdrive. She went to a party to unwind after writing a big paper and got a bit drunker than is recommended, and made out on the couch with some guy she doesn't really even know. Then they went to the bathroom and she sucked his cock in one of the stalls, then let him fuck her from behind until he came inside her. Like I said, protective mode went off big-time, but I'm hardly one to talk, having barebacked far too often in my day.
But back to her regular lay. He needs a name, I suppose, in case I have to talk about him again. Let's call him Ernst because it's actually fairly close to the truth and I'm sick of Tom, Dick, and Harry. Ernst is a gentleman, but he's indicated his desire to videotape their congress, and that made Sveta a bit nervous, and rightly so. Because of various reasons, it makes me more than a bit nervous too. I've counseled against it. But should you find an amateur video with Sveta in it, obviously she ignored my council. Like I said, she has to make her own decisions, and I can't protect her from everything, nor should I, because I'm not her fucking mother and when I get protective I sometimes feel like it, which makes me feel really old. The hell with it: if they do videotape it, I hope she'll make a copy for me so I can drool over her.
Actually, she's raised the possibility, should I ever get the time and money to visit, that I could come and team up with her on Ernst, a possibility which sends my nethers to twinkling brightly. We'll have to see how that goes. He'll graduate at the end of the upcoming semester, so there's a fairly narrow window of opportunity there, but still, I could go up with her and we could paint the town red. It makes me so proud to think that; a year ago, I wouldn't have thought she could ever paint even a small village red.
She's also eagerly welcomed Ernst into the elite fraternity of ass-fuckers; he'd never had a girl offer before, but after their first few times, she wanted some anal so she popped the question rather sheepishly. She blushed when she told me about it, so I can only imagine how she must have been during the actual event. Of course, he was game, and so she's enjoyed several back-door forays since. They don't do it every time; she likes feeling his cock in her pussy too much, plus they like fucking face to face and anal doesn't lend itself to that as easily, particularly for the semi-uninitiated.
I asked her if she's let Ernst cum inside her, and she said no, but she was thinking about it; I gather that he wears a condom every time, which raises my estimation of him even as it makes me worry that he's taking it more seriously than she is (or indeed that she's taking it more seriously than she's letting on). Again, I counseled incredibly hypocritical caution, but in fairness to myself after I counseled it, I told her several stories of my own college escapades which put the foot firmly in the mouth of that particular counsel. She's pretty sure she'll let him at some point, but not unless the need gets really strong for a creampie. I know the feeling. Still, she can always slake that thirst at home.
Anyway, that's what's going on with Sveta at college, along a rambling path through my own thoughts on the subject. I think I will have to make a plan to visit and spend some time helping her wear Ernst out a little, since he seems like he has youthful vitality to spare. I don't make it a habit of telling other people's stories, but occasionally one likes to give an update. Speaking of which, I hope I'll hear from Mike soon and have something to update there too.
Yeah, we can all live vicariously through my coed nymphet of a girlfriend, at least until she dumps me for someone her own age, instead of an old fogy who acts like her mother sometimes. Yeah, anxiety and college sex; I remember the combo well. Now all I need is the stench of cheap beer, vomit, and coconut rum, and a term paper due tomorrow.
