I felt like the luckiest man in the world after Jane took my cherry. I’d just gotten royally fucked by the woman I’d been fantasizing about for a couple years now and had probably become my best friend. Not only that, she’d liked so much we were now steadies, so I’d moved directly from monosexuality to rampant, kinky sexuality all courtesy of my voluptuous, delightfully kinky sweetheart. She came over every night and after study we jumped each other bones. Sometimes before we finished studying. And we took nookie breaks. Frankly, we had to dress to go to the john most nights. And most of our friends were pretty happy for us both. Jane had finally gotten with a ‘nice guy’, and I’d finally got laid. I felt like nothing could go wrong. The fly in the ointment turned out to be Bobby. He was my housemate and had been Jane’s boyfriend right up until the moment she climbed in my bed. And even though he liked to put on the old “I’m too cool” schtick and set the whole thing off by treating her like meat, he was pissed as hell. Truth is he liked being seen with someone as sexy and passionate as Jane. Not to mention the fringe benefits. Hearing her in my room after his big screw up kinda rubbed him raw. He said some things about Jane that weren’t at all nice to her, to me, and to pretty much everyone. Every single day. Then he started telling me about all the sexual diseases I was certain to catch because she was only a total slut would fuck a guy like me. That was when I popped him. As I lifted weights and he didn’t, that one shot was enough. Our roommates agreed he had it coming (at least to my face). But Bobby was more popular, so I was the one they asked to leave. When Jane heard what happened she was of two minds. On one hand she was pissed at me for punching him out. On the other she got a little tingle because I did it sticking up for her. We had a short fight where she warned me of the folly of violence immediately followed by epic make-up sex at her place. “I’d be glad to move,” I told her while Çekmeköy escort we were recovering. “The question is where? All the people I’d like to ask are already full up. I can’t afford my own place, and I really don’t want to go back into a dorm.” “Why don’t you move in with me and Missy?,” Jane suggested between gropes. “Do you really think that will work out?” I liked the idea of moving in with two girls, but real life has never been like television. “You two have always gotten along, and she doesn’t have a ton of money.” It was true that Missy and I were friends. She had been part of our circle of friends since we met freshman year. In fact, she’d been Jane’s roommate since sophomore year. She was perky, funny, and totally, utterly hot. Even Jane envied her, and I thought Jane hot enough to fry eggs on a January day. To be honest, Missy was much prettier. She was a leggy bottle blonde whose gently waved hair hung over her shoulders, perfectly framing her heart shaped face, with perfect cheeks, the prettiest smile and big grey eyes. Plus if you taken on a vote on the “best bottom for the class of 1983” Missy would have been the odds-on favorite. Her clothes fit like a glove and flattered her tanned skin, delicious curves and small, shapely breasts. She was cute and sweet enough to take home to Mom and hot enough to give Dad ideas. Which led me to the normal fantasy every man has when the his wonderful girlfriend has a particularly hot friend. But their apartment had one teensy-weensy drawback. Privacy. Their apartment was located in a home built about 1920 which had been subdivided on the cheap into apartments. It boasted four rooms and a bathroom. The front room was Missy’s, but it had been built as den, with only curtains dividing it from the living room. Still, it had the most privacy as it was the only space you didn’t have to enter to get somewhere else. Jane had the back bedroom. The bathroom lay on the far side of her room. If someone had to go Gebze escort bayan they passed through Jane’s room. The living room was the only route to the kitchen. Jane and I knew we’d have a hard time finding privacy. We couldn’t just lock our door and tell Missy to “hold it” every time we were in the mood, and Jane’s not at all quiet when she gets going. So for this to work everyone would have to do a lot of pretending certain things weren’t really happening. Naturally, I wondered if Missy might have a problem with a guy for a roommate under those circumstances. But she said yes without hesitation. She’d already gotten into Bobby for bad-mouthing Jane, and the fact that I’d stuck up for her best friend didn’t hurt. Plus my contribution to the monthly till meant she’d have real spending money. So I moved in the next day. Things started out pretty well. Jane and I were both pretty serious about grades, and the need to be discrete tended to keep us studying when we might otherwise have been pursuing more horizontal activities. Missy had her mind set on a diploma as well. Most nights she headed for the library when she didn’t have a date. And Missy had a date every weekend night as guys were lining up for chance to get inside her skin-tight jeans. That ensured Jane and I private time, and encouraged us to get started early so we’d be done when Missy got home. One night when Missy was out and Jane and I were resting for round two I wondered aloud why Missy never seemed to date anyone for very long. “Missy’s kind of strange about guys,” Jane said between nibbles on my shoulder. “What do you mean? From what I can see she’s doing great with them.” “She can’t seem to find anyone she wants to get with.” “Plenty of them want to get with her, “ I said. “Sure, but she frustrates them. You knew she’s still a virgin?” I sat upright in bed. Missy a virgin? Having struggled long and hard to lose my cherry I couldn’t for the life of me understand why Missy would want to hang Escort Şerifali on to hers. Particularly after Jane had proven sex was every bit as mind-blowing as I’d imagined. And I told Jane so. She smiled but didn’t laugh. “You need to learn how to think like a girl.” “Are you saying girls like being virgins..” “No, I’m saying sex is different for us.” And she rolled her eyes up because she could see I wasn’t getting it. Jane leaned over and kissed me softly. “You’re very smart and sweet but sometimes you don’t have a clue. So lets go back to Gender 101. How hard was it for you to get laid?” “Impossible until you came along.” “Wrong. It was very possible if you’d just asked people out and learned to be yourself.But still, I know it was hard for you. You aren’t the only guy with that problem. It can be hard for guys to get laid. Now let’s compare genders. How hard is it for me to get laid?” “Kiss me again and you’ll find out!” “I’m not talking about us, sweetie. I’m now talking like a Psych major. Keep it abstract. If I walked out of here and decided to get some strange how long would it take me?” I thought about how all my friend ogled Jane and how many times we had discussed. “How picky are you planning to be?””How picky are your guy friends?””About an hour. Maybe two.” Jane smiled and nodded like a schoolteacher who’d just gotten the answer she sought. “Yep. I’m nowhere near so pretty as Missy, but I have these.” Jane lifted up her marvelously full breasts. “Tarzan want boobs. Jane have.” And she shook them for me. “But even if I’ve got more then most, breasts are standard equipment among women. If you’re a girl and you’re hot at all most men want to fuck you. You don’t have to be hot at all if they’re drunk. But ALL most guys want to do is fuck you. They don’t want to talk to you, wake up with you, or share themselves with you. They want you to get the fuck out when they’re done. How would that make you feel when you just gave yourself to this guy who has been telling you nice things all night?” “Yeah, but I liked you when I thought I’d never get to touch you, “ I said, running my fingertip around her left nipple. I delightfully stiffened under my touch, and I heard Jane sigh sweetly. Then she put her hand over mine. “That’s why you get to touch me, sweetie. Because I trust you care.