Her female friends at Wilbury College would have done anything to avoid the epithet, but Kali didn’t mind it. In fact, she embraced the label. She loved the sense of power it gave her, loved being in control. Truth be told, teasing cock also made her horny as hell, but no one else needed to know that. And if she had to take care of her own needs afterwards, well, that was a small price to pay for putting the little pricks in their places.

Take last Saturday, for example. She picked up a freshman at a campus dance and, after doing the bump-and-grind for the better part of an hour, invited him back to her room. She could see by the expression on his face that he thought he’d won the lottery—that he was already imagining how he would brag to his friends the next day that he’d bedded a hot senior. She had to stifle a smile as she unlocked the door to her room.

Once inside, she’d let him undo her bra and feel her up. Then she’d taken off her capris and held his hand against her crotch for a moment to show him how wet she was. And after urging him to take off his jeans and boxers, she’d also played with his balls for a minute and brushed his cock lightly with her fingers.

And then, when she was sure his balls were aching and his cock was throbbing, she’d let him have it.

“You know, I’m feeling pretty tired,” she’d said abruptly, giving his cock a final squeeze before letting it drop. “You’d better leave now.”

“What?”

The expression on their faces was always the same and always priceless: a combination of shock, dismay, and bewilderment. This one’s mouth hung open like that of a befuddled cartoon character.

“I’m going to bed,” she’d continued, all-business now, “so put on your boxers and hit the road.”

“But. . .”

Before he could protest further, she’d had him dressed and was bundling him out of the room. As she closed the door, Kali noticed that his erection was making an unsightly bulge in his pants.

“I bet he stumbled into the nearest bathroom and whacked off in a stall,” she told a friend the next day while regaling her with the story of her latest victim.

“I don’t know, Kali,” Liz had said, shaking her head. “It seems kind of mean.”

Kali waved a hand dismissively. “They’re only getting what they deserve.”

Kali hadn’t always been a cock-tease. During her last two years of high school and first semester at Wilbury, she’d had her fair share of cock, as she liked to put it. But then she’d had a series of experiences that left an indelible impression on her.

On three different occasions as a freshman, she’d had sex with male students who seemed like genuinely nice guys. They’d told her how much they liked her and swore they were looking for more than a one-time hookup. And on all three occasions these seemingly nice guys had stopped talking to her the day after they fucked her.

She’d been upset at first—had even cried on more than one occasion. But the more she thought about these incidents, the angrier she got. Kali had never been one to take defeat lying down. She was determined to get her revenge. And as she contemplated what these three guys had done to her, she got an idea. She was going to turn the tables on them.

And she did. Over the next three years she left so many guys high and dry that she lost count of the number. Sometimes she imagined a chart with tiny images of erect penises to represent each of her conquests and laughed out loud.

The dance had already been going for an hour when Kali arrived with her friends Liz and Ellie. They’d had a couple of beers back in the dorm, and she was feeling a mild but pleasant buzz. She immediately began to scan the dance floor for her next victim.

“Hey, Kali, that guy’s staring at you,” Liz said.

Kali turned her head in the direction Liz was looking. It took her a moment to locate the guy on the other side of the dance floor, but when she did her stomach gave a little flip. He was tall with broad shoulders, curly black hair, and dark, penetrating eyes. And he was, indeed, staring at her.

“Have either of you seen this guy before?” Kali asked, holding his gaze in a meaningful way before turning back to her friends.

“He’s in one of my classes,” Ellie replied. “He’s a junior named Jason Wolfe. He transferred to Wilbury at the start of the semester.”

“I may have to give him a special welcome,” Kali said with a smile.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Kali,” Ellie said nervously. “He seems awfully sure of himself. And if the rumors I’ve heard are true, he’s already seduced half the girls in my history class.”

“Even better,” Kali said. “I like a challenge. Lately it’s been like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“Hello, there.”

Kali turned to find herself staring into Jason Wolfe’s smiling face. She felt an unsettling wave of heat in her loins but managed to keep her composure.

“Can I help you?” she asked coolly.

“I saw you staring at me across the room, so I thought I’d come over and say hello.”

Arrogant puppy, Kali thought to herself. She was going to enjoy toying with this one.

“I think it was the other way around,” she pointed out, “but now that you’re here you may as well tell me what you want.”

At that moment the next song started up. Jason glanced at the DJ and then back at Kali. “Dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.

The way he said it made it sound as if he was doing Kali a favor. She made a point of looking around deliberately before she answered.

“I don’t see any better offers at the moment,” she replied tartly, “so I guess you’ll have to do.”

Jason took her hand and led her out to the dance floor. Ellie was right, Kali realized after a few minutes. Jason Wolfe was very sure of himself. Although she tried to stir him up in the usual ways—pushing her pelvis against his crotch, rubbing her hand on his chest—she couldn’t rid herself of the uneasy feeling that he was the one who was actually in control. She was also feeling aroused in a way that was unsettling.

“Stop it,” she told herself, pushing these thoughts away. She reminded herself what she would do to Jason when she got him back to her room and began to feel a return of her usual confidence. Let him believe he’s in control, she thought with a smirk. It would only make him more frustrated when she cut him off.

It was close to 1:00 when Kali led Jason down the narrow hall to her dorm room. When they reached her door, she pulled his face down to hers with both hands and gave him a lingering kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips. Then she gave him her best “come hither” look and unlocked the door.

She threw her keys onto her desk and was about to turn around when Jason took hold of her waist and steered her to the wall. He grabbed her hands and pulled her arms up until they were over her head. Then he slid his hands underneath her shirt and found her bra strap. Before she even had time to protest, he was massaging her bare breasts, rubbing her erect nipples with his thumbs.

“You have beautiful tits,” he murmured in her ear, “big and firm.”

Kali could feel her panties growing moist and was annoyed at the impact Jason’s words were having on her. She was aware of how strong and sure his hands were. She was also aware that she could hear herself panting. She needed to change the dynamic of this encounter—and fast.

She twirled around and pushed Jason away playfully with both hands.

“Let’s get those pants off,” she said breezily, reasserting control. “Now.”

While Jason stripped off his jeans, Kali took off her shirt and bra. She might as well let him get an eyeful of her tits so he could think about what he was missing later. She rubbed them with both hands and then lifted her right breast to her mouth so she could lick the nipple. She was gratified to see she had his full attention now.

Moving closer, she reached out her hand and brushed it against the crotch of his underwear. She was startled to discover how large and hard he seemed beneath the thin layer of cotton, and she became aware of a faint pulsing between her legs. Keep focused, girl, she reminded herself.

You’re in control now.

Sensing her advantage, she moved her hand down to Jason’s thigh and slid it up the leg hole of his boxers. Then she slipped it behind his balls so that she could rub his perineum with all four fingers while brushing the back of his scrotum at the same time. In her experience, this maneuver turned the average college guy into a glassy-eyed piece of putty that she could manipulate at will.

Jason already seemed to be getting that vacant stare with which she’d become so familiar. What had she been worried about? He was just another clueless guy.

Perhaps lulled by these thoughts into a sense of overconfidence, Kali wasn’t ready for Jason’s next move. Stepping forward suddenly, he picked her up as if she was a feather and moved her over to the bed. When he put her down, he slipped his knee between her legs, keeping her slightly off the floor and up on her toes. As she struggled to get a foothold, her crotch rubbed back and forth across his knee, triggering a wave of intense heat. To her dismay, she let out a low whimpering noise.

Kali was relieved, a moment later, when Jason lowered her to the floor. But before she could regain her balance, he undid her jeans and pulled them down to her ankles. Then he picked her up again and deposited her onto the bed. She fell back onto her elbows and reflexively twisted the lower half of her body to the side so that her knees were pressed tightly together. With two hard tugs, Jason pulled her jeans the rest of the way off and threw them onto the floor.

Kali was badly rattled now. Jason seemed to have taken complete command of their encounter, and she was aware that the faint pulse between her legs had become a steady throb. Stay calm, she told herself. You can do this.

But when she looked up, she found herself staring at Jason’s fully erect cock. It was both thick and long, and try as she might Kali couldn’t tear her eyes away. Jason smiled, as if aware of the impact he was having on her. He stepped forward and began to stroke her leg lightly with his fingers.

“Do you want to know what’s going to happen in a few minutes?” he asked.

He spoke quietly, but his voice had a smooth, almost hypnotic quality to it.

“What?” Kali found herself asking, her voice husky.

“In a few minutes, you’re going to be kneeling on the bed without your panties. I’m going to be kneeling behind you rubbing my cock back and forth against your pussy. All you’re going to be able to think about is how much you want my cock inside you.”

Kali had closed her eyes when Jason started talking and was doing her best to ignore his words.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she said in what she hoped was a sneer, but her words sounded weak even to her own ears.

As hard as she tried to think about something else, she kept visualizing in vivid detail the scene Jason was describing. She imagined herself on all fours with her legs spread and no panties. She imagined his big cock pushing against her opening.

Distracted by this thought, Kali didn’t notice when Jason’s fingers tightened around her ankle. With one smooth motion, he suddenly lifted her left leg straight up, pulled it across her body, and stepped between her thighs. With a cry of surprise, she slipped off her elbows onto her back. Although she struggled to close her legs again, Jason held her left ankle firmly in place. In any case, his body was in the way now.

Kali realized what was about to happen. “Wait. . .” she began, but it was too late. Jason’s left hand flashed forward and found the crotch of her panties, which by this time were soaking wet.

His strong fingers massaged and probed her pussy, and the throbbing there grew even stronger.
It was getting hard to think straight—hard to concentrate on anything beyond the sensation between her legs—but Kali made a final effort to pull herself together. As much as she wanted Jason inside her, she couldn’t let him win like this, she told herself, couldn’t face that look of triumph he would have afterwards.

With a tremendous effort, she struggled back onto her elbows, making sure not to look at Jason’s cock. If she could just push herself up into a sitting position, she could brush his hand away—could seize control again.

As if reading her mind, Jason snaked his fingers around the waistband of her panties and slipped his hand inside. He quickly found her opening and slid his middle finger into her dripping cunt. The next moment his thumb found her clit, which he began to rub in a smooth, circular motion.

Kali struggled a moment longer before sinking back onto the bed. She was vaguely aware of the high-pitched whimpering noise she was making as she felt the last remnants of her will drain away. Whereas a few minutes earlier she was fighting to close her legs, she was now fighting to spread them as wide as possible, pushing her crotch against Jason’s hand to increase the friction. The only thing that mattered to her now was satisfying the intense hunger between her legs.

When Jason slid Kali’s panties off a few minutes later, she made no attempt to protest. Nor did she protest when he flipped her over onto her stomach. And when he put his hands on her hips and pulled her into a kneeling position, she scrambled up quickly, pumping her hips in eager anticipation.

The next moment she felt something big and hard brush against her pussy. Jason ran his cock back and forth in her wet slit, occasionally letting the head slip into her opening.

“Jesus Christ, fuck me!” Kali begged.

“I’d like to,” Jason said, “but you have to make a promise first.”

“Anything!” she wailed.

“You have to promise me that you won’t tease any more cock at Wilbury.”

So he knew about her reputation. Earlier in the evening, Kali would have laughed in his face. Now she didn’t give it a second’s thought.

“I promise,” she said.

“What do you promise?” Jason persisted, slipping the head of his cock in and out of her once more.

“I promise I won’t tease any more cock!”

“Good girl,” Jason said. He hesitated for a moment and then slid the full length of his shaft into her cunt. Kali thought she’d never felt anything so delicious in her entire life, and she pumped her hips in time to his thrusts for several minutes. After they’d been fucking a while, Jason began to brush her nipples with the palms of his hands and then let his right hand drift down between her legs. He found her swollen clit with his middle finger and played with it until she began to come in wave after wave of intense pleasure.

Kali was true to her word. She never teased cock at Wilbury again. She was far too busy riding Jason’s.

“Did I snore?” I ask.

“No honey. I can’t sleep…”

I touch her face.

“Did you have a good time at the party, tonight?’

She bites her lip and touches my cheek.

“Yes, my dear. Always with you.”

“We hardly spoke to each each other. So many guests.”

“I know,” she says in a faint, heavy whisper, “I missed you all night. Did you get my messages?”

“You mean the hand across my back by the punch bowl or on the balcony, the fingers grazing across my cock?”

“Both, lover. You were particularly sexy last night.”

We kiss. It’s a moist, soft kiss.

“As were you. That little black dress is now my favorite.”

“It’s a size too small. I almost fell out of the top. And no room for panties.”

“I noticed.”

“I guess you did, you rascal. Feeling my ass while you talked basketball. Someone could’ve seen that.”

“No. I held their interest. I was pretty glib on the topic of one on one.”

“One on one, huh?”

“My favorite game. Especially with you.”

She raises up, brightened.

“Let’s get back to the topic of no underwear. When did you decide to go commando?” She asks, raising her eyebrows.

“When I watched you get dressed. I figured why should you have all the fun?”

“Well, we are going to be quite the topic amongst our dry cleaners.”

I kiss her again.

“Oh well.”

I love her voice, the richness of tone, the relaxed huskiness. It’s like gentle fingers trilling along the surface of my desire. She raises her eyebrows, then bites her lip. I know now what this is about.

She lifts her side of the covers, presenting herself.

“Look, honey…”

Her body is radiant and disheveled. One breast spills from her nightgown, catches the light. The pink nipple tight and radiant, the other breast still adorned, jiggling at the briefest of movement. Her gown is gathered on her upper thighs, the ruffles of fabric illuminated like the greek sculptures that adorned the yard of our host. Creamy folds in moonlit reverence. She breathes heavy and rubs her thighs together. She knows I love this. She knows its effect. She looks down to see if, yes, it has sneaked out. I revel in the feel of silk along my lengthening intention. I move closer. She parts her legs. That makes a sound.

“It’s talking to you, baby, It missed you. We both missed you,” she says in a whisper, as she moves to me.

My lover is comfortable in size, generous curves. Her movements are my foreplay, even when she’s standing and walking across the floor. In jeans or slacks. That night, I was riveted watching her unrestricted hips gently sway beneath her dress.

But here, in bed, her movements are flammable. Combustible.

How hot she feels against me, against my prick. I ooze a slight precursor along her belly. She wraps my prick in the silk of her gown.

“I wanted to go home as soon as I got there,” she whispered, “you could’ve taken me in that garden.”

She kisses with a slight flick of her tongue.

“You could’ve taken me on the hood of our car.”

She bites my lip. She runs her tongue across my eyelids. My cock pulsates in her hand. My breathing deepens. I take in her scent.

“You mean pull your little black dress up? Run my hands inside your thighs? Dip my fingers into you?”

“Anytime you wanted.”

She kicks the covers off us both.

“Touch me there.”

She’s hot, moist and impatient with my pseudo-reticence. She pushes my fingers in. One finger. Then two. Three. Her essence drips from her pussy onto the bed.

“My God, honey,” I say in a whisper.

“I’m going to drown you, baby,” she says moving her hips to my manipulations.

Her nightgown has slipped off her shoulders. Her breasts heave and dance. The sight of her arousal is breathtaking. Her parfum de sex fills the room. I finger fuck her, then remove my pajama bottoms. They catch on my prick. She covers a chuckle with her hand.

“Having a bit of a time are we? Entangled in our own ardor?”

I laugh and naked, I move to her, repairing the brief distance between us with my body.

“Top, baby. I want top.”

She says it in such a low, lusty whisper, I feel it through my chest. She mounts reaching back for my prick, sliding onto it, mashing her breasts into my chest. I can feel the heat of her through her nipples, as she humps slowly, her cheek to mine.

“I love how we fit together, baby, don’t you,” she says in between gasps, “can you feel me squeezing you?”

“God, yes,” I reply, immersed in our compete embrace.

She gasps and lurches.

“I wanted you all night long. Your hand on my bare ass drove me crazy.”

She moves like a passionate tide above me, her breasts swinging, until she fills the room with gasps and shouts, wrapping her arms around my neck, clenching my, holding me deep as she comes.

My darling holds me, her fingers grip my shoulders. Her hair is in ringlets, her gown matted in sweat and satiation. She turns her knees out. Her feet rub the insides of my legs.

“You’re magnificent,” I say to her as I feel the last of my passion drain.

“I love making love to you darling,” she says, “but now…”

She rises from me and on her knees, removes the last of her dampened garment. I watch as the last of her gown is pushed from the bed, the bedclothes, off the mattress. The moonlight brightens as if the moon, wide-eyed, is watching in astonishment. She is naked on her knees, giving me a show. Running her hands through her hair and caressing her breasts. Her lovely brown tuft is matted with passion. I hungrily watch her undulate. She watches my cock, and as it bops and rises.

“There it is. There’s my hot fuck toy.” She moves to me and takes it to her lips. I shake with ecstasy as she plunges, cupping my balls with her hands. She works me to rigidity, then moves to her back, drawing her knees up slowly. A move that ignites me time and time again. I move between my lover’s legs, and run my shaft along her slit.

“Take me home, lover,” she says, “fuck me…”

I mount my goddess and plunge deep. She wraps her legs around my waist, and we move as one.

She urges me to the brightest light of passion. Sensing the horizon, she grabs my ass and shimmies hard, propelling herself into bliss.

The calm after our vigorous collision surrounds us. We sigh to each other, wearing silly grins. All around us, discarded linens and garments. Our breathing is one breath. The moon, sated, passes by our window. The room is dark.

“We must attend more parties, my love,” she says.

The ticking of the clock returns as the only sound. We sleep as the clock’s hands sweep to three-fifty one, a.m.

That was always when she woke up.

Images of the dream stayed with her as she showered. She could feel the trail of kisses he’d left on her neck and shoulders. As she dried herself, the roughness of the towel reminded her how soft his touch had been.
Only vestiges of the dream were with her as she walked through the doors of her office building – only to see Ryan in the lobby waiting to catch the next elevator. They’d never met but she’d seen him occasionally around the office. She liked the look of strength in his hands; his well-muscled body wasn’t hidden by the tailored business suit.
He looked up from his paper when she approached, giving her the full force of those amazing blue eyes. Did she see a trace of interest? Did he look at her just a bit longer than necessary before turning back to his paper? (”Don’t be an idiot,” she told herself. “It’s only a dream.”)
Later that afternoon Ryan knocked on her office door. “I thought you were the one from the elevator, but I wasn’t sure. Bob told me to get some numbers from you for the Sumner case I’m working on.” He stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I’m Ryan. Ryan Stokes.”
Katie Howard. I’ve seen you around, too, but didn’t know where you worked. Nice to meet you, Ryan.” (”Easy girl! All in the line of duty!”)
She went to her file cabinet to get Ryan the information he needed, glad she’d worn an outfit she knew looked good. The cut of her blouse flattered her, accentuating her fullness of her breasts without being too over the top. She really hoped he’d notice. The conversation drifted away from business after she briefed him on the numbers. They talked for a few minutes about nothing: the weather, sports (”Thank you Dad for being a football fan”), a new exhibit at the art museum. Katie was stunned – and thrilled – to hear him say, “I was invited to a fundraiser at the museum Friday night. It would be a great time to see the exhibit. Would you like to join me?”

The following Monday, Ryan smiled at her as he walked by her office – on his way to some meeting, no doubt. On his way back a while later he stopped and looked in. “Hey there. I really enjoyed our date Friday,” he said with a smile that made his blue eyes twinkle. “Glad to see you found all your clothes.”

For straight men pussy is the hidden kingdom, the Golden Palace of the Himalayas, Xanadu. We spend many of our waking hours strategizing how to get there or negotiating to stay there. When we sleep, we dream of it.

Pussy is a penis pocket sewn by god.

Unless, that is, you’re a gay man. When asked about pussy one gay friend of mine simply responded, “Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.”

Many of the responses I received were quite funny.

There was this one:

“There’s no there there.”

And this one:

“Too much going on down there, all those folds and stuff, very distracting, no Feng Shui. The ass keeps it simple, no tricky landscape.”

Or this, one of my favorites:

“I love cock and a pussy doesn’t have one of those.”

Still another friend had a rather Freudian take on the whole thing.

“I realized recently that I was in my mother’s pussy once… And only once! That’s all I have to say.”

He was not alone in this philosophy. A beautifully verbose friend of mine had this to say:

“Frankly, I think sexually-active hets have mother issues. Why would you insert, arguably, your most prized possession into something that you tried as hell to escape at your birth?”

He moved on to free association.

“Fishy, slimy, dark, yeast factory, etc…”

Then finished with some heartfelt words.

“When I was little and dumb I used to have a fear that when I grew up and got married; what would I do with a woman? Er, more specifically, what would I do with her thing down there? The thought used to make me sweat buckets. As a faggy adult, I still sweat buckets thinking of pussy, but now it’s for my fellow hets that have to deal with them. I thank the lord for granting me limp-wristedness.”

The topic can be so rife with peril one friend simply responded, “Oh my.”

A rather clever fellow said, “I have no hard feelings towards it.”

Believe it or not I do have some thoughtful friends. They may not be particularly deep, but they’re thoughtful. Here’s a bloke who was nearly a married minister before realizing his flag would remain at half-mast on that ship.

“When I was still only dreaming of sucking cock, I had some experience with “pussy”. I’m not like other queers who have some weird fear of the female genitalia.

“I loved the women that I slept with, but they didn’t make me horny. They actually liked me despite my on again off again hard-on, probably because I happen to be a very oral fellow. Cunnilingus seemed like a good stalling tactic until I could fix my mind on a guy that I was hot for.

“I should add that at that time, I had no homo experience and thought that my homo fantasies were just an abhorration that would go away with enough hetero experience.”

Another friend related a similar tale.

“I am not grossed out by pussy, though I have never seen one in person. I have had sex with a woman twice in my life: The first was with a lesbian friend of mine… I was very drunk and kept my eyes shut, and the second time was with my roommate in college. I lost a bet and had to have sex with her. I made her keep her shirt on and I never came. I do however remember the feeling of being sucked in after knocking on the door for a few seconds, if that makes sense.”

A more sexually oriented friend of mine had more positive memories of his youthful hetero indiscretions.

“I liked having sex with girls when I was a teenager. It was fun. My last girlfriend and I would have threesomes with the boy across the street. She’d hold me from behind while I took him from behind. She loved it! Loved watching the whole thing. Good times.

“For whatever reason he didn’t like to watch me with her. I think it made him jealous. He wasn’t into her at all, but he enjoyed my performance level when she was there encouraging the action.

“I really did enjoy the sex with her. She blew me underneath the goal post and then I took her on the 50-yard line at my high school late one night.

“I do crave it sometimes. I enjoy sex with men a lot more, but I still think about the softness of a female’s kiss and the smoothness of her body. I can’t talk about it too much with straight friends because I think it weirds them out.

“They come to rely on the fact that you’re not competition for them. Gay men aren’t supposed to like sex with women. That’s the point about being gay. So when I make comments about breasts or about watching myself go in and out of a wet pussy and how horny that makes me, I get the sense that I’ve lost a little trust with them.”

This same friend had this comment about watching porn.

“I watch straight and bisexual porn on occasion just to see something different, but my first thought when the female first appears on screen is always, “where’s the dick?”. Is that weird?

“It somehow always catches me off guard to see a vagina. I certainly don’t think of it as icky, I just watch a lot of gay porn, so when I don’t see something flopping about between the legs, I always cock my head with a “huh?” and then laugh at myself for doing it again.”

In what appears to be a trend here’s another comment.

“I have recently been watching straight porn (something I was unfamiliar with until recently), and have been very intrigued by the female anatomy. In some ways they are just like dicks…some are bigger then others, some are prettier then others, some are down right ugly!!!….some are bald (do you still refer to it as a pussy if there is no hair?), (YES) some are bushed, AND they are both located between the legs.

“I must say I am totally grossed out by camel toe…male or female. YES, there is such a thing as male camel toe.”

In the end I feel the following statement sums up the general reaction.

“What I would say about “pussy” is that when you’re craving steak and potatoes, lo-fat salad just won’t do. Nothing against “pussy”, I’m just hungry for something else. I will add that watching straight porno is interesting and I enjoy seeing ladies privates being pleasured. I just wouldn’t want to be the one to do that job.

“Cock is where it’s at.”