Brooke is Bored

This story is inspired by a real Brooke, who was kind enough to
send me pictures and tell me a bit about herself.  I hope her
pussy gets very wet reading this.
-Abe


Chapter 1

Brooke Myerson was bored.

She had no classes on Friday, and on THIS particular last day of
the week, most of the dorm had vacated to take advantage of the
long holiday weekend.
Brooke's roommate Carla had also driven back home to San Diego
county.  Normally, Carla was Brooke's go-to resource for when
times were slow.  ...or when she was horny.   ...or both.

Lying on her bed in the small dorm room, Brooke closed her eyes
and envisioned Carla's pale, alabaster skin.  The pale pink of
her crispy nipples on top of her small, but perfectly shaped
breasts.  She remembered holding Carla's head, running her
fingers through her short brunette hair, as her lips sucked and
teased Brooke's clitoris to an incredible orgasm.  She could see
the stark contrast of Carla's white skin against Brooke's
chocolate thighs, as their intertwined legs ground together. 
Wet, hot, clits blazing, she almost felt the sucking pleasure of
her dark brown nipples between Carla's pink lips, her red tongue,
her grazing white teeth.

Growing up as a pastor's daughter, she had never dreamed that sex
- that sex with a woman - would be so important to her.  In the
year and a half she'd been going to school, she had rapidly
progressed from the repressed daughter of Southern Baptist
minister into a worldly and sensual creature to whom school was
secondary to pleasure.

Of course her parents knew none of this.  They had no idea that
their darling girl - their only daughter - loved both cock and
pussy, and that there was not a day in which she didn't cum at
least several times.

The memory of her most recent adventures with Carla took her hand
inside her panties before she knew what she was doing.  "GOD,
this weekend was going to be boring," she sighed to herself, just
before her impending orgasm erased all conscious thought.


Fred Kinsey was most assuredly NOT bored.  Fred was pretty much
invisible around the state college where he and Brooke and Carla
and about 30,000 other college students attempted to obtain an
education.  Fred was invisible by design.  Fred loved to watch.

He was watching now, as Brooke, who pushed up the t-shirt
covering those luscious breasts with one hand, while the other
was a blur inside her panties.  He was from the same small town
that Brook Myerson was from - in her grade even, but so far, she
hadn't seen him.  She had looked right at him any number of
times, but she had not recognized him as the anonymous nerd from
high school - he was just another anonymous nerd around campus.

Click - Click - his expensive digital camera had a perfect view
across the quad and down into her first floor window.  He
couldn't believe he was this lucky.  These wouldn't be as good as
the OTHER pictures he had taken of Brooke - and Carla - but they
were good.

Because of the tripod his camera was mounted on, he could fiddle
open his pants and free his stiff cock from the confines of his
shorts.  Fred, despite being somewhat on the scrawny side, would
surprise many people if they knew the size of the dragon he kept
hidden in his ubiquitous baggy cargo shorts.  Easily eight inches
in length and tree-like in girth, it would indeed have surprised
many people.

However, because Fred was as introverted as he was hung, no one
had ever seen his cock, at least no woman.  He'd had some
interest shown by two boys - football players who, rumors seeming
to be accurate, liked cock as much as pussy - in high school,
when they cornered him in the shower after gym class.  He'd
managed to be left alone for his first three years in High
School, and now, 18 with only a couple months left, his meekness
wasn't enough to keep the two boys from showing interest in an
unwelcome way.

He remembered how humiliating it had been, as the two senior
boys, looking to see that they weren't being watched, moved
closer to him, one on each side.  Their mature, muscular bodies,
contrasted sharply with his.  Both were older than him, and far
more mature - the only comparative features were their tumescent
cocks, thickening as they pressed closer to him.
"Hank, check out the package on Squidbert here," at least no one
called him THAT anymore.

Hank, the shorter and more muscular of the two stepped closer as
he soaped his body down, using the opportunity to stroke his cock
a couple times, so that the spongy cockhead began to press
against Fred's side.
"Tommy, hard to believe isn't it, that someone this scrawny could
have dick that big," Hank said, moving closer, so that his cock
grazed across Fred's stomach.
Tommy wasn't to miss out, and, his own thin, long cock poking
straight out, reached out his hand to grasp Fred's member.  Fred
could remember the humiliation of it - and the excitement.  He
could remember how hard he became in Tommy's hands, and how
quickly he was aroused.

He knew he wasn't gay - he hadn't thought of himself as Bisexual,
though now, thinking back, maybe that's what he was.

The two boys had moved closer still and forced him to put a hand
on each of their cocks.  Hank's muscular arm kept him from
moving, as Tommy, looking one more time to make sure no one was
there, knelt in front of Hank and sucked his long, hard, thick
cock into his mouth.

It was all still a blur - like a dream, really - the hot wetness
of Tommy's mouth, Hank's roaming hand reaching between his cheeks
to impale his ass, coming - hard.  Just after having his first
orgasm with ANYONE other than himself, noises from the locker
room caused the other two to jump back under the stalls.
Fred never took a shower in the gym again.

His unwillingness to shower caused Tommy and Hank to begin
calling him "Stinkbert" instead, but at least they left him
alone.

Now, though, his thoughts returned to the coffee-colored goddess
who lay on her bed across the courtyard.   He wanted her more
than anything he could think of.  Looking at the small camera
display, he dropped his shorts to the floor and began to stroke
his cock, in time the motions of her hand.  He could imagine
kneeling astride her chest, the feel of those fat, glorious tits
wrapped around his cock, as her mouth eagerly opened to receive
the plunging head of his cock.
The burning in his thighs began and he began to spew his cum,
splattering on the wall, even as high as the window, the milky
globs slowly beginning to slide down the glass.  He had to find a
way to have her.


She lay awhile in bed after cumming. Eventually, her general
restlessness returned and she got up, stripping off her clothes,
thinking to herself that a long shower might inspire her.  Maybe
she would come up with an idea for the evening.  She was between
boyfriends at the moment (something the hot sex with Carla may
have influenced), so she had no one to call, no particular place
to go.

Pulling on the old terrycloth robe she'd had since grade school,
she walked down the hall of her almost empty dorm room.  The robe
that was long when she was 8, now, it barely covered the
still-damp lips of her pussy.  A bend at the waist in any
direction would show something society normally demanded be
covered.
Before the door was even shut, she had flipped open the robe and
tossed it onto a hook.


Fred peered through the hallway door window and watched as Brooke
entered the bathroom.  It was now or never.  Later he wondered
where he'd finally found the inspiration to act, rather than just
watch, but in the moment, he felt compelled to move quietly down
the hall until he stood outside the communal women's bathroom
door.

He heard her start the shower and looked nervously up and down
the hallway, but nothing stirred.  In his hand he held several
printouts.  He knew who Brooke's parents were - he'd gone so far
as to attend a couple services during the summer.  He found a
fellow computer enthusiast who worked in the dorm administration
office, and worked to ensure that his room was A) a single room
and B) directly opposite and one floor above the window into
Brooke's room.

Breathing deep, garnering all the strength he could muster - he
was so nervous his cock had softened completely - he opened the
door to the women' bath.  It was a mirror image of the men's
bathroom, with the shower room to the left, rather than the
right. He could hear her humming some tune to herself.

Carefully, he shut the door soundlessly behind him and stepped
over to the shower room entrance.  Peeking around the corner, he
saw her standing there, head back with her eyes closed as she let
the water course through her thick, black hair, hanging halfway
down her back.  He could see the smooth line of her jaw, those
full lips, with a hint of the brilliant teeth behind them.  Her
hands were behind her back as she rocked from side to side under
the water, her tits swaying back and forth invitingly.  She was
completely shaved, and he could see her pussy lips, see the water
flow down between them and down her deliciously brown thighs.

All of his life he'd fantasize about the woman that might relieve
him of his hated virginity.  He had driven up and down the
downtown streets, but the threat of disease or violence - his
fear - kept him from hiring any of the women he saw there.

Brooke would be the one.  He knew it.

Carefully, he backed away, and put the photos he held into the
terry cloth robe hanging outside.  He also left the note.

  If you don't meet my demands,
  your family and everyone in
  your congregation will receive
  copies of these pictures.
  Call this number.

He'd written his cell number at the bottom.

As quietly as he'd come, he backed out of the room, quickly
ensuring no one had seen him enter.  Unlike when he entered the
room, his cock was as hard as an iron rod.

...to be continued...