Becoming a LACy

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One of the great things about being an army brat is you get exposed to a lot of different things kids in the U.S. do not get exposed to. Before going to college I had lived in Germany, Japan, Brazil, and Italy. I am now fluent in four languages (besides English), I can prepare sushi, I know how to make wine, I can kick your ass using either Karate or Capoeira, and most importantly I have been taught how to please a woman romantically, sensually, and sexually. How does a 19 year old acquire those skills, let’s just say that when your dad is the lead Military Police (MP) investigator you get exposed to the good and the bad of what a place has to offer.

Being who I was, people were constantly trying to get in good with my dad. One of the more popular ways to try to get in good with my dad was through me. I was shown every indulgence a young man could hope for. I stayed away from the alcohol and drugs – but like any teenage boy I couldn’t resist the attention of a beautiful woman. I never put myself in a situation that would compromise my dad, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have fun.

My time abroad sadly ended when my father was killed investigating a PFC who thought he could get away with selling grenade launchers to the local bad guys. My dad had him dead to rights, but in a crazed attempt to get away both he and my dad were killed.

There aren’t many good things about your dad being killed in the line of duty, but one of them is the fact that my mom will never be wanting financially for the rest of her life. That is what led us here – to this nice little suburb in Silicon Valley. We have our little McMansion in this gated community of Esperanza Heights. Mom is doing better these days – she actually got a job at a tech firm doing HR recruiting. Being fluent in 4 languages, like she is, has it perks when trying to recruit the best talent in the world.

As for me… I helped my mom move in, and to get situated in the neighborhood – and all that fun stuff. Hell, I even got her hooked up with the rest of the mom’s in the neighborhood’s book club (mom can be a bit of an introvert sometimes). Once a month they get together, pretend to talk about a book, and get shit-faced drunk. But my summer in Esperanza Heights was coming to a close and I am now headed to Santa Carrillo University. My dad’s GI Bill is paying for the whole thing – tuition, books, lodging and everything else you could want. Santa Carrillo is a private university in Northern California known as one of the top universities in the country. I guess the admissions department was impressed with my grades and my SAT score – and I am sure that little note in my file about my dad helped as well.

Life at Santa Carrillo was like nothing close to what I have experienced when I lived abroad. The campus was beautiful, the classes were challenging & fun, and somehow every student (young man and young lady alike) looked like Roman gods and goddesses. We were completely isolated in a bubble of privilege.

My first semester was going by pretty uneventfully. The only surprise so far was that my roommate couldn’t handle the pressure of Santa Carrillo and had dropped out after 6 weeks and returned home to Phoenix. Having my own dorm room had its positives and negatives. I loved the privacy, but one of the reasons I went to college was the social aspect, and not having a roommate diminished the social part of a school a little. Socially, I was doing just fine. Lots of parties, lots of meeting new people, but having lived overseas for so long I was not your typical Santa Carrillo student.

Being the son of an investigator kept my mind working at a different level than most other students. I would notice the drug users, the drug dealers, the cheaters, and all of the other nefarious things going on in my new little community. I didn’t really care – it was sad that young kids that were given every opportunity in life were doing things that were literally rotting their brain, but “to each his own” I always say.

There was one curious thing that was really starting to peak my interest – the pink notebooks that I saw almost every day in my classes. The owners of these books were always women. These notebooks looked like a journal. Their only adornment was a decorative padlock on the front with a piece of lace tied to it. I would see the goddesses taking notes for the class in a regular notebook, but every once in a while they would open the pink notebook and jot something down. I checked the bookstore to see if they sold them – nope!

I was determined to figure it out, but as my dad taught me – ‘sometimes the answers come to you, you just have to be patient.’ Boy, in this case he sure was right.

I came home for Thanksgiving break and my mom had outdone herself. We had an amazing time. It was great to spend time with her. But hanging around in a neighborhood where I didn’t know anybody was a bit of a drag so I went back to school a couple of days early in order to get ready for finals. The campus escort bayan ataköy was like a ghost town so I hit a local pub (of course I had a fake I.D.!) to have some dinner and a few beers. While sitting alone in the back of the bar one of the goddesses from my calculus class (Stacy) came into the pub with a female friend. They were having a couple of appletinis and having a good time. Well, one of the pub’s intoxicated male patrons decided it was time to try and pick up on Stacy. Things went poorly for him and were about to get much worse. Stacy was not interested in a drunk, belligerent douchebag.

When Stacy’s friend excused herself to go to the restroom, our local douchebag decided to be a little more aggressive. I cannot tell you exactly what happened next, but he put his hands on Stacy in a way that she was not enjoying and then he found himself pinned to the floor, about to have his shoulder separated – by me. Things got really quiet in the pub. I got really close to his face and whispered “you can go home, or you can go to the hospital – your choice”. He snarled something and I let him go. He left the pub and Stacy stood there speechless. I stuck out my hand to shake hers and said “Hi, I think you are in my calculus class. I’m Derrick”. Not the most creative introduction of all time, but she shook my hand and said “Oh my god, that was amazing. How can I ever thank you?” I smiled and said “Just be careful going home, that will be thanks enough.”

I had a bad feeling that we had not seen the last of Mr. Douchebag. The asshole who left did not look like he was going to be content with losing out, so when Stacy left the bar, I counted to 30 and followed her and her friend out. I saw them walking down the street towards campus when I saw the asshole confront them. I heard him screaming “You think that you can be a cocktease and get away with it?” In .2 seconds I was at a dead run. He had his back turned to me so my options were more or less limitless. My first instinct was to sweep his legs out from under him and slam his head into the sidewalk. While this would have ended things quickly, I might have spent the rest of the weekend in county jail. Instead I got behind him, slid my arm around his neck, applied pressure, and cut off the flow of blood to his brain. He was out cold before he knew what had happened.

Stacy had that same look on her face as she did in the bar. As I left the asshole on the ground, Stacy and her friend had her arms around me and were crying. We stood there for a full minute just hugging. I could tell they needed to feel safe and I was their savior. We broke the hug, and I asked if I could walk them home. Stacy replied “I owe you more than I am ever going to be able to repay you.” I just smiled and said “Maybe we can study together some time or something.” Once again proving that I have absolutely no game tonight. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off and all I could think of was getting these beautiful women home and then getting some sleep.

We walked a couple of blocks to their apartment building. I could see my dorm from their apartment, and the thought of sleep was very intoxicating at that moment. I wished them a good night and started to stroll back to my quiet dorm.

I had barely been inside my room for 30 seconds when there was a knock at my door. I opened it up to see Stacy standing there. She stepped inside, kissed me and said “As I was walking up to my door I knew exactly how I needed to repay you.” All of a sudden getting a good night sleep was the furthest thing from my mind.

She pushed me up against the door, and while I was taking off my shirt she was focused on getting my belt undone. She had my belt undone and my pants pulled down around my ankles so fast that if there were an Olympic event in de-pantsing, she would be our country’s best chance for a gold medal. She looped her fingers around the waistband of my boxers and slowly pulled them down a little bit at a time. This is the moment that all women get super excited about – how is IT going to ‘measure up’?? By the grin that she flashed, she was quite happy with what she saw. While I have been told the length of my cock is ‘very nice’, I have been told it is the girth that makes women very happy indeed.

It was obvious very quickly that this goddess knew her way around a cock. Her tongue made the slow journey all the way up my shaft – from the base to the tip – sending me to heaven with how she was making love to me with her mouth. She teased that extra sensitive spot with her tongue – right where the shaft meets the tip – to the point where I could no longer achieve rational thought. She took the tip of my cock into her mouth and slowly made her way down the shaft. One hand was pumping the shaft of my cock while with the other hand her nails were tickling my balls.

She got into a good rhythm and I was quickly approaching the point of no return. While I would have loved to let her finish me off, after the night she escort bayan fatih has had, she deserves a little TLC. I pull my cock out of her mouth, lift her up, and carry her to the bed.

Quick side note here, college dorm beds are not made for sex. They are “XL singles” – meaning that they are narrow as fuck, but long enough to sleep in without your feet hanging over the end.

I carried Stacy over to the edge of the bed, laid her down, and got down on the floor between her legs. I was going to take my time as I wanted to make sure that Stacy had a great end to an otherwise shitty night.

I placed my hands under her ass and lifted her up just a little so I could get complete access to her pussy. I slowly ran my tongue from slit to clit, enjoying the smell of her excitement as well as the taste of her nectar. Knowing that every woman is slightly different, I tested to see what was getting the best verbal and non-verbal reactions from Stacy. I instantly found out that Stacy loved some decently hard pressure applied to her clit with quick circular movements. When you combine that with butterfly type caresses with the tip of my tongue, she was absolutely in heaven.

I slid one hand out from under her ass and slipped my middle finger into her pussy. It does not take long to figure out if a girl liked having her G-spot stimulated. If she does, it is like a surge of electricity shooting through her body. Well, let’s just say that it was like Stacy was struck by a lightning bolt. She arched her back and nearly cut off all blood to my head when she clamped down on my head with her thighs. The combination of senses was hitting her all at the same time, and when I took her clit into my mouth and started sucking it, her breathing changed, her hands grabbed my hair, her toes curled, and she exploded into my mouth. She showered me with her orgasm. I slowed my pace with my tongue and finger, but I did not stop as I wanted her to ride the pleasure of the orgasm for some time. The orgasm she was having had a huge explosion followed by a nice long ride of pleasure.

When she could stand it no longer, she asked me to lay down on the floor. She slid right off the bed and straddled me. She rubbed my cock against her clit and all I heard from her was “Mmmmmmmm”. We made eye contact and she whispered to me “please let me ride you – just lay back and enjoy”.

Who am I to argue??

Her pussy was still twitching from her orgasm, but she slowly slid down my shaft until she bottomed out. It took her a moment to adjust to my girth, but based on the look on her face, she was blissfully happy. She bent down and we kissed. It was a slow and deeply passionate kiss. She smiled and said “Thanks for making me cum like that, doesn’t happen very often”. All I could do was smile.

She started riding me. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, and sometimes she would just grind down on me. I know she was stimulating her clit while she was grinding down on me. I learned from a very skilled Madame in Germany that if I ever found myself in this exact situation, that I would drive my partner crazy if I just lifted my hips a little off the ground. Changing the angle just a slight amount would create 10 times more friction for her clit. So when she ground down the next time, I lifted my hips up off the ground. It was like the skies had opened and she had been shown the true meaning of life. Her eyes shot open, she looked down at me and said “Holy fuck Derrick, what are you doing to me?”

I could feel her pussy tightening around me. She bent over again and pinned my shoulders to the ground as she picked up her pace until she was riding me at a speed I didn’t think possible. She screamed “YESSSSSSSSS – I am cumming. Come with meeeeeeeeeeee”. I didn’t need any more encouragement.

I could feel every muscle in her pussy tighten while she came. This stimulation sent me over the top and I could feel myself exploding inside of her. She could feel it as well, and just by using the muscles in her pussy, she milked every bit of cum out of me.

She collapsed down onto me. As easily as it would have been to fall asleep right there, I waited a minute or two before I got up and crawled into bed. This was a weird moment of truth… I scooted over against the wall and asked her without any words if she wanted to join me. I could tell this was the right call by the look on her face. She cuddled in next to me, and within five minutes we were blissfully asleep. We were spooning with my arm draped around her. After the night she had I instinctively knew she needed to feel safe and secure – and my arms (and bed) were the perfect place for her at that moment.

I woke up the next morning to see Stacy sitting at my desk totally naked. It was a site that I know would get me through many nights of studying. I soaked it all in, making a mental picture that I hoped would last a long time. As I said “Good morning beautiful”. She turned around, closed her little pink notebook, escort bayan şişli put it into her bag and said “Good morning my savior”.

At the time I was more concerned with the blood rushing to my cock than the notebook, but as I would later realize, that little pink notebook would change my life forever.

She looked at me with a sad face and said “I can tell by the look in your eyes that you were hoping for some ‘mookie’ (morning nookie), but I need to get home. But don’t worry, this won’t be the last time – I promise”.

After I insisted that I walk her back to her apartment, I tried my best to set up a time to see her again. She just smiled and said “See you soon my savior”.

To say I was just a little bit sad, would be an understatement, but as we kissed, she smiled, winked at me and said “Don’t worry babe, I see good things in your future.” I had no idea what she meant, but it sounded promising.

If it weren’t for the smile and wink I would think she was (very nicely) blowing me off. But there was something there that led me to believe something was indeed going to be changing in my sex life – and most definitely for the better.

With the end of Thanksgiving break, came crunch time for classes. Finals were just around the corner and it was time to get serious. One the four classes I was taking, the one that gave me the most concern was my Calculus class. I had a B+ in the class and there was no way I was not going to finish my first semester with anything less than a 4.0.

We had one last test in the class before the final. Our instructor was great about getting us tests back quickly and she handed them back in a strange way. She would arrange them from lowest score to the highest – so the tension would build as she handed them back. I knew I did well on the test but when she was down to the last three tests I was feeling pretty damn good about myself.

As it turned out I was not the top score in the class (that belonged to the young lady that who always sat next to the goddess from the pub). But my 95% put me safely into the A- range. My grade would come down to what I did on the final.

As we were filing out of the class, the friend of the goddess tapped me on the shoulder and said “Hi Derrick. I apologize for being so forward, but I was hoping a couple of friends and I could use you this weekend.” My brain was working at a million miles per hour. She could tell that I was trying to process what she said. She immediately broke out laughing and said “Wow, that didn’t come out how I planned. What I meant to say was that a couple of my friends and I could sure use you this weekend to help us study for the Calculus final.” I went from confusion, to unbridled lust, to blue balls in the span of about three seconds.

All I could do is laugh and say “Well, that does not sound as fun as the first thing – but I would love to study with you and your friends – this final is really important for me.” I knew that by being part of this group, my chances of scoring well on the test just drastically improved.

We were both smiling at that point. “Ok Derrick, I will contact you in the next couple of days and we can set something up.”

I guess the blood that left my big head and rushed momentarily to my little head was what caused me not to be able to process that I had never given her my name nor my number.

Weekends don’t mean much during finals at Santa Carrillo. On Saturday afternoon I found myself in my little cubby in the library when a number I didn’t recognize was coming up on my phone. Now normally I would never pick up the phone when I don’t recognize a number, but for some reason I did today. I picked it up and with the quietest voice I could muster I said “Hello”. “Hi Derrick, this is Melanie from your calculus class. I was wondering if you had some time tonight to study for the Calculus final.”

I had planned on studying for Religious Studies for the night, but this was an opportunity I couldn’t say no to. “Sure thing. Just tell me when and where.” “Ok, how about 143 Calle Bonita – it’s the Lambda Alpha Chi sorority house. We will need to stay downstairs in the study room since no males are allowed anywhere in the house.” “Perfect, see you then.”

One of the things my dad used to use in his investigations was a pretty decent sized whiteboard. He would diagram out his latest case and stare at it for hours. He claimed to be a “visual learner” and he said the whiteboard would help him see the pieces as they slowly came together. I considered myself a visual learner as well, so it didn’t seem strange to me to show up at Lambda Alpha Chi sorority house with my backpack, some study snacks, and a whiteboard. However, the looks I got from the three members of Lambda made me feel a little self-conscious.

By the time my study snacks (peanut M&Ms and licorice bits) had been busted out, we were knee deep in derivatives and other super-fun Calculus concepts. It did not take long for the Lambda’s to take over the white board and we spent the next three hours really making some progress. It was almost 11 o’clock when the first of our group disappeared. Twenty minutes later the next two called it a night and that left Melanie (the Lambda who invited me) and me wrapping things up.

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