Jessica's Story

Everyone says that you have hundreds of life altering moments in college. They also say that you’ll find that one person that makes a permanent impact in your life, even if you never talk to them again after you walk across that stage and get your diploma. I’m not sure how true the first statement is, but the second is unarguable. I never doubted it, but I never expected that my life-changing, awe inspiring, beginning-to-end-all-beginnings, once in a lifetime person would come as it did. 

I despised science; had since the dawn of my school years. So, the notion of a two-hour biology class became the bane of my existence instantly. I loathed the class, with its beakers and Bunsen burners even before it started. If I hadn’t looked up for my intense daze of circle-making I never would have been her. As cliché as it sounds, time really does stop, even for a few microseconds, when your eyes behold the core of splendor. The lab could have blown up in that time and I would have been none the wiser. Love at first sight is for the movie buffs, but lust at first sight is human nature, and that’s exactly what I was feeling.

She wasn’t the normal kind of pretty I’m instantly drawn to. Nothing made her stand out in the crowd of beauty queens and Next Top Models. And that’s what I liked about her. She was simple; she was naturally stunning; she was just herself. She laughed like a child, with her head cocked back slightly; her eyes sparkled when she lifted them towards the sun. I was mesmerized by this person that had appeared while I attempted to drown out how much I hated sitting on stools behind experiment counters. I watched her though, completely caught off guard that someone so beautiful would be taking biology. And then I began to think about how hot she would look in one of those white smocks and safety goggles…

“Hey,” I heard above me. 
I sighed, looked up and bit the eraser on my pencil. “Hi,” I replied, the boredom of class making its debut in my voice. 
“Um…do you want to get together this weekend and study or something?” she asked nervously. She’d always appeared so confident in class; she knew what she was talking about 90% of the time. 
“Or something sounds a little better than studying honestly.” I smiled. She returned it with a grin of her own. God she’s beautiful when she smiles. “Besides, I highly doubt you need a study-buddy.”
“You’re right,” she said leaning on her elbows. Her deep blue eyes locked with mine. “But you do.” The tone of her voice sounded convicting. 
I analyzed the situation, or at least altered my face so that it looked like I was thinking about her proposal. “I’m doing fine in here,” I lied stone-faced. 
“I bet.” She paused for a moment and slapped a folded piece of paper on my desk. “This is where I live. A bunch of us are getting together Friday to go over the stuff for the test Monday. If you want to join then you’re more than welcome to, otherwise, good luck.” 

I don’t know what I expected. A secret interest in me? The need to spend quality time with me to make out and grope and do all that crazy stuff that I’d thought about more often than I wanted to remember? My stomach sank at the simple, small, four, insignificant words that had crossed those amazing lips: A. Bunch. Of. Us. I instantly hated that combination. 

I decided Friday night that it would actually be best for me to go and talk about the parts of a frog and what each body organ did. Honestly, I rarely paid attention in class. What Professor Gardino said went in one ear and out the other. The pages of random drawings in my notebook nearly doubled the amount of notes I had taken the last three weeks of class. I sighed as I approached the apartment door that housed the intelligent group of science dweebs. I knocked slightly and hugged my stack of books to my chest. 

“You came,” she stated as she opened the door. I eyed her quickly. My sweat pants and tank-top seemed dirty next to her form-fitting jeans and t-shirt. My hair sat on the top of my head in an odd shaped bun. 
“I did? Wow. You really are smart,” I said sarcastically. I had a tendency to come across as a bitch and to wear the “I don’t give a fuck” mask. Probably because I didn’t. 
She nodded at me and smiled. “I really am. Come on in.” She stepped aside. My arm rubbed against hers gently as I pushed past her. I didn’t care if she wasn’t interested in me, in my mind I figured I could eventually convince her to be. I had a weird self-confidence; I hated every part of who I was, but I played it off like I was the best catch anyone could ever have. 
“Wow, big study group,” I said as I looked around the empty living room. Two cans of unopened soda were setting on the coffee table. 
“Yeah. No one else is coming,” she said. 
I turned and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “And this wasn’t planned?” 
She smiled at me and shrugged. “Maybe. You need a lot of help in this class. A study group would be distracting.” 
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks,” I said bluntly. Inside, my body ached with excitement, with anticipation… 

Nothing happened that night, besides the fact that we became friend, and then later best friends. We were complete opposites, from the way we dressed down to the music we listened to, and yet we developed this friendship that surpassed anything either of us had had with other people. We talked about ex’s, about our families; we hung out on the weekends more than we did with anyone else. My clique contained people that thought the opposite sex was icky and indulged themselves in purely homosexual relationships. I agreed with them. She was the only ‘bi’ friend that I had ever had. I wouldn’t say that we developed a crush on each other, but you don’t have to have a crush on someone to want to do very, very naughty things to them…

It wasn’t planned, at least not on my end. Dinner with our random group of friends had been a blast. Hanging out with them afterwards was just as fun. Booze pulsated through our veins slightly, making the evening a little more festive than it would have been without it. The evening ended into the next morning, around 1 or so. We ushered our friends out the door, exchanging “thanks’” and ensuring that everyone had a safe and sober ride home.

She fell onto my bed next to me and looked at the plain, empty ceiling. 

“That was fun,” she stated, exhaling slightly. “Thanks for doing that for me.”
“Mhm. You’re welcome. Anything for the birthday girl,” I replied, patting her knee. “Did you get everything you wanted?” I asked, looking at her. She looked back at me intensely. Something in her blue eyes flashed; a light that I had never seen before. I’d lost myself in her many times, floating aimlessly in the crystal sea. 
“Almost everything,” she said quietly, her voice deepening slightly. It sent shivers down my spine. 
“What else did you want?” 
She looked at me for a moment longer before leaning in close and pressing her lips to mine softly. It was the most perfect moment in my life. I had dreamt countless nights of how it would feel for her to be mine, to feel her body against mine, her lips connected to me. It was better than any fantasy I had ever concocted. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered apologetically, pulling away from me slightly. 
I sighed gently and replied in a whisper, “I don’t either, but don’t stop.” 

We tugged at each others clothes in a fight to strip the other down. The tension we had been saving up for the last year spilled from our pores, through our limbs, to our lips, our hands, our ravenous bodies. The need for human contact was long over-due. 

I admired her body with my eyes first, drinking in every inch of her. My fingertips roamed her flesh, tracing each line and curve. She shivered slightly under my touch. She inhaled sharply as I neared her nipples, circling them, causing them to jut from their pink orbs. Her hand gripped my wrist tenderly as I toyed with them, twisting them slightly. She whimpered when my tongue explored them, when my mouth enclosed around them. She squirmed slightly and rubbed her legs together. I wanted her; I needed her. Every ounce of me wanted to give her the greatest birthday present ever, to take her to places that she hadn’t been before. 

I straddled around her, sitting upright on her nude pelvis, the lips of our labia’s pressed together innocently. I ran the tips of my fingernails around her frame. Like a child tracing a friend on the summer’s warm sidewalk, my fingers outlined each of her fingers, down her wrists, over her sides, across her stomach, then back up the other side. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, her eyes hidden behind her eyelids. 

“Are you okay?” I asked against her lips, mine brushing over them as I spoke. She nodded and pulled me closer to her, our bodies pressing tighter together. 
“Just make me cum, please,” she whispered, kissing my neck. 

I kissed her bottom lip before making my way down her toned body. My lips grazed against the inside of her thighs, nearing closer to her most sacred area. Faint dew glistened on her soft, shaved area. The tip of my tongue tested the sweetness, her sexual excitement. The desire to taste her increased as the slight flavor taunted my taste buds. I ran my tongue up her clit slowly, taking in more of her tantalizing zest. She sighed calmly, grabbing the bed-sheets once. I giggled slightly and did it again, a little slower this time, sucking on the tip of it before I pulled away.

“Shit,” she whispered, grabbing the sheets again. 

As time went on, the motions of my tongue became faster, more extreme, more erotic. Her silent, inevitable whimpers soon became full force moans. I waited until I was sure she was wet enough before sliding two of my long, slender fingers inside of her. She discharged one, continuous moan as they ventured deep inside of her. They glided in and out of her leisurely, filling her. I alternated speeds with the speed of my tongue on her aroused clit. Her hand cupped her own firm chest. She massaged her hard, sensitive nipples between her fingers, sending a greater sensation to her lower regions. 

The louder she got, the more I wanted to make her cum, to feel her explode around my fingers. The more I wanted to please her, to ensure that the sounds coming from her small body wouldn’t stop. I was wet; I could feel it running down the inside of my legs. My body longed to cum just as much as hers was fighting the need to cum. My tongue continued to tease her as I rolled her stimulated clit between my lips and my tongue periodically. I blew on it randomly, as if cooling it off before starting in with more erotic afflictments. 

Her body glided up and down on my fingers. She was fucking my hand good, the tips of my fingers hitting her g-spot in all the right manners. As her body neared orgasm, her moans turned into hushed screams. They bounced off the solid walls before vanishing into the evening. Her vagina gripped my fingers tightly, holding them captive for a second, and then releasing them. I felt her body quiver long before she came. She caught the stimulated moan in her throat for a moment before letting it out, the sexual frustration releasing around my fingers. 

I removed them, lapping at the saccharine juices pouring from within her. Her breathing slowed back down little by little as I kissed my way back up her shivering body. I could feel her heart beating rapidly within her chest. She pulled me to her by the back of my neck and kissed me passionately. 

“Happy birthday to me?” she joked, kissing me again.
I laughed gently and nestled her neck with my nose. “Yes, my love. Happy birthday to you.” 

We messed around a few times after that, all which are locked away in my mind, in the pages of my diaries. I think about it and find my clit tingle with excitement; my stomach churns with the desire to taste her again. Perhaps I’ll share those stories with you some day…when her memory resurfaces again on some lonely night again…