admin
03 Ağustos 2023, 09:52
I really wasn't into projects. Long before in my various encounters with members of the opposite sex I'd come to the conclusion that there were two types of girls I could meet while I was at college. Ones who I could tell would wind up sharing my pillows that evening and those who wouldn't. I was always focused on the first group. My attitude was that I was in school to showcase my pitching talents to MLB and to learn those things which would provide the foundation for my future career after baseball, not to invest in building relationships. I enjoyed exercising my dick a few times a week but I had no time to learn their names.
I'm not saying anything bad about the sometimes beautiful members of the second group. I'm sure that the type of girl I'd probably end up marrying someday was probably in that group but as I said, at that point in time I wasn't into projects.
On that particular Friday night I was pretty sure I was going to get laid. In fact since there were two parties that night, one a frat party at the Sig house and the other an exercise in hard beer chugging in the basement level at Harrison Hall, I was quite certain I'd wind up with a 'three holer', a girl who'd be willing to accept my cock in all of her three orifices. The more the deck was stacked in my favor with a multitude of targets the more demanding I became in my pursuit of sexual satisfaction.
I was enjoying my second Gran Patron Platinum at Casey's, the bar closest to the campus, planning out my evening which, I was sure, would culminate in my driving my cock into some freshman girl's inexperienced anus. Somehow I couldn't imagine anything more clearly that staring at this head of long hair (I didn't much care about the color but in my mind this one was a honey blonde) attached to a sleek back without an ounce of fat and culminating in the full round twin globes my hands had a tight grip on. I spread those cheeks and spit on her star shaped target. It was at this point in my fantasy that the girl would say something totally forgettable like "Please don't... not my ass!" or "Go slowly it's my first time." Whatever she said would always make me smile as I jammed my hard cock as quickly and as deeply into her as I could.
I planned to finish my tequila at Casey's and head to the Sig house to test the waters. The girls were probably more sober earlier in the evening and although many cherries had been hoisted up the house' second floor flagpole the atmosphere was generally less intimidating to inexperienced ladies than the brawl at Harrison Hall. In the unlikely event that I struck out at the frat I could always use the brawl as my fall back. The girls would not only be more shitfaced but as it would be later in the evening they'd be a lot more desperate to avoid going back to their dorms alone. It was always at this point in the evening when you'd see the most missing tops on the various women both on and off the dance floor.
Just as I was about to rise and pay my check my catcher and two of the outfielders from my team stumbled in, saw me and loudly greeted me. Since I had to buy my catcher a tequila I just went ahead and ordered four.
I could see immediately that they were all several drinks ahead of me. Pat, the center fielder, threw his arm around my shoulder and blasted, "Boy it's a good think that we're too drunk to drive because the cops are out in force to-night. Word is they've already handed out three DUIs and carted one poor sucker off to spend the night in a cell."
I had to ask, "If the cops are out then why is it so good that you're shitfaced?"
He started laughing, "Because we're not driving!"
By the time I left they had each sprung for 'another round' and I discovered I couldn't walk the straightest of lines either but I stuck to my plan and headed on to the Sig house.
The place was packed! I couldn't remember being in such a target rich environment since I was a freshman three years before. I also couldn't remember being this loaded what with the ocean of Patron floating around in me. The place was crowded to the point of being uncomfortable as I drunkenly weaved through the mass of mostly female flesh on the dance floor.
Usually the game room downstairs was a little less crowded so I headed down. Needless to say all the stools at the downstairs bar were occupied but suddenly it didn't really matter anymore because I realized that my fantasy had already kicked in. There, sitting on the end barstool was the head of long honey blonde hair, the slim torso and full round ass belonging to the girl in my fantasy. The two things I couldn't tell from my fantasy that I could see before me were her angelic face and bodacious tits. I, once again, knew I'd shortly be looking down at my rock hard cock ravaging her star shaped anus.
I walked up to her and said, "You don't look nearly inebriated enough to rate that bar stool. I, on the other hand, am well on my way to being comatose."
She Kumluca Escort (https://www.pompaci.net/antalya/kumluca) gave me a curious look as if she were studying me. After about eight seconds she shrugged and bounced off the stool. As I sat down she said, "I needed an excuse to move my ass and get out of here anyway. I haven't seen the bartender for about twenty minutes." She collected her purse and sweater and turned to leave saying, "You be careful, now."
I replied, "You'd better put your things back down since you've already seen I'm too drunk to go behind the bar and get myself a shot from that Patron bottle on the second shelf. Since you're already going back there I'll buy you one, too."
The curious look reappeared. She took her time looking me over but concentrating on whatever she thought she could read in my eyes. She put her sweater and bag back on the bar and said, "It's a party Bozo, the drinks are free."
"Bozo? Bozo? If I'm going to be Bozo in this fledgling relationship then I've gotta give you a nickname too."
She fought her way between standing bodies and made it behind the bar. During her struggles I realized that those huge titties were braless, a fact used by several guys to impede her progress to the Patron bottle. She left wide smiles and grins in her wake. She filled two glasses with the fiery liquid and assumed the leaning bartender's position in front of me saying, "I started this evening drinking Kettle One. I suppose I shouldn't be mixing these but WTF."
I didn't respond since I was completely absorbed staring at the tits laying on the bar before me.
She asked, "Have you decided yet?" I said nothing but soon realized a response was called for. I looked up at her trying to think of something to say. Finally she said, "about my new nickname? You were going to come up with one?"
The Patron seemed to be playing tricks on me so I just said the only thing I could think of, "Tits?"
She chuckled, "So in years to come when they write the Russian novel lengthed book about us there'll be a line about Sigma House being where Bozo first met Tits." She put her hand on her things. "I really should be leaving but will Bozo be able to get home?"
"Probably not without Tits help. Could you be my icebreaker through the crowd?"
She sighed, "Come on, Bozo, lean on me and I'll help you out of here."
I rested my left palm on her shoulder and let her lead me. As we were crossing the main sitting room she asked me, "I understand the left hand supporting yourself on my shoulder but you do realize that your right hand is now clutching my breast, right?"
I was still stupefied so I didn't respond. She removed my hand. "Let's not advertise your impending embarrassment at attempting to nail probably the only virgin in the room, okay?"
That word made it through to my subconscious. "V... virgin?"
"Oh so that's what it took to pierce the fog you're in, huh?" We made it outside and the cold made me vaguely aware of the fact that I'd left my jacket in the frat house.
Tits asked me, "So Bozo, where do you live?"
"Cold."
"I know you're cold and I'll try to get you warmer but first I need to know where you live. Where's home Bozo?"
Actually, my head was starting to clear in the cold night air but playing along with this drunken Q
I'm not saying anything bad about the sometimes beautiful members of the second group. I'm sure that the type of girl I'd probably end up marrying someday was probably in that group but as I said, at that point in time I wasn't into projects.
On that particular Friday night I was pretty sure I was going to get laid. In fact since there were two parties that night, one a frat party at the Sig house and the other an exercise in hard beer chugging in the basement level at Harrison Hall, I was quite certain I'd wind up with a 'three holer', a girl who'd be willing to accept my cock in all of her three orifices. The more the deck was stacked in my favor with a multitude of targets the more demanding I became in my pursuit of sexual satisfaction.
I was enjoying my second Gran Patron Platinum at Casey's, the bar closest to the campus, planning out my evening which, I was sure, would culminate in my driving my cock into some freshman girl's inexperienced anus. Somehow I couldn't imagine anything more clearly that staring at this head of long hair (I didn't much care about the color but in my mind this one was a honey blonde) attached to a sleek back without an ounce of fat and culminating in the full round twin globes my hands had a tight grip on. I spread those cheeks and spit on her star shaped target. It was at this point in my fantasy that the girl would say something totally forgettable like "Please don't... not my ass!" or "Go slowly it's my first time." Whatever she said would always make me smile as I jammed my hard cock as quickly and as deeply into her as I could.
I planned to finish my tequila at Casey's and head to the Sig house to test the waters. The girls were probably more sober earlier in the evening and although many cherries had been hoisted up the house' second floor flagpole the atmosphere was generally less intimidating to inexperienced ladies than the brawl at Harrison Hall. In the unlikely event that I struck out at the frat I could always use the brawl as my fall back. The girls would not only be more shitfaced but as it would be later in the evening they'd be a lot more desperate to avoid going back to their dorms alone. It was always at this point in the evening when you'd see the most missing tops on the various women both on and off the dance floor.
Just as I was about to rise and pay my check my catcher and two of the outfielders from my team stumbled in, saw me and loudly greeted me. Since I had to buy my catcher a tequila I just went ahead and ordered four.
I could see immediately that they were all several drinks ahead of me. Pat, the center fielder, threw his arm around my shoulder and blasted, "Boy it's a good think that we're too drunk to drive because the cops are out in force to-night. Word is they've already handed out three DUIs and carted one poor sucker off to spend the night in a cell."
I had to ask, "If the cops are out then why is it so good that you're shitfaced?"
He started laughing, "Because we're not driving!"
By the time I left they had each sprung for 'another round' and I discovered I couldn't walk the straightest of lines either but I stuck to my plan and headed on to the Sig house.
The place was packed! I couldn't remember being in such a target rich environment since I was a freshman three years before. I also couldn't remember being this loaded what with the ocean of Patron floating around in me. The place was crowded to the point of being uncomfortable as I drunkenly weaved through the mass of mostly female flesh on the dance floor.
Usually the game room downstairs was a little less crowded so I headed down. Needless to say all the stools at the downstairs bar were occupied but suddenly it didn't really matter anymore because I realized that my fantasy had already kicked in. There, sitting on the end barstool was the head of long honey blonde hair, the slim torso and full round ass belonging to the girl in my fantasy. The two things I couldn't tell from my fantasy that I could see before me were her angelic face and bodacious tits. I, once again, knew I'd shortly be looking down at my rock hard cock ravaging her star shaped anus.
I walked up to her and said, "You don't look nearly inebriated enough to rate that bar stool. I, on the other hand, am well on my way to being comatose."
She Kumluca Escort (https://www.pompaci.net/antalya/kumluca) gave me a curious look as if she were studying me. After about eight seconds she shrugged and bounced off the stool. As I sat down she said, "I needed an excuse to move my ass and get out of here anyway. I haven't seen the bartender for about twenty minutes." She collected her purse and sweater and turned to leave saying, "You be careful, now."
I replied, "You'd better put your things back down since you've already seen I'm too drunk to go behind the bar and get myself a shot from that Patron bottle on the second shelf. Since you're already going back there I'll buy you one, too."
The curious look reappeared. She took her time looking me over but concentrating on whatever she thought she could read in my eyes. She put her sweater and bag back on the bar and said, "It's a party Bozo, the drinks are free."
"Bozo? Bozo? If I'm going to be Bozo in this fledgling relationship then I've gotta give you a nickname too."
She fought her way between standing bodies and made it behind the bar. During her struggles I realized that those huge titties were braless, a fact used by several guys to impede her progress to the Patron bottle. She left wide smiles and grins in her wake. She filled two glasses with the fiery liquid and assumed the leaning bartender's position in front of me saying, "I started this evening drinking Kettle One. I suppose I shouldn't be mixing these but WTF."
I didn't respond since I was completely absorbed staring at the tits laying on the bar before me.
She asked, "Have you decided yet?" I said nothing but soon realized a response was called for. I looked up at her trying to think of something to say. Finally she said, "about my new nickname? You were going to come up with one?"
The Patron seemed to be playing tricks on me so I just said the only thing I could think of, "Tits?"
She chuckled, "So in years to come when they write the Russian novel lengthed book about us there'll be a line about Sigma House being where Bozo first met Tits." She put her hand on her things. "I really should be leaving but will Bozo be able to get home?"
"Probably not without Tits help. Could you be my icebreaker through the crowd?"
She sighed, "Come on, Bozo, lean on me and I'll help you out of here."
I rested my left palm on her shoulder and let her lead me. As we were crossing the main sitting room she asked me, "I understand the left hand supporting yourself on my shoulder but you do realize that your right hand is now clutching my breast, right?"
I was still stupefied so I didn't respond. She removed my hand. "Let's not advertise your impending embarrassment at attempting to nail probably the only virgin in the room, okay?"
That word made it through to my subconscious. "V... virgin?"
"Oh so that's what it took to pierce the fog you're in, huh?" We made it outside and the cold made me vaguely aware of the fact that I'd left my jacket in the frat house.
Tits asked me, "So Bozo, where do you live?"
"Cold."
"I know you're cold and I'll try to get you warmer but first I need to know where you live. Where's home Bozo?"
Actually, my head was starting to clear in the cold night air but playing along with this drunken Q