It seemed that I had made a misstep, but just as we finished our coffee date, Paul said. “We should get together again soon, have a drink or lunch someplace downtown.”
That was more serious than simply talking with a fellow student in Finley for an hour. I knew we were crossing a boundary, but it made me feel like a femme fatale to be dating another woman’s lover. I could have said, Michelle wouldn’t like it if she found out, but I didn’t.
We agreed to go to a place down by Columbia University in two days. I tried to pretend that there was nothing unusual about it, but I was feeling thumps inside my heart and inside my crotch too. That was going to be more than the tentative approach we have been making up to then.
You might be surprised at how women consider lust sometimes, and I was surely getting ahead of myself. Michelle wasn’t on my mind at all. Judy, he obviously likes you. You’re going to be twenty soon. He’d be a good prospect if I’m ever going to lose my virginity.
When it was time to leave, I made an excuse about attending a non-existent class. In reality, I was so aroused that I went across the way of one of my favorite ladies’ room stalls in Wagner. I took my panties off — I also had thigh-high stockings under my skirt – and hung them on a coat hook.
Then I masturbated twice in there while fantasizing about Paul. The first time I imagined sitting on him cowgirl style and the second time I wanted to be standing up but bent over as he took me from behind. Of course, I was sitting down at the time, but fantasies have a logic of their own.
I had to be careful to keep my voice down because some other lady might enter the room at any time. Yet I remember kicking the stall door with my boots each time I climaxed. Maybe on some level, I didn’t care who heard me. If someone caught me, who were they going to report me to?
*****
On the afternoon I was to see Paul again, I met him on the sidewalk in front of a pub on Broadway in Morningside Heights. I knew I was being a bad girl by going out with Michelle’s boyfriend, but I had been imagining what it would be like for some time. I mean, he was also doing the wrong thing by asking for that date but it seemed to take some of the onus off of me.
You might think I shouldn’t trust that he wouldn’t eventually cheat on me too, but at that point, I was just living in the moment. I would think about the future when it arrived.
Mostly we had some glasses of wine while we sat at a table. I was trying not to appear too flirty, but I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm about being with him. He must have noticed because a couple of times he put a hand over one of mine on the tabletop.
When we left the place, he took my hand and walked with me over to a bench in Riverside Park about two blocks away. It seemed so natural that I readily went along with it.
As we sat there overlooking the river, we turned to kiss each other. In a minute or so we were having a make-out session, and I loved every moment of it. At that point, I understood why first kisses are such a big deal.
Paul got pretty forward with me, but I didn’t mind at all. Rather, he was doing more than I had hoped for on that day. He unbuttoned my coat, and put a hand on my blouse to rub my breasts. I could feel my nipples stiffening inside my bra, and he took the time to twirl his fingers around each one in turn.
By the time we left there an hour later, I was feeling incredibly horny but there was nowhere for us to go for further fooling around. He took me home, about a mile south on the bus, and I knew I’d have my way with myself as soon as possible.
I told my parents I had some work to do at my desk in my room, and but I still made sure the door was locked. I slipped my shoes, tights, and underpants off. I supposed I could get away with being barefoot if I got caught, but no one could come in without knocking first.
Then, with my desk facing away, from the door, I put a hairbrush and my left hand under my skirt and released all that pent-up lust in a few minutes. Then I relaxed for a short while and did it all over again.
I had to be quiet but I gasped and put my head back during the two times that I came. Then I sat there pondering what was happening in my life. I hoped Paul would do more with me in the next few days — in fact, I was sure he was going to continue seducing me. I had some twinges of guilt when I thought about Michelle, but I was determined to get whatever I needed out of that developing situation with him.
******
Joining the paper myself seemed like something I should do, but I didn’t know what I’d write about and somehow it didn’t appeal to me that much. However, I did offer to write a single, fairly dull news story (I couldn’t understand how Michelle could stand doing those things). Thus I became listed in the masthead as a “contributor,” one step below a full staff member.
There were about a half-dozen such people with casual attachments to the publication. At least it gave me a reason to hang out in the office as much as I pleased.
When I think back to that time, I know that Paul was quite assertive when making proposals to me. I certainly was happy with that, and I did nothing to dissuade him. Misbehaving with him seemed thrilling.
Maybe most guys are just like that: they’ll take advantage of anything they can get from a woman or whatever she will give to them. They pretend to be loyal to their “main” woman, but they will easily fold when some other chick wiggles her ass or shows her pussy to them. For a while that chick was me.
One late afternoon, not long after I had joined the staff, Paul quietly asked me to stick around the office for a while. There were only two other people there, and when they left, he locked the door and turned the lights off. It was in late March, so it was nearing sunset as seven P.M. approached.
He made a good call by turning off those glaring fluorescents that lit most of the shabby old building’s interior. Once, when it had been part of a Catholic women’s college, it had been quite beautiful. Now, in the municipally-owned 1970s, it was not an ideal place for a romantic rendezvous.
As the room darkened, we sat on the old red couch near the windows and began making out. I knew he’d be receptive, so I said, “Would you like to see the panties I have on today? I’ve been buying some very nice new ones.” On that day I had a pair of ample but lacey black ones.
Any guy will say yes to that, and I pulled my skirt up as we continued to kiss. Of course, he dropped his right hand down and put it inside the crotch of my underpants. His rubbing of my pussy felt great, and I took my garment off and dropped it on the floor.
Paul had experience feeling up his two girlfriends, and he knew exactly how to fondle me. He put two of his fingers inside me and used two more to gently press around my clitoris. He was subtle about that, not pushing too much directly on the most sensitive spot. My legs seemed to float up and out and I hung on to his shoulders as I moaned.
I’m capable of coming quite quickly with the right stimulus, and I soon had an orgasm — the first ever I hadn’t induced myself. I briefly worried that some staff member would arrive late and unlock the door, but I completely forgot that as I gave in to my pleasure.
As we sat back and held each other, I knew that “heavy petting” of that sort (yes, it sounds so quaint and yet it was apt) required reciprocity on my part.
Well, let’s call it what it really was, mutual masturbation. His finger-fucking of me was followed by my handjob on him. Without saying what I was going to do, I dropped a hand into his lap and felt his erection inside his trousers.
He murmured, “Please, Judy, take it out.”
“Of course, honey, you know I always intended to do that.”
By now there was enough light coming in from streetlights on the campus for us to see what was happening. I undid his pants and his stiff cock sprung out. It wasn’t merely a formality when I praised him. “That is a really nice one.”
As I gently rubbed it he moaned. I giggled, “Don’t worry, I’m going to make you come, that is for sure.”
I took out a tube of hand cream and applied some to him so it wouldn’t be a dry rub. I asked him, “So how do you usually do it to yourself?”
“I grip the base and rub it with the other hand.”
“So you’re not a one-handed kind of guy.” I knew from Michelle the various techniques that men used on themselves.
“No, two hands work best.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do on you.”
I was well aware of the sexual power I had over him at that point. He dropped his own hands down to help mine. He was so charged up that it took him only a few minutes to come.
His hands soon were frantically pulling mine along. Maybe it was an illusion, but I seemed to feel a throbbing inside his cock. Then I saw a man ejaculate for the first time in my life. As a white stream shot up and out of him, I was impressed and I blurted out, “Wow, that is simply amazing.”
The aftermath was a kind of comedy, and we laughed at the sticky messes covering our hands. Then we looked down and saw that his semen had landed on the floor a few inches from my discarded black panties. He was apologetic about it. “Oh, I had no idea where it was going to come down.”
“Don’t worry about it. Even if you had hit them, they’re wash and wear!”
*****
The lack of privacy is a problem for young couples without their own places. Michelle already had her apartment. We, however, had to make do with whatever we could find. Hanging around that office at night was a bit unnerving, and we didn’t feel relaxed knowing that there were a lot of people who had keys to the room.
report Under those conditions, the physical part of our relationship always felt quite rushed. It was especially difficult when we had to leave quickly and we did not have the time to decompress and cuddle.
Of course, automobiles have been a time-honored way for lovers to have a location for their trysts. Paul didn’t have a car, but he borrowed his dad’s Pontiac at times. That gave us an opportunity for some fooling around. However, he could only have access to it during the daytime.
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