Chapter 8: Unexpected l

-- NOVEMBER 2005, THANKSGIVING BREAK --

I felt something tickle my balls, and with a start, I jerked awake.

"Mmph!" somebody groaned, and as I sat up, I realized I'd just shoved my dick an inch into a girl's throat. She took it like a trouper, gagging only slightly and keeping her head down, breathing heavily through her nose until I pulled back. And then she resumed rhythmically pumping my shaft in her hands and sucking on the mushroom head as if I'd never interrupted her.

Now as you know, this sort of thing has happened to me a time or two. So I wasn't particularly shocked, even if I wasn't expecting to wake up at this time in quite this manner. Perhaps I should have expected it though. After all, there were four different women under this roof who could all accomplish the same feat.

Well, five, if you count Deanna.

My dick lurched, but I squeezed my eyelids shut and tried not to think too hard about that one.

I was still quite tired. Being the one real cock for Dayna, Brandi, DJ, and Brooke had been quite the workout, and while getting dosed with Viagra may have assisted my erectile function last night, it wasn't helping me now. I hadn't been kidding about that Pamplona bull thing, and my balls were still sore from such extreme use. Despite the pleasure coming from the warm, wet mouth surrounding my shaft, I really wouldn't mind drifting off back to sleep.

I knew that wasn't actually going to happen, but I was content to remain motionless for now and let my mystery fellatrix do her thing. Sighing dreamily, I extended my arms above my head, until my hands were resting against the headboard. And I let my idle mind wonder about the identity of this morning's alarm clock.

It really didn't take long to figure out. I could immediately cross Brooke and DJ off the list, since their blowjobs were as familiar to me as the back of my hand. Not that I've actually memorized the back of my hand, but if put into a photographic lineup with other hands from other people, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to figure out which was mine rather easily. So it was with my blowjob artiste. There wasn't anything specific about her technique that informed her identity, but by process of elimination I was able to deduce that my older sister had come to pick up where she'd left off last night.

"Ohhh, Brandi..." I moaned as she hit a particularly nice spot. My hips rolled forward to cram an extra half-inch into her throat and my arm dropped so I could hold the back of her head and keep her down on me for just a second longer. But then I let her head go and slowly picked my head up, finally cracking open my crusted eyelids and verifying visually that indeed, it was my older sister looking back at me with a smile around nearly eight inches of cock imbedded in her esophagus.

Her nostrils flared as she struggled to breathe, and then she pulled back and popped off with a wide grin. I glanced to my left to find DJ still asleep, and we tried not to bother her as Brandi kissed her way up my still-naked body, straddled my hips, and then guided my prick into her buttery box.

I was still tired and sore, and my prick was a little sensitive. But this was Brandi, and I didn't know when I'd be able to do this again. So despite the aches I went along with it. I raised my hands once again, working on autopilot to caress and tweak and stimulate my sister for her maximum pleasure while she rocked and undulated atop me. And I was rewarded by her moans of contentment and cute little whimpers, obviously enjoying herself and just as obviously not caring one whit that we're siblings and not supposed to be doing this, at least for now.

Although we were making some effort not to wake DJ, the gentle rolling of the bed eventually roused my girlfriend, who cracked open her eyes, smiled sleepily at us, and reached a hand out to caress Brandi's well-toned thigh.

"What time is it?" DJ asked softly, her eyes closing once more.

Brandi whipped her baggy T-shirt over her head, non-verbally inviting me to play with her breasts, and replied, "It's almost 10am. We've slept in."

DJ nodded sleepily before suddenly jerking upright, her eyes open wide. "Almost 10? Weren't we supposed to go Black Friday shopping this morning?!?"

Still fucking me, Brandi panted and gave her a nod. "Your parents are already gone. But it's not the end of the world. Tell the truth, I'd rather be Right. Here." She humped herself down rather deliberately and rather hard with those last two words, almost knocking the wind out of me but getting my cock particularly deep as well.

"Yeah, but I wanted to get some shopping in!" DJ complained, rolling out of bed and scampering naked over to her dresser to climb into some underwear. "Doorbusters will all be gone and a lot of the other deals end at noon!"

"We. Still. Got. Time," Brandi chanted while rising and falling on me with increased force. "Fuck. Me. Big. Brother. Fuck. Me!"

I was fucking her now, awake enough to grasp her hips and yank her down to meet my upward thrusts. I didn't care a lick about Black Friday, but I certainly cared about Brandi's and my next orgasms. Overcome with the pleasure, my sister dropped her chest down onto mine, burying her face in the pillow and moaning while I began jackhammering myself into her from below. My hands glided down her perfect buttcheeks, gripping them for leverage. And very quickly, I brought my big sister off to a noisy climax.

Brandi went limp after that, which wasn't really helpful for my own impending eruption. Trapping her legs with my own, I rolled us over to the side of the bed DJ had just vacated, and without dislodging my prick I flung my sister's legs over my shoulders and started piledriving her into the mattress. Brandi's head tossed left and right while I fucked the shit out of her, concentrating on getting my own. But despite my lack of focus on her, she was getting into it just fine, screaming out, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Sperm me, little brother! Fucking CUM inside me!"

Three strokes later, I did just that, and the internal sensation of my hot jizz splattering against her insides set Brandi off to another orgasm. We thrashed and bucked on the bed, our bodies quaking out our climaxes, until finally I collapsed into a lump of dead weight on top of her, mingled jism oozing out from around the not-quite-watertight seal of my dick in my sister's cunt.

Last night, nobody came after the creampie. But this morning, the instant I rolled off my sister, DJ pulled Brandi's hips around and spread her legs so she could kneel and slurp out her boyfriend's spending. She was fully-dressed, in spray-painted jeans with a tight polo and Argyle vest that showed off her assets, so it was an interesting contrast to see clothed blonde DJ climb up naked brunette Brandi's body and extend a tongue downward to feed her brother's sperm to the hungry older girl.

The sight was pleasant enough that I almost dragged DJ's jeans off and porked her from behind.

Almost.

But I didn't. I needed the rest, and my girlfriend wanted to shop. I lay back and recovered while DJ finished up and then skipped off to the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup. And after scooping up brother-cum that had leaked onto her cheeks during the snowball with DJ, Brandi popped her fingers into her mouth while grinning at me, stood up, and then sashayed out the door back to Dayna's room.

Girlish giggles and erotic moans returned back through the open doors, and curious, I got up and padded down the hallway after her. Peeking inside Dayna's bedroom, I found the eldest Evans girl wearing a strap-on and pounding Brooke doggy-style while buzzing a thin vibrator in and out of my little sister's ass.

Just another day in my life, right?

Wanting to show off my new Project Ben culinary skills for Brandi and Dayna, I jumped into my pajama pants and then hustled downstairs to start breakfast. It was a good thing too, since the girls really DID want to get to those Black Friday deals before noon. Unfortunately, they were in too much of a hurry to really savor the flavors I'd worked hard to put into the french toast, but I did get a peck on the cheek from each of them before they all piled into Dayna's car and drove off to the mall without me.

This was the plan, of course. The LAST place I wanted to be was a busy mall on Black Friday. I was under strict orders to rest and recuperate, because the girls weren't done fucking me yet. And the way the next three days were looking, I would need all the rest I could get.

The holiday weekend was a wild one, filled with sex in all kinds of permutations and combinations. There were threesomes, foursomes, and even a fivesome (which is a lot more logistically-complicated than erotic, really). Dayna and DJ replicated the four-boobs-around-one-dick titfuck that Dayna and Amber had introduced to me, although there apparently IS such thing as too much boobage to quite fit into a confined area. And I spent the better part of the holiday weekend tired, exhausted, and dehydrated, except for whenever the fucking got underway. Then, my sexual reserves activated or something and I was magically transformed into Big Ben, Sex God.

This is not a bad thing. The logistical complications of four women trying to fuck you at the same time and suffering from Too Much Boobage™ are problems other men would kill for. And as it was all happening to me, I decided that they were problems I could live with.

Brandi continued her weekend that 'didn't count', fucking or sucking me every chance we got. I learned that it was indeed her ass I'd pounded while blindfolded last night, and she wanted me to do it again. I obliged, moaning about how perfect my sister's ass was while she reminded me that I was still the only man she'd ever let up her backdoor.

I also got up Dayna's tailpipe immediately after. I still hadn't forgotten my very first assfuck, at camp so many years ago. And even though I'd attributed to that memory such perfection as to be impossible to live up to, well, doing it again pretty much lived up to the memory.

The elder sisters also continued their explorations with the opposite little sisters. I lost count of the number of times Dayna fucked Brooke with a strap-on and vice versa. And whenever my girlfriend was out of my sight, she was invariably in a room with Brandi, munching rug and making out. Both pairings spent more time with each other than DJ spent with me, but I didn't mind. DJ and I would have plenty of time together once we returned to school. Being in this house with Dayna and Brandi was a special occasion, and we all wanted to make the most of it.

Although I did leave the house on Friday afternoon to do a little shopping of my own, just a run to Target to stock up on cheap DVDs, we collectively stayed holed up and having sex for most of the weekend. I had carte blanche to seize any girl and stick it into any hole any time I had an erection, and I pretty much did just that. Sometimes that meant grabbing a girl, bending her over, and dragging her into a bedroom. Sometimes that meant a girl grabbing ME and dragging me into a bedroom (Brandi, most often). But as Friday turned into Saturday and Saturday turned into Sunday, we started to get lazy about keeping things private, and I started just porking the girls wherever I happened to come across them, whether it be the hallway, the stairway, or even the kitchen.

Those out of doors activities were at least restricted to periods when the parentals were out of the house or in their bedroom late at night. But even when Jack and Deanna WERE around, the girls were getting careless about keeping our activities concealed.

There was the time DJ started jacking my cock under the table during Saturday's lunch, which Deanna eventually figured out and had to shoot DJ a glance to knock it off.

And there was the time I was fucking Brandi on the couch while DJ and Brooke sixty-nined on the floor beside us and the front door opened. We all scrambled to get covered up by the time Jack and Deanna walked in, but probably weren't 100% successful. Both parents got an eyeful, I'm sure, before they turned back the way they came and gave us a couple of minutes to fix our clothing. It wasn't that they didn't know what was going on, but we were pretty sure they didn't want it thrown in their faces.

At least, I was pretty sure, and so was DJ. Brooke was a little more blasé about it. "What? I don't mind if your Dad catches me naked. He's kinda hot for an old guy."

"What? Ew!" DJ spat.

"'Ew', really?" Dayna. "You mean you've never thought about it? Boinking Dad?"

"What? No!" DJ was scandalized. "Why, have you?"

Dayna shrugged. "Sometimes. And don't tell me you haven't checked out my mom's rack from time to time, Ben."

I blushed. Deanna Evans was just as well-endowed as her daughters, and when puppies that big and firm are put on display, it sort of doesn't matter whose body they're attached to. I agreed, but only to a point. "Fine, but there's a difference between checking out a pair of boobs and thinking about banging your Mom. There's something about it that just isn't ... right."

"THANK you!" DJ exclaimed before staring down her sister. "They're our parents!"

"And we're your sisters," Dayna argued. "Lines have already been crossed."

"No, thank you." DJ immediately replied with her hands making short, horizontal chopping motions apart, and Brandi nodded her agreement after a moment's thought.

But that night, while the entire family gathered to watch a movie together, Dayna came downstairs after her shower wearing nothing but a bathrobe and wasn't too careful about closing the front all the way. I knew my eyes kept drifting over to her as she curled in an armchair and watched the movie, idly running her fingers along the bathrobe's trim just over her breasts, as if she would pull it open at any moment. And if my eyes kept drifting over, well ... I studied Jack Evans for a little bit, and yep, sure enough HIS eyes kept drifting over. But that was as far as it got before Deanna told her daughter to either put on some real pajamas or put on some underwear beneath the bathrobe.

She came back braless and wearing a cropped PJ top that may have fit her when she was fourteen. Now, it was about two sizes too small, molding rather skintight around the shape of her 36DDs, and the matching boyshorts weren't any looser. Deanna sighed, waited for the movie to end, and then dragged her husband upstairs. Loud grunting and rhythmic headboard-banging soon emanated from behind the closed door, and Dayna asked us to take bets on whether or not her dad was fantasizing about fucking HER.

Nobody took the bet.

But all good things must come to an end. Sunday arrived, and it would soon be time for all us kids to go home. But we didn't leave without a bang (literally). And when Deanna sensed what was about to happen, she took her husband out of the house lest the young women of the house completely lose their inhibitions in front of him.

We said our goodbyes, since the Evanses were going off to visit friends and wouldn't return until after we'd left for our homes in San Francisco and Berkeley. Brandi, Brooke, and I thanked them for their hospitality, and then we all waved from the front door as they turned and drove up the street.

The girls closed the front door. They turned to me.

And then they pounced.

-- NOVEMBER 2005, SENIOR YEAR --

"Hey there, stranger," Bert greeted me with a fist bump as we met up at our usual intersection, and then fell into step alongside me as we trudged up the hill. "How was your weekend?"

I groaned and shook my head. "You don't wanna know."

Bert nodded and then glanced back, finding that his usual walking pace had already put him several feet in front of me. "You okay? You're movin' kinda slow."

"Feel like my balls got kicked by a bull."

"Not that you actually got kicked by a bull or anything."

"No."

"More like: your testicles were severely overworked through extreme sexual demand the likes of which would explode my puny little mind."

"Yes."

"Fair enough. I won't ask, except for one question Lynne and I have been wondering about ever since you left after the Pre-Thanksgiving party."

"What's that?"

"Did you or did you not hook up with Sasha?"

I stopped in my tracks, my grimacing face giving the answer away already.

"Thought so," Bert commented before clarifying, "Well, Lynne thought so. Honestly, I was so blitzed I don't remember the circumstances of your departure. But she said Sasha walked out that door with you looking like she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer."

"Huh..." I stewed on that, wondering for the umpteenth time how it was so easy for girls to pick up on those vibes and meaningful looks while I was still just a dense, blockhead guy. At least Bert hadn't noticed without Lynne telling him so.

"So what now? Everything goes back to the way it was between you two? Or do I need to find myself a new Xbox partner because you're gonna be spending all your breaks between classes boinking Miss Brunette Bigtits?"

"I'm not gonna..." I began before pausing to think about it. Sasha and I hadn't actually discussed what would happen when we returned to school, and even though our encounter had been more than four days ago, I'd been so occupied since then that I hadn't really had a chance to think about it.

I told Bert that I hadn't figured that out yet, and he gave me a shrug.

"Well, figure it out fast," he warned. "She's gonna meet us for lunch after class, which means you've got about ... an hour."

Unfortunately, the intervening hour before our rendezvous for lunch was occupied by class, and a class I actually needed to pay attention to. So I didn't have much time to dwell on the Sasha issue, which was probably for the best, lest I analyze and overanalyze things for the entire time.

When class ended, I hoisted my bag over a shoulder and got up, ready to leave. But Bert was texting or something on his phone, and I had to whistle to get his attention. "Hey, we eating or what?"

"Uh. You know. Something's come up. I gotta meet up with ... uh ... somebody..." Bert stammered, looking sheepish. "So ... I'll see you later, alright?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Lynne come to campus and text you for a quickie?"

A girl behind me gasped and looked at us, wide-eyed, for a moment before hustling out the door. Bert rolled his eyes as she left before deadpanning, "Yes. That's exactly it."

I looked at him curiously as he finally got up and led the way outside. I followed after, still wondering what he was hiding from me, but I suddenly had no more time to wonder as a vision of beauty stepped around the corner and sashayed in our direction.

You could hear conversations stop all around us as people, both guys and girls, paused to gawk at the gorgeous young woman strutting confidently down the hall. She wore spray-painted jeans tucked into stylishly short black boots with three-inch heels. A brown belt more decorative than functional hung at a slant across her waist and shapely hips. And clinging to her torso was an emerald green blouse made of a satiny fabric that shimmered in the fluorescent overhead lights.

While perhaps baggy jeans and Cal Berkeley hoodies were a little more commonplace, the outfit wasn't so different from what many other girls wore around the campus. Also, she wore a nice knee-length dark brown peacoat over the top as well, so it wasn't like the young lady in question was dressed in a way that was particularly revealing. What was more surprising was WHO was dressed in such a manner, not to mention that several buttons of the green blouse were undone, exposing quite the expanse of milky white cleavage formed by breasts I knew intimately to be very full and firm D-cups.

Sasha Serafian NEVER dressed like this on-campus, and most everybody in Cheit Hall knew it. We'd also never seen her hair pinned in a stylish up-do, showing off the gracefulness of her neck and highlighting her dangly earrings. Expertly-applied makeup accentuated her beauty, not minimized it. And so for the very first time for many of our classmates, one could really see just how beautiful a woman she could be.

The hallway went silent in my immediate vicinity as my project teammate came to a stop right in front of me, smiling to watch my eyes do that yo-yo thing I couldn't help. Ten feet behind her, whispered comments started up as people didn't make much effort to be inconspicuous.

"Hey Ben. What's for lunch today?" she asked sweetly, as if we didn't have a couple dozen people staring right at us.

"Uh, we hadn't decided just yet," I managed to reply after false-starting just once. "Bert?"

Blushing, he waved his phone at me and then jerked a thumb down the hall. "Uh, I'm not coming today. That ... thing ... with ... that person? Remember?"

I sighed and shot him a look. "Bert, spit it out."

Bert turned a little pinker before taking a deep breath. Showing me the phone again, he explained, "It's from Kim. She saw how Sasha was dressed this morning and she told me to get the hell out of the way. You two clearly need to talk. So ... bye!" He shot me a goofy grin, spun on his heel, and practically ran away.

I watched him go, and then with another resigned sigh I swiveled my gaze back to Sasha, waiting patiently and smirking as she noticed just how many people were still gawking at us. "Find someplace a little more private?" I offered. A couple of girls to my left tittered at that.

Sasha grinned and took my arm with both of her hands. "Let's go."

Although I was pretty hungry, this wasn't a conversation I wanted to have anywhere near other people. So instead of taking Sasha to a restaurant or anything, we swung by the deli and picked up food to go before strolling back to my house. We chatted along the way about nothing consequential, mostly me asking how her holidays went and her explaining about staying in on Thanksgiving Day to clean house and organize mail and then going Black Friday shopping before catching a movie with Marisa and some other stripper friends. As usual, she worked all of the weekend evenings, and then it was back to school.

When she asked me about my weekend, I told her I'd spent the entire time at my girlfriend's house, and she didn't ask me anything more about that.

Eventually, we made it to my house and had lunch at the dining table. Still, the conversation topics remained casual, at least until the tail end of the meal when I finally asked, "So what's up with the designer threads? Showing off your Black Friday deals?"

By now the heater had kicked in and Sasha had removed her peacoat. It was hanging on the chair beside her, and she reached over to tap it. "This one was 70% off," she explained. "The rest is stuff I already had in my closet."

"In your closet? I've known you for a while now, and I've never seen you wear those clothes."

She shrugged. "Weekend wear, as opposed to my standard issue Cal hoodie and baggy pants student kit."

"Today's not a weekend."

"Today is my first day seeing you again since you completely rocked my world and lived up to everything I fantasized about for my Big Ben Experience." As she said this, Sasha sat up straight, leaned forward slightly, and stared so intensely right into my eyes that I could have sworn her dark brown eyes were literally smoldering.

I paused mid-chew, feeling that deer-in-the-headlights sensation again. But after a moment, I let myself remember all the things we'd done in her apartment that night, and smiling at the memory, I shrugged and replied, "I had a good time, too."

I was seated at the head of the table, with Sasha in the chair immediately to my right. She reached her hand out and covered mine, rubbing the back of it for a moment before flicking her eyes back up to me. "Did you get a chance to talk to DJ about us?"

"I didn't hide anything from her, if that's what you mean."

She shook her head in the negative. "I meant ... in the morning, I asked you if we were just a one-time thing. You said that was up to your girlfriend."

I pursed my lips and thought about it. All of the discussion about Sasha had taken place Thanksgiving Day, when Brooke and DJ had pulled me into DJ's bedroom to get their "details". I'd given them the cliff notes of our sexual encounter, but we hadn't talked about the future. As far as I understood it, the "Green List" still only included Brooke, Paige, and Kim. And while I'd gotten the distinct impression from DJ that she wouldn't mind me hooking up with Sasha again in the future, I knew that communication would be essential to the survival of our relationship, and the last thing I wanted to do was make an assumption that might turn out to be wrong.

Of course, I could solve that little problem with a phone call. It was DJ's lunch hour too, and although she'd be hanging out with her friends at this time, she would be able to pick up her phone and give me a "go/no go" easily enough.

But although I'd said so on Thursday, it wasn't just up to my girlfriend. There were two other people involved in any decision for me and Sasha to continue a more-than-friends relationship, and those two people were me and her.

Sasha was making her decision clear. I could sometimes be as dense as a rock when it came to female signals, but that wasn't an issue right now. Sasha had dressed to impress, and was holding my hand, breathing heavily, and giving me quite serious bedroom eyes. We were alone in my house, with all the opportunity in the world, and she was quite ready to take advantage of it.

But there was still MY decision to make. And though one might think any guy would readily accept the proposition of great sex with a beautiful, busty brunette, my decision-making process had moved beyond what the penis wants. Getting laid wasn't my problem. Getting laid without dealing with all the headaches of interpersonal relationships? THAT was my goal.

"Sasha..." I began with a sigh. "I don't know if this is such a good idea."

She pouted. "Why not?"

"You ... me ... we're friends, right?"

"But we could be more, couldn't we?"

"More? We've talked before about a relationship between you and me, and that was even before I had a girlfriend."

"I know. And we agreed that it wouldn't be a good idea for you and me to get together. But I don't want a relationship, and as for your girlfriend, I'm not going to try and steal you away from her."

"I'm not worth it?"

"You trying to flatter yourself?" She gave me a crooked grin, to which I shrugged. Shaking her head, she explained, "Honestly, I think you're more trouble than you're worth as boyfriend material."

"Gee, thanks."

"I like you; you know that. I know I could even develop feelings for you. But you've got gorgeous women simply throwing themselves at you all the time, and I'm not going to try and compete with that. I think you're a great, great guy. You're an attentive listener, and I feel deep down in my gut that I can really trust you. That's unique. That's special. But I would never try and tie you down into a relationship; I just don't think it'd be possible. And besides, I can tell how much you care about DJ. I really don't want to mess with that; there's just no WAY I could ever be the 'other woman' that makes a man cheat on his girlfriend. So if she's not okay with you and me doing stuff, then it's not going to happen. But I think she IS okay, and well, that's kind of my point. If -I- were your girlfriend I don't think I could be so free with your sexual activities. For her to allow you that freedom is pretty special, but it's also something I wouldn't be able to give you as easily. So I don't want to make an emotional investment and develop the kind of possessive expectation of fidelity from you that I know would only result in me getting my heart broken."

I shrugged. "That's just it: I don't want to break your heart."

"It won't get broken, because I'm not your girl. And I'm not going to try to be."

"But you still want to have sex with me."

"Are you kidding? Wednesday night was the best experience of my LIFE! Yes! YES I want more!" She hopped up and down in her chair, giggling with a wide grin.

But instead of smiling with her, I took a deep breath.

Sasha immediately stopped bouncing and screwed up her face. "Oh, so that's it? You got to add me as a notch on your bed post and you're done with me?"

"What? No!" I protested, but felt my defensiveness fade at the knowing smirk on Sasha's face.

"I'm just messing with you," she cracked with a grin. "That's the reputation you have: just racking up kills. But I know you, and I don't believe you're that kind of guy ... Or are you? Are you really just gonna fuck me the one time and then never let me have an encore?"

"Sasha..."

"Please, Mr. Big Ben? I'm begging you. You're only the second guy I've ever had. I'm practically a virgin. I spent my whole life not really understanding why people were sooo obsessed with sex. The tease? The seduction? I understood that thrill; it's why I can actually enjoy being a dancer. But physical sex? Well, Rod gave me an orgasm here and there, and I really did enjoy playing around with some of the other dancers from the club, but I'd never felt ANYTHING like what you did to me, and I HAVE to feel like that at least once more in my life! If your girlfriend will let you, can you please rock my world again? And again? And again-again-again?" She leaned forward while sliding both hands along the open vee of her blouse, bringing her fingers together to open up just one more button and reveal an extra couple of inches of mouth-watering cleavage, along with the black lace of her bra.

"Sasha..."

"You know, I remember quite vividly what Chevelle told me about that time you met her outside her house a couple of months ago, just before school started. She told me about how she didn't mind taking it up the ass, knowing how much her boyfriends might enjoy it, but that it really wasn't a pleasure thing for her. It was more of a mental high, but she'd never orgasmed from anal sex, not until YOU did it to her. Now -I-, on the other hand, get such a delicious thrill from anal play; it's why I love that little vibrating egg. But Rod never did it. Thought it might mean he was gay the one time I brought it up. Marisa's played around with it, and she's even had her fingers in me. But you see, I've never had a dick up my ass, and I thought you might enjoy being the first."

My jaw was on the table, and come to think of it, so was my cock. No, my penis hadn't magically appeared atop the dining table, but the erection that had formed in my pants was big enough and trapped at just the right angle to actually bump the table from below.

Sasha squeezed my hand encouragingly and flashed me a perfect smile. "Call DJ. Tell her I want you to be my first. And then ... let's see what happens, okay?"

I got my phone out.

"Holy SHIT!"

Sasha's exclamation was apropos, given what I'd just done to her. Not that she'd been expecting it or anything. Well, she sorta HAD to have been expecting it, given that it was the very thing she'd asked for. But she certainly wasn't expecting it at that very moment, at least it didn't seem like it from the way she'd thrown her head back and screamed her exclamation.

I'm not making total sense. Let me try again: THAT was the moment when I shoved my dick through Sasha's winking anus. She had to have been expecting it, since she'd initiated this particular sexual encounter with the express purpose of losing her anal virginity. But she hadn't been expecting the penetration at that exact moment because she was still busy screaming her orgasm into DJ's pussy.

Oh, I didn't explain about DJ, did I?

See, I'd made the phone call as Sasha requested, right there at the dining table after we'd finished our lunch. As expected, DJ was having lunch with her friends on campus, in-between classes, so she was more or less free to take my call. I explained the situation, including Sasha's request for me to be the first man to invade her asshole, and to both my and Sasha's surprise, my girlfriend gave me an emphatic 'no'.

But it wasn't a 'no', no. It was more of a 'not yet' kind of no. And it was even sort of a conditional 'yes'. See, my girlfriend reacted in a way that I probably should have expected, given my past history with girlfriends and the way they reacted to such offers from other beautiful young women. But I hadn't expected it, and so I was rather surprised when DJ's answer was more of a 'Yes, you can, but only if I can come and join you.'

Knowing that DJ had a 1pm class, and that Sasha and I had classes later in the afternoon, I'd asked my girlfriend if she wanted to arrange things for tonight or some other time. Monday nights were Krav Maga nights, and after getting beaten to a pulp I wasn't usually the best participant for a threesome, at least not for a first time encounter like this. But I told DJ I'd skip tonight's class if she wanted.

DJ told me not to bother, and that she was already on her way home. I'd reminded her about her 1pm class, but she was only too happy to blow it off for something like this. And she told me, unequivocally, to go ahead and get started before she arrived.

My surprise evident on my face, Sasha had asked what DJ had said. Without thinking about it, I repeated my girlfriend's orders to "go ahead". And Sasha took my words literally, yanking my chair back from the table, dropping to her knees, and swiftly unzipping my cargo pants.

At my sharp inhalation, DJ had asked what was going on, and I admitted that Sasha was on her knees giving me a blowjob. My girlfriend laughed, told me she'd be home soon, and then kissed her phone wetly before saying "I love you" and hanging up.

A few minutes later, I'd managed to NOT bust a nut into Sasha's mouth, saving it for later as I got us both upstairs. I rather enjoyed peeling my project teammate out of that elegantly beautiful outfit she'd worn just for me. Figuring I didn't need to be in any rush while my girlfriend made her way home, I explored every nook and cranny of Sasha's body, committing her trigger spots to memory and taking the time I'd been too anxious to take the last time I was able to strip this gorgeous girl naked. I savored the taste of her nipples. I delighted to hear her giggles and moans as I manipulated her senses rather playfully. And only when she had a fine sheen of aroused sweat covering the entirety of her milky white skin did I finally settle between her thighs and extend my tongue deep inside her honeypot.

I'd just given Sasha her first climax of the afternoon when DJ arrived, entering so silently that neither I nor the naked girl on my bed noticed. I only found out when my girlfriend tapped my shoulder and gestured for me to back out of the way. I continued fingering the brunette while DJ, fully-clothed, took my place between Sasha's wide-spread legs. And only after DJ began to find out whether or not Sasha's pussy tasted as sweet as she believed it would did I pull my fingers out and walk them up the brunette's body before gliding my honey-coated lips over Sasha's and then giving her a deep, passion-filled kiss.

I'd never told Sasha that DJ was coming home. All she heard was the "go ahead" instruction. So you can understand how violently she jerked in surprise when I kissed her while she still felt someone's tongue sliding up her snatch.

Sasha's surprised shriek had turned to amused laughter when DJ picked her head up and grinned. Amused laughter turned to erotic moans as she laid her head back and closed her eyes to focus on the younger girl's expert cunnilingus. And erotic moans turned to urgent pleas for me straddle her chest, fuck her tits, and shove my dick into her mouth while my girlfriend continued to eat her.

How could I pass up a request like that?

Long story short: Sasha came and squirted out a bit of honey onto DJ's face. She then licked it off while engaging in a torrid makeout session with my girlfriend, all while simultaneously stripping my blonde girlfriend of her school clothes. And then the two girls rolled naked around my bed, kissing and groping and fingerbanging with wild abandon.

Sasha insisted on returning the favor, and DJ wasn't exactly difficult to convince. Sasha dropped flat on her back with DJ kneeling over her face. At first, DJ bent over to complete the sixty-nine, but Sasha insisted that this was just for her, so DJ sat up and then beckoned for me to approach them.

I spent a long time standing atop the mattress, thrusting gently while my girlfriend fucked me with her Double-Ds. There's something so carnally powerful about watching a gorgeous girl using her own hands to squeeze her big tits around your cock, and it's even more powerful to realize she's doing it while going for a tongue-ride on another gorgeous big-titted girl. Still keeping my dick in DJ's tits, I lifted her chin and bent down to meet my loving girlfriend for a searing kiss, our tongues doing battle while she moaned from having her snatch licked and her tits fucked. But then DJ got a new idea in her head, and she set about repositioning us.

My girlfriend lay down sideway across my bed, her head hanging upside-down off the edge. She told me to throat-fuck her while our newest fuck-buddy ate her out, and I did just as ordered while squeezing DJ's Double-Ds merrily until I spewed my first load down her gullet. And then I found myself sitting upright against the headboard while one busty blonde and one busty brunette gave me a dual-blowjob to work me back up to hardness.

As much fun as it was to watch Sasha and DJ kissing each other with my cockhead between their lips, I did realize that I hadn't actually gotten to fuck a pussy or asshole yet, and I wanted to rectify that situation. DJ remembered that Sasha wanted to lose her anal cherry, and she gleefully volunteered to lube up the new girl, a process which apparently required Sasha to lie on her belly, receive DJ's fingerbanging while my girlfriend gave her a rimjob, and only then having several globs of Astroglide squirted up her rectum.

Still taking charge, DJ then reversed herself on top of the mattress and had Sasha park on all fours above her, sixty-nine style. And then ordering me onto my knees behind Sasha's ass, my girlfriend guided me into the brunette's pussy and slapped my butt like she was getting a horse to start galloping.

I galloped all right, fucking Sasha's snatch with pace and vigor with both hands on her hips for leverage while DJ extended her tongue and began lapping at the point where my cock disappeared into the brunette's box. Meanwhile, Sasha made a game attempt to return the favor, but truth be told, this was her first male-female threesome, and she kept getting too distracted by my fucking to really concentrate on DJ's cunt.

No matter, this encounter was mostly about Sasha's cherry. My girlfriend and I worked together to maximize her pleasure in anticipation of the big moment, and I don't know how she did it, but without removing herself from our threesome DJ managed to pull a vibrator from somewhere and reach up to buzz it over Sasha's rosebud star.

Sasha's reaction was immediate. She tightened up and came right then and there, screaming her surprised satisfaction.

"Where the hell did you get that?" I glanced down and exclaimed to DJ.

"Didn't you know I had it up my ass this entire time?" she replied with a smirk before taking another lick at Sasha's still quivering quim. And then in a more serious tone, she explained, "I took it out of the box when I got the lube."

Shaking my head, I grinned and focused on fucking Sasha. I slid my hands up and down her spine and along her ribs, teasing her body's nervous system up toward another orgasm. And when I judged the moment to be right, I triggered her once again, smirking as I felt the telltale sudden clamp of her inner muscles around my cock and the sound of her scream as she tossed her head back and howled in ultimate pleasure for the second time in the last two minutes.

Sometimes it's really just too easy.

I rode out Sasha's climax, feeling every squeeze and caress from her pussy muscles clenching and releasing, until at last she started to come down from her double-orgasm high as her tense body began to relax. DJ was still munching away, practically chewing on the girl's clit and sliding that vibrator into and around Sasha's anus, probing it gently and causing little butt twitches in response. But just when I felt Sasha's body go post-orgasmically limp, I knocked DJ's vibrator out of the way, swiftly exited Sasha's vaginal tunnel, and immediately brought my cockhead up to her anus. And with her body sagging into the most relaxed state humanly possible, I rammed myself through her sphincter.

"Holy SHIT!"

So that's pretty much how I took Sasha's anal cherry, and she pretty much loved it from the get go. I spent the next ten minutes pounding her ass, really cornholing the hell out of her while she screamed for me to never stop. The gorgeous, big-titted, newly de-virginated anal slut was now completely useless to DJ in terms of rug-munching, and my girlfriend managed to slip out from under her, coming alongside me to watch and run her hands over both of our naked bodies.

Giggling, DJ kissed my cheek and asked me if I was having a good time. My response was to grab her head and shove my tongue down her throat while not letting up one bit on jackhammering my cock through Sasha's back door. Eventually, we broke the kiss and my girlfriend did me the favor of reaching down to titillate Sasha's clit with her fingers, freeing me up to grab onto those perky D-cups and use them as hand holds to fuck Sasha even harder.

It's funny that Sasha specifically referenced my encounter with Chevelle a few months ago, because this encounter ended in pretty much the same way. I lost track of the number of times my lover orgasmed, but I certainly remembered the last. Sasha howled to the moon as she came one more time, and her quaking, clenching muscles drew me with her. I slammed my hips forward one final time and let loose with a fire hydrant spray of cum into her bowels. And while I pumped wave after wave of spunk through her tailpipe, Sasha collapsed facedown onto her forearms, turning one cheek to the side as she moaned, "It's true..."

And then she passed out.

I pulled back slowly, withdrawing my spent prick from Sasha's now lewdly stretched asshole. She remained where she was, propped up like a triangle with her face in the sheets and her ass up in the air, a cum bubble rising to the surface of her gaping cavity before popping. But then my attention wasn't on her anymore.

See, DJ was two feet away, copying the exact same position. The tube of Astroglide was abandoned next to her knee, and even now she was pulling two lube-coated fingers out of her own dilated anus.

From her position with one cheek turned to the mattress, my girlfriend giggled at me. "My turn."

"You look happy, Benjamin."

I was still bent over at my desk, having just shoved my binder into my bag as my Tuesday morning class came to an end. Looking up, I saw Professor Isakova smiling at me, for once not having a single student come to speak with her after class. She leaned back against the lectern, her arms folded across her chest and a kind smile on her face.

I shrugged and nodded, unable to contain my much bigger smile.

"How are things going with your new girlfriend?"

"Great. Just great. We're really happy."

"I can tell. I'm glad for you, although I must admit a bit of envy."

"Envy?"

Stepping away from the lectern, Viktoriya came closer to me as I stood up, hoisted my bag strap over my head, and settled it onto my left shoulder. By now, there were only a couple of other students still in the classroom, and they were making their way out. Still, she pitched her voice lower and practically whispered to me, "I have fond memories of you bringing your last girlfriend to my house, and I can't help but wonder how her little sister stacks up."

I blushed and pinched my lips to stifle a guffaw. Arching an eyebrow, I looked back at my professor and asked, "Is that an invitation?"

She held her hands up immediately and waved me off, shaking her head with a grin. "No, no. You and I have completed our journey, and it's my firm rule to never go back to previous pupils. Cleaner that way. But you were a special one, and if I were ever to break that rule ... well ... It's tempting, but no."

I shrugged. "Don't know what you're missing..."

Viktoriya sighed and stroked her neck, gliding the hand down her chest and through her cleavage for a moment before catching herself and removing the hand. "I do know ... that's the temptation. In any case, I'll leave you to your escort."

"Escort?" I noticed Viktoriya looking past me and then turned my head. Kim stood in the doorway, waiting patiently as she did most Tuesdays and Thursdays at this time. I smiled and glanced back at my professor. "See you tomorrow, Viktoriya."

My professor tapped her nose and then waggled a finger reproachfully.

I grinned and corrected myself more formally, "My apologies, Professor." I knew she didn't really mind me calling her by her first name, but the use of her title was a reminder that our period of intimacy was over.

I joined Kim just outside the classroom, and we left the building to meet up with Bert and Sasha, per usual. There were greeting hugs all around, except for Bert and me (fist bumps). Sasha and I shared a little glance, a kind of sheepish grin spreading across both our faces. After that incredible threesome with DJ, she'd left to hurry to her 2pm class with my cum still leaking out of her ass, a little factoid she told me about when we met again for Isakova's 4pm Econ course.

We flirted more that night at dinner than we'd done for weeks, but in the end nothing came of it. I was sure Sasha was sore and stretched in uncomfortable places, and I had Krav Maga on Mondays anyway. But to see her again this morning was to instantly remind myself of what we'd done yesterday afternoon, and I couldn't help but feel a chubby forming at the thought of getting my hands (and other organs) on her spectacular body once again, especially since Sasha was continuing to dress to impress, her frumpy wardrobe now apparently a thing of the past.

It was after lunch when we all began to split up that the beautiful brunette sidled up to me and asked quite plainly, "When can we do it again?" Her eyes were wide and bright, her eagerness quite obvious.

I smiled and thought about how I was free until 4pm, but I hadn't forgotten which day of the week this was and I shook my head apologetically. "It's Tuesday. Paige is visiting."

Pouting playfully, Sasha shoved me in the shoulder. "That's right. Mr. Man-whore has to keep all his playthings satisfied. Should I arrange an appointment on your social calendar with your personal assistant?"

Out of the blue, Kim stepped alongside us. "Ben's evenings are taken up every weekday except Friday, and you would need to discuss those with DJ anyway. But you both have free time immediately after lunch Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

Bert cut in. "Hey, that's usually Xbox time."

I leveled my friend with a look.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm just saying, I DID call it," he grumped.

Shaking my head and furrowing my eyebrows, I shrugged with my hands up and asked, "When the hell did you two come back? You were ten feet away and heading in that direction five seconds ago."

Bert jerked a thumb at Kim. "She turned around; I just came with."

I looked at Kim, who blushed. "Umm ... I shouldn't be eavesdropping, should I?"

"No, you shouldn't. Now... gone!" I gestured both of them away with both hands. Blushing, Kim spun around and marched away as ordered. Bert grinned and followed after.

Only after making sure they were both truly out of earshot, I finally turned back to Sasha. "Sorry about that."

"No need for you to apologize. Like you have any more control over them than I do."

"Well, all the same."

"It's okay." Sasha leaned into me and pecked my lips. "It's better this way. Nothing scheduled, nothing planned. We're just friends. No commitments, right? I'll see you around."

"Bye," I replied, sighing mournfully to see such a wonderful piece of ass walking away unfucked. But then I checked my watch. Time to get home and find out how Paige's date went.

"Holy fucking hell..." I groaned, flopping onto my back, lest I crush Paige beneath my heavy weight. My body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and I was panting like a race horse. And my head flopped back as my spine turned to jello.

After lunch with my friends, I'd arrived home and prepared for Paige's arrival, fully expecting one of two things: Either Paige would tell me that her date with Everett went really well, that she was falling in love, and that she wouldn't cheat on her new boyfriend by sleeping with me; or she would tell me that things had gone poorly, and we would spend some serious time talking about it while I reassured her that her Mr. Right was still out there somewhere.

It just goes to show you how much I suck at predicting the future.

Paige arrived at the house full of bubbly energy. She gleefully told me that her date with Everett had gone perfectly, but that they were light-years away from being ready for intimacy and in the meantime, she was fucking horny and wanted my fucking fuckstick fucking her as fucking soon as fucking possible.

An hour later, I was spurting a quart of spunk into the back of my little Catholic redhead's womb while she curled all four limbs around my body, screaming "Jesus Fucking Christ!" at the top of her lungs while she thrashed beneath me in heavenly pleasure. It was my second climax of the day, and her fifth. And then I groaned "Holy fucking hell" and rolled off her.

And THEN ... sweaty, naked, and Paige's pussy oozing cum ... we talked about her date.

Little April had stayed with Aunt Polly and Uncle Frank. Little Gabrielle had stayed with her grandparents. And the two single parents did the old standby dinner and a movie. The movie of choice was the terribly romantic Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Dinner was at the Olive Garden. And the pair stayed out until nearly 11pm, talking constantly and enjoying themselves so much they lost track of time. Like fourteen-year-olds, Everett bashfully kissed Paige's cheek when he returned her to her house. And Paige fell asleep hugging a pillow and dreaming of the sweet young man holding her in his arms.

I was still breathing hard after the athletic shagging Paige had just put me through, and I shook my head, chuckling to myself after that little story.

"What?" Paige propped herself up on an elbow, frowning at me.

"Man, that poor boy has NO idea what he's in for once he peels back your little innocent façade. -I- get worn out trying to keep up with you. Once you decide to sleep with him, you're gonna give him a heart attack."

Biting her lip, Paige looked away and grinned. "Well ... yeah..."

I reached up and flicked a few long auburn bangs off of her forehead. "Perfect little schoolgirl on the outside ... But you're a freakin' wildcat in the sack, Red."

"I'll have to warm him up to that," she sighed. "Start off slow. Not dump my whole repertoire on him all at once."

"Agreed."

Paige reached down and slid her hand across my thigh, rubbing it before reaching higher and petting my dormant cock. "But he's not there yet. One night out does not make him my boyfriend. And while our first date went really well, it remains to be seen whether or not we'll ever get that far. In the meantime..."

I took a deep breath, watching as my naked redhead slid herself down the bed, breathing hotly on my prick before lifting it up with thumb and forefinger and then slurping it into her mouth. She hummed to taste our mingled cum still coating my skin, and in that first suck, I felt my erection return at least a quarter of the way.

Paige popped off, her dark blue eyes flashing as she looked up at me. "In the meantime," she repeated. "I intend to gorge myself on Buffet Ben. It may have to last me a little while till I get Everett up to speed."

I gestured back down to my junk. "Gorge away."

So she did.

-- DECEMBER 2005, SENIOR YEAR --

The rest of the week flew by, and Viktoriya had it right: I was happy.

On the academic front, I was feeling pretty good about my classes. I had solid A's in all of them, and all that was left was to wrap up the last week and a half of instruction before Finals Week started on the 12th. My project team had our presentation down pat, and I was 100% sure Professor Ice would give us a top grade. And on top of that, I'd front-loaded my courses, so that I only had three classes to take for my final semester as an undergrad, and I could even drop one of the electives if I wanted to REALLY loaf around.

On the family front, things couldn't be better. Mom and Dad were present without being intrusive, curious about the things going on in my life but not pressuring when I didn't want to stay on the phone very long. Adrienne, on the other hand, called me twice just to catch up, telling me how much she missed me and looked forward to coming home to Orange County over the winter holidays. And the twins were doing well, Eden still with the same boyfriend she'd had last year and Emma choosing not to date just yet, so I had little to worry about there.

I was spending a lot of time with Brooke, especially since she was best friends with my girlfriend, and we seemed to be doing a lot of things together as a group of three (yes, including that). And most surprisingly, Brandi called me out of the blue to say 'hi' and catch up, even though I'd seen her just last week. It wasn't that we'd been estranged or anything, but ever since her disastrous break-up with Matt Kanemura and my unfortunate role in the relationship's demise, I felt like there'd been an invisible wall between us. We still loved each other, and we were still siblings, but ever since she moved out of the Berkeley house and went on to live her adult life in The City, I just felt like we'd lost the close bond that we used to have.

But something had changed after the events of Thanksgiving night. I wasn't expecting her to resume our sexual relationship, but it was as if that one night that "didn't count" broke down the wall between us. And even if we never had sex ever again, at least I could feel that I'd gotten my loving sister back.

I certainly didn't need Brandi to resume our sexual relationship. As Sasha had so cleverly pointed out, I was getting enough to fill a social calendar, now with four red-hot and horny girls using me as their one source of dick. On the getting laid front, I never lacked for opportunity, and in fact needed to turn down the girls on occasion just to catch a break. Sasha came home with me after lunch on Wednesday, desperate for me to take her around the world before she had to get to her 2pm class. DJ occupied all of my evenings, sometimes with Brooke and sometimes not. And then there was the Thursday night after dinner, when Bert walked to the BART station by himself while Sasha joined DJ in my bedroom and both of them kept me awake and fucking until after 2am, despite it being a school night.

Between classes, studying, Krav Maga, dancing, cooking, talking on the phone with a family member, and getting sexually assaulted by one or more of my current lovers, it was all I could do just to find enough time to sleep.

At least on weekends, I could look forward to most of those time-sucks going away. On Friday, I took my girlfriend out on a real date, amusingly enough to see the Harry Potter movie and eat at Olive Garden; it was DJ's sense of humor after I'd told her about Paige's and Everett's night out. We held hands under the table for most of the meal, forcing me to eat with my left hand. Most of the food went into take-home containers anyway, since my amorous girlfriend was more interested in either talking to me or sucking my face, at least until some old biddy at the next table cleared her throat and sent us a disapproving glare that would have made a 70-year-old nun proud.

Back at home, my girlfriend came up with a rather ... strange ... role-play. She parked me in front of the TV, watching a basketball game on ESPN, and told me under no uncertain terms not to come in her bedroom until I heard her open the door from the inside. Playing along, I did as she asked. And about twenty minutes later, I heard the telltale creaking and got up to go investigate.

What I found inside pretty much blew my mind. DJ was flat on her back on top of her bed, fully clothed and unmoving. I didn't understand at first, so I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms to say, "As seduction outfits go, that one's pretty tame."

It really was. On her feet were pink platform prostitute heels, with two inches under the toes and probably six under the heel, but besides those nothing about her attire screamed 'sex'. She wore baggy jean shorts that actually looked a couple of sizes too big, and a white cropped tank-top that wasn't very form-fitting at all.

But DJ didn't respond to my comment, staring unmoving at the ceiling. Her silence and absolute stillness were rather unnerving, and I swiftly moved forward to make sure that she was alive and still breathing.

She was, but she didn't respond when I asked, "Hey, you okay?" I started to worry that she'd taken some sort of drug that was having an unexpected side effect, but when I hovered over her face, waving a hand in front of her motionless eyes, she finally blinked and looked at me for just a moment before returning to her vacant forward stare.

Only then did I notice what was printed on her shirt. In classic Mattel script, the word "Barbie" was written in multiple colors and shades with black borders outlining each letter. I saw that DJ had put her hair up into a single side-skewed ponytail like an 80's pop star, and that she'd layered on a good amount of makeup, caking on the foundation and drastically exaggerating her eyeshadow and liner to give herself a more doll-like appearance.

And that's when it hit me. My beautiful, buxom, blonde girlfriend had transformed herself into ... a Barbie doll. Literally.

Growing up with four sisters and the three Evans girls, it was impossible not to come across Barbie dolls. As a young boy I had avoided them, worried they might give me cooties, except whenever Dawn wanted me to play, in which case I always toughed it out for her. As an adolescent, now removed to SoCal away from Dawn, I used to strip the dolls naked and fantasize what it would be like to have a real-life Barbie doll in the flesh to have sex with. That fantasy had fallen by the wayside when I'd turned sixteen and ACTUALLY started having sex, but to see DJ like this brought the fantasy right back.

Just like in my adolescent fantasies, I started by taking off her clothes. There wasn't much to take off. I removed the baggy shorts first and found that – just like a real Barbie doll – she wore no underwear. It suddenly struck me that the reason DJ's jean shorts were so baggy was because doll clothes had to fit around the Barbie doll's hips, but were never really fitted to the doll's tiny waist. DJ had really thought of everything. The white tank top likewise came off easily.

In a way, what happened next could be considered ... creepy. My girlfriend stayed in character the whole time, moving only how I moved her, and not responding in any way. A part of my mind, somewhere in the back, told me that what I was doing was ... wrong ... in some way. Like I was taking advantage of a human being that was incapable of resisting me. But my consciousness (and my conscience) noted every time that DJ couldn't help but gasp her pleasure, or every time her sky blue eyes flicked to me, usually accompanied by a satisfied smile before she erased her expression once again. And thus with my guilt assuaged, I went on having my way with her.

In every way. In every hole. In every pose I could think of ... Just think about that for a second. Think about the things you could do if you were in my shoes.

My girlfriend became my Barbie. She became my fuck doll. She never complained. She never resisted. All she did was moan and cum and keep her limbs locked in whatever position I put them in until she couldn't keep them there anymore. And in the end she went limp from excessive pleasure and simply remained flat on her back to let me have my way with her.

Only when I had truly spent myself, so thoroughly and completely exhausted that I couldn't think of a single other thing to do to her, did my Barbie finally come to life, kissing me back and almost bashfully asking if I'd enjoyed that.

Thoroughly satisfied, I groaned, "Gawd, DJ. If I could love you any more than I do right now, my heart would literally rupture in my chest."

She simply grinned and kissed me back.

Something in us changed after that Friday night, and I don't mean that DJ became my Barbie doll full time. If anything, she became the exact opposite.

A doll is beautiful, compliant, and unresisting. It also gives no feedback whatsoever. There's no warmth in a doll's body, no responsiveness to your touch. Well, actually I'm sure they make something like that in Japan somewhere, but you get my drift.

Not to say that my girlfriend had been like a doll to me before. Maybe this analogy isn't working. The POINT is: starting that weekend, DJ became so much MORE. More warm. More present. More responsive.

More engaged. More affectionate. And above all else, more WITH me. We still didn't have the kind of mystical connection I'd enjoyed with Dawn, the sort of thing where she could sense my moods before I did, or recognize what I wanted without me having to tell her. But she was trying, and she was learning. We both were. It probably helped that we spent the entire weekend together, never leaving each other's side except to go to the bathroom.

Despite the passion of our budding new relationship, we'd been careful to take things slow. Neither of us wanted a rebound, and we also both valued our lives independent of each other. I'd gotten used to a lot of my single guy routines, carrying out my day according to my own schedule without being shackled to the needs or desires of anyone else. I had my friends; DJ had hers. We both wanted to maintain those relationships, and the only time we really spent together were dinners and the late evenings after I was done with my Project Ben activities.

But there were no classes to attend that first weekend of December, no Krav Maga or ballroom dancing. Yeah, DJ could have taken off to hang out at Vivian Wang's, but when we woke up Saturday morning she decided to stay with me. We didn't even make love that morning, too wiped out from the Barbie doll adventures the previous night. Instead we stayed naked in bed, feeding each other cheerios and just ... talking.

Brooke stopped by once to ask if DJ was heading out with her, but we sent my sister on her way alone. Eventually we did get dressed and made a sort of brunch just for two. And then I hoisted my girlfriend onto the table and pulled her panties down so I could eat my dessert.

Dessert led to fucking on the dining table, as these things are wont to do. And DJ ended up with a protein snack for her trouble. We then cleaned up and decided to get out of the house for a bit, which turned out to be an opportunity for me to geek out like a little kid and head up to the Lawrence Hall of Science. I even climbed Pheena the Fin Whale while DJ shook her head and grinned at me surrounded by a bunch of little kids perched upon it. The museum itself was free for students, and we meandered around commenting about the different exhibits, and then it was DJ's turn to geek out to the animatronic dinosaurs we fondly remembered from our youth.

We stayed until close to closing time, and then wandered out into the big courtyard, holding each other as the sun set in the distance. When the last lights were almost gone, DJ turned to kiss me. And by the time we came up for air, the sky was completely dark and the town had lit up beneath us.

We found dinner ourselves, and then returned home to find a slightly annoyed Brooke. She'd come home to find an empty house and no dinner waiting for her, and she was ready to bitch about it the moment we walked through the door. DJ asked why she hadn't called one of us, but I think my little sister preferred the opportunity to be mad rather than actually make the call, especially since DJ and I decided to make it up to her by taking her upstairs to my bedroom and showering her with physical apologies.

Both girls slept in my bed overnight, although I spent most of the time spooning my girlfriend. Sunday morning then found DJ and me wanting to get away together again, since we'd had such a good time out yesterday. Brooke cracked a joke about me stealing her best friend, but I promised I'd make it up to her later.

We hopped in the Mustang and cruised down to the Emeryville Public Market to find food. After that, we got on the freeway and drove north rather aimlessly. Simply by staying on 580, we crossed the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. When we arrived on the other side, DJ suddenly wanted to go to the Marine Mammal Center and play with the sea lions. We circled down to Sausalito to do that, and then headed over to the Marin Headlands to hike around, catch amazing views of the Golden Gate, and even snap a few pictures with my camera phone. Late lunch was at Sushi Ran, and then we headed into The City to make a surprise visit to our big sisters. We had dinner with Dayna and Brandi, but no nookie. That part we saved for our return home, breezing past Brooke and Kim chatting in the living room while we hurried upstairs and ripped our clothes off each other. And in the end, we fell asleep in each other's arms once again.

It was a perfect weekend with my girlfriend, and the greatness didn't stop with the coming school week. Even though my first class wasn't until 11am, I woke up early to walk DJ onto campus. We kissed outside her classroom and then I holed myself up in the library to do the studying I'd procrastinated all weekend. And then to my surprise, DJ found ME after my 11am class and joined my project team for lunch.

She had to leave for class after we ate, but she kissed me and threw Sasha a wink, telling the brunette to take good care of her baby until she got back. We went back to my house, and Sasha did just as she was instructed. So with a pussy full of cum my new fuck-buddy pulled on her panties and skipped off to school while I took a much needed nap. Then it was Isakova's Econ course, dinner with everyone, Krav Maga, and making love with DJ one last time before we fell asleep together.

That first Monday set the template for the remainder of the week, our last of regular classes. DJ and I met up as often as we could in the middle of the day, sometimes having lunch with my friends and sometimes with hers. She joined Paige for the redhead's weekly Tuesday session (Paige's dates with Everett had progressed to kissing, but not beyond that), but left me and Sasha to our own devices on Wednesday and Friday. Thursday I had another nap. And our evenings, apart from DJ's trips to the gym and my usual Project Ben activities, were spent side-by-side (or top-to-bottom) as we talked, ate, laughed, studied, and yes ... fucked.

You might have called this time our honeymoon phase, where we couldn't get enough of each other and could barely stand to be apart for more than an hour. It's weird to think of it that way, since we'd known each other forever and had experienced one failed relationship already. But it was what it was. DJ and I were together every opportunity we could get, and by the time the next weekend rolled around, we'd actually started to develop that mysterious connection I didn't understand and yet had missed. We weren't quite finishing each other's sentences, but I was sensing her moods, we were communicating with our eyes, and neither of us could remember the last time we were so happy.

The end of the week finished off in an ideal fashion with my dance class' end of the semester Formal Ball on Saturday night. I'd been informally teaching DJ some of the steps I'd been learning, and besides it's the guy's job to lead. She looked radiant in a full-length pastel purple ball gown, and even finished off the princess motif with elbow-length white gloves and a sparkling tiara. And we had a magical night that I'll never forget.

Everything was perfect.

But you know me. You know perfection in my life never seems to last.

No, DJ and I didn't have some stupid fight over a silly nothing that created a crack in our relationship that grew and grew until our love was irreparably damaged.

No, I didn't cheat on her. And no, she didn't cheat on me. Not then, and not ever.

In fact, there was absolutely nothing wrong with our relationship. We were both deliriously happy, totally in love, and absolutely content with the way things were progressing between us. But everything changed after that Saturday night ball.

My girlfriend and I drove safely home. We went into the house and said hi to my little sister, who was watching a movie on TV. Then my girlfriend kissed me outside her bedroom door, saying that she wanted to peel out of her ball gown and that I should head upstairs and start a shower for two.

I protested that I wanted to help peel the ball gown off of her, but only half-heartedly. My libido wasn't such that I couldn't wait, and the idea of starting something in the shower instead of DJ's bedroom had merit. So I went up the stairs, blissfully unaware of what was coming next.

I got undressed in my bedroom and went into the bathroom. I started up the shower, washing myself and shampooing my hair, knowing it would take DJ a little longer than me to get undressed. I wanted my own cleaning to be done and out of the way, freeing myself up to spend more time washing her. And only a couple of minutes after I was finished with myself, the door opened and my girlfriend came in.

But there was no smile on her face when she pulled the shower curtain aside. Instead of wearing a bathrobe or even just a towel, she was still wearing the ball gown. Her makeup was untouched, and her tiara and jewelry were still in place.

Noticing all this, I frowned immediately and asked, "What's wrong?"

With a heavy sigh, DJ turned her face away from me for a moment and then slumped her shoulders. "It's Brooke."

Momentary panic welled up inside me, as my eyes popped open wide and I jerked up straight. Paranoias about injuries, death, or even worse flew into my brain before I remembered that I'd just seen my sister minutes earlier, perfectly safe and watching TV in our living room. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. Whatever happened to Brooke, I reasoned that my little sister wasn't in immediate danger. Otherwise, DJ wouldn't be so sedate at a moment like this.

"What about Brooke?" I asked, trying to keep myself calm.

DJ sighed again. "She's moving out."