Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 13

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More success stories from the picnic strategy.
9.1k words
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Part 13 of the 19 part series

Updated 10/01/2022
Created 07/21/2009
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We watched as Margery and Tom walked toward her dorm.

"Nice couple. How long have you known them?" asked Janice.

"Margery and I belong to the same club," I said. "I met Tom when I was desperate for help to set up the video system for the psych research project I'm working on this summer. He's a whiz at this stuff, which is a good thing, because I'm not. I don't think they'd met before today. Just clicked, I guess.

"Now," I said, turning the key, "we have work to do."

" 'We?' "

"Well, uh, yes, if you wouldn't mind helping me," I stammered, uncertain again. "We have to make decisions on the photos from this morning. Since you're in them, and you know everybody, the extra set of eyes will help."

"Okay, but I'm not a very visual person."

"Even better. You'll see what a normal person sees."

I uploaded both cameras and we began flipping through the pictures, starting with the publicity shots. I sat Janice in my chair and parked myself behind her, on the end of my bed.

We selected three possibilities for the group photo. The best, in my opinion, had Charlie Waddington in the middle of his six students sporting a huge smile. Since the name of the act at Literratica next weekend was, after all, "Charlie Waddington and Friends," the only question was which was best. There were two other shots that showed more animation in the faces of some of the players, but I liked this one best. We decided to send all three and let the group decide.

The one-on-ones-with-Charlie were mixed. Martha, as always, stood out, obviously there was chemistry between them. Janice's smile looked forced, but we agreed on which one was the best. We selected two or three for the other four students, made up a group email, and sent them on their way.

Then there were the picnic photos. 126 images with a surprising number of worthwhile shots. We liked 22, nine of which featured Martha (for some reason). Six were of Mike and Nick, and the others were of everyone else. I was particularly pleased with one where Nick was looking very lovingly at Mike, and another where Helen had her hand on Francis's shoulder and a predatory smile on her face. We talked about whether to send any of them to the individuals involved, and decided they were personal, so I would keep them.

Janice had underestimated her visual self. Of the 16 shots she'd taken during our walk, four were pretty good, a high percentage. Sure, she could have composed them better, and, sure, she hadn't been very aggressive about just shooting, but all-in-all they were pretty good.

I particularly liked one where she got me looking good.

"Seems like an ordinary photograph to me."

"Well, I'm the guy who still uses his high-school graduation portrait on Facebook."

"The shoemaker doesn't have shoes?"

"That and the fact that I don't use Facebook much. I like keeping up with my friends, but I post innocuous stuff. I wouldn't mention that I went on this picnic, for example."

"Or at least not the good parts," she was smiling as she swiveled the chair to face me.

"I've never seen anything like Helen and Francis," I confessed, feeling warm.

"You don't watch porn?" She sounded skeptical.

"That doesn't count, or at least it doesn't count with me. It's porn, everybody's got enormous, uh, you know . . . ," I fumbled.

"Cocks?"

I blushed. "Well, yes."

"And tits?"

This is getting deep. And you are getting hard.

"They do everything for the camera angles," I pontificated, although it was true. "Things we couldn't see when we were watching them."

"Helen was really into it." Janice licked her lips as we stood, facing each other. "Did you see how she was moving when she came?"

"Yeah, everything was really fly —"

I couldn't finish the sentence because Janice had pulled me to her and jammed her tongue into my mouth while she ground her crotch into mine. I kissed back in self-defense.

"Clothes," I croaked when we broke, and we frantically tore at each other. She was quickly naked from the waist down as I yanked her jeans and panties to the floor. She pulled my t-shirt over my head.

I grabbed her hips, pulled her fuzzy pussy to my mouth, and began frantically fluttering her opening with my tongue. She moaned and wiggled her ass in my hands as I kneaded the cheeks. I had just started on her clit hood when she stiffened and hissed:

"Oh god yes, oh god yesssssss!"

She bent backward and crashed onto the bed. I followed, holding myself to her pussy as she writhed under my tongue's assault. She pulled my face into her.

"More! My clit! Oh yes, god that's gooooood! Oh GODDDD!" and she climaxed again, this time jamming her hips into my face.

As she settled, I started again, but she pulled me up beside her. She plastered her mouth to mine and kept me there as forcefully as she had held my face to her pussy, shoving her tongue into every crevice she could reach.

Finally she calmed enough to open her eyes.

"I think I want more of that, but can we wait a week or two, while I recover?" she husked.

"I won't be able to restrain myself for another ten seconds unless I'm in you. Please!"

"Yeah, that's more like it. Let's really get naked," and she sat up. After opening my belt and unzipping me, she tapped my ass and said "up." I obediently lifted my hips and she stripped off my shorts and jockeys, tossing them to the floor.

"Buck naked and proud of it, I see," she said, licking her lips.

She inhaled my cock, from which position it was easy for me to roll her shirt over her head and unhook her bra. She helpfully popped off my cock and straightened up, shrugging off the shirt and bra and flicking them away.

"Speaking of proud," I croaked as I palmed one pear-sized breast and tweaked the hardening nipple of the other. She ducked down to my cock again, sucked me almost to the root, then popped off with a smacking sound.

"Cowgirl," I commanded as I lay back. "I missed your clit last time."

"Yippee!" she said and gleefully positioned her pussy on the point of my cock, and started to drop down.

"No, no! Condom!"

"Oh god yeah, I forgot," and she pulled away. I stretched for the drawer and snagged one. She snatched it.

"You're gonna like this," she said, as she tore the foil, then popped the latex into her mouth and rolled the thing down my shaft.

She was right.

Straightening up, she positioned her pussy again and was on me.

"Play with my clit! C'mon, bet I can make you cum before I do!"

My thumb was working before she finished the sentence. She had a distinct advantage because she'd already cum twice. And I'd been excited for ten minutes, not to mention the erotic unrolling of the condom.

It was going to be close.

She worked my cockhead aggressively, swinging her hips around it as I got her clit out from its hood and into action. I had my fingers good and wet and was tweaking the nipple of her left breast with my free hand when it occurred to me that I needed an edge.

I arched my back, driving her into the air far enough that I had to lose contact with her nipple. As we dropped down, I reached behind her and drove my middle finger about an inch into her ass.

"YIPE!" she yelled, and fell forward over my chest. I wiggled my finger and she went absolutely wild, churning her pussy on my cock as she swung her head and hips in abandon.

Suddenly her hair bun gave way and it was like a blizzard — I couldn't see anything because her hair was all over my face. But there was this pussy attacking my cock. I kept up the wiggling with my finger, even moving in and out, as I pounded into her pussy.

It was no contest. She came, long and loud.

"Oh god oh god ohgod-ohgod-ohgod-OH GOD!" she bellowed as she stiffened and clamped me with her pussy muscles. I grunted my intentions pretty soon thereafter, just as she began slowing.

"I'm cummming, so fucking good, I'm cuuuuuming! Oh Janice, I'm gonna cum in you!"

The mass of our bodies, locked in a sweaty embrace, heaving for breath, took a while to cool down. Finally, she rolled us to our sides and swept her hair from my sweaty face. As I felt myself soften, I reached for the ring.

"I can't believe this thing didn't melt," I teased.

"Wasn't for lack of trying, that's for sure," she teased back as I reached across her and dropped the sack into the wastebasket.

We cuddled, then drifted. Before I faded, I saw that it was after nine.

*

I woke to an empty bed and the muted roar of the toilet. She didn't notice that I was awake until I kissed her neck as she spooned in front of me.

"You free for breakfast?"

"What? Oh yes, I'd love to." I started to play with her nipples and she reached through her legs for my glazed cock. She had put her hair up in a ponytail.

"Kinda crinkly. Mind if I wash up?" I asked. I felt her smile and nod.

"Gotta keep your fluids up," I perked as I returned with the water pitcher and two glasses. We drank and refilled.

"Yeah, we both lost a lot, that's for sure." She patted the still-clammy sheets.

We kissed languidly and played with each other's chest.

"You have a good eye for photography. You should do it some more."

"Beginner's luck."

"I'm the one who got lucky," I leered at her. In response, she reached for my cock and stroked down over the head.

"Maybe, but I got the benefit.

"Tell me," she said, her languid stroking getting me aroused, "do you always start out munching?"

"I loved the way you reacted. There's something about your cumming first that turns me on." She had me hard enough that I groaned in pleasure as she bent forward and took me into her mouth.

She didn't draw it out, just worked the cockhead with her lips and hand and stroked my balls. She pushed me over the edge in less than ten minutes.

"Cumminig, I'm cuuuuuming, oh god, Janice, I'm cummmming!" and I arched up and pumped all that I had left into her mouth. When I finished, she pulled off and ran her thumb up the underside of the shaft, squeezing out the remaining cum.

Ostentatiously, she swirled her forefinger around the tip, took it onto her tongue, and swallowed. Grinning, she presented herself for kissing and we sucked each other's tongues, sighed in contentment, and fell asleep.

*

I'll never tire of wakeup blowjobs. Janice was, like last night, workmanlike, efficient, and very good. She had gotten me hard before I realized what was happening.

This time she was on my right hip, her ass pointed alluringly at me. I briefly considered playing with her asshole but discarded the idea when I realized that the surprise could lead to unwanted consequences for my cock. So I contented myself with patting her cheeks.

"I thought I was going to be doing this alone. It's nice to have you join me," she said, pulling off but continuing to jack me.

"I like — oh god that is so gooood — to be around when I'm hard. It enhances — oh godddd yes — the pleasure," I gurgled as she returned to sucking. I gave her ass a few more light caresses, circled around the circumference, and ran my fingernails up her spine as far as I could. She purred, and I started to crest.

"Here it comes, oh god Janice, I'm gonna —" and I blasted into her mouth.

She cleaned me off with her tongue and we lay together, idly playing with each other.

You barely noticed her at the show in the union. Yesterday she was the only one left, so it didn't matter whether there was attraction, you wanted to give Martha some space. But everybody else was getting laid. Admit it, you wanted it too, but she intimidated you.

So you took her home. Got her involved in the pictures. You're surprised when she jumps you, but flattered.

Didn't realize how long her hair was, what with the bun. It was fun when it let lose. Hangs down to the crack of her ass. It's thin. Nice breasts.

God she loves to fuck. And suck. Notice her pussy? Aside from the obvious? Can't remember. It wasn't mangy, but wasn't bikini trimmed or shaved either. Seem to remember fuzzy.

All you wanted was to get laid. Okay, mission accomplished. Feed her cheerios and away she goes.

"You're thinking."

I panicked, not wanting to reveal what I was thinking. I blushed.

"I'm trying to figure out what to do. I invited you for breakfast but all I've got is cold cereal. Let's shower and we'll go out." We got up and headed for the bathroom. I handed her the shower cap that was on the hook of the bathroom door and watched as she folded her hair into it.

As the water streamed over us, I paid closer attention to her pussy. It was brown, same as her hair, and sparse, which is why it seemed fuzzy. I got her to turn around and I soaped her ass, even got her to bend over as I parted the cheeks. Her asshole was very handsome.

I was playing with her nipples as we dried each other, and they were just starting to firm when she kissed me.

"Carl, let's go to my place, we can eat there." She wrapped her hair into the bun and we dressed.

"My place" turned out to be a large sorority house, Delta Delta Mu, on the other side of the campus, almost a half hour away. It wasn't even nine when we walked through the front door. There wasn't a soul in sight.

"Wait here," she said, and headed down a hall, turned right, and disappeared. Three minutes later, she was back.

"C'mon, breakfast's ready."

"This is Mrs. McSorley," she presented, gesturing open-palmed toward a middle-aged woman in a pink apron. "She is the heart and soul of D-D-mew."

"Hi, I'm Carl."

Mrs. McSorley tried but failed to suppress a knowing smile. "Hello," she said, "and welcome."

Turning to Janice, she said "You're sure scrambled eggs and bacon is enough? You'd do better at the second sitting."

"Ha! 'Second sitting.' You've only got 12 paying customers," she said as she pulled a quart of milk from the refrigerator, extracted two glasses from a cupboard, and plunked everything on the counter next to the eggs. Perching herself on a stool, she nodded me to sit next to her.

As we ate, two sleepy-eyed girls in bathrobes and bunny slippers ventured into the kitchen and greeted Janice as "Jan." She introduced me and they smiled, then took their toast and coffee and disappeared.

"Sorority housing living," she said. "Mrs. McSorley keeps order." She grinned conspiratorially and Mrs. McSorley grinned back.

"We have 48 members, but only 10 of us are here this summer. We've taken in two boarders to make ends meet. It's a great place, I'll show you around when we're finished."

The layout of the house was pure center-hall colonial, just like home, only bigger, shingle-sided instead of brick, two stories with dog-house dormers.

The vestibule was oversized, with the staircase set back from the front door maybe 15 feet. On the left was the living room, with three floor-to-ceiling windows on the outside wall, carpeted, and the windows had floor-length drapes. There were several couches and chairs arranged in groups and the walls had paintings and group photos of the members from years past. At the end there was a wall with a door. "ΔΔμ" was lettered above it, modestly.

"Chapter room, members only," she stage-whispered.

The dining room was wider but shorter than the living room, with two floor-to-ceiling windows and drapes. On the rear wall was a swinging door that led to the kitchen.

"Bedrooms upstairs. Wanta see?" When I said yes, she led me up the stairs.

"Half doubles, half singles," she explained as we climbed the stairs. "MAN ON THE FLOOR!" she bellowed as we reached the landing and turned right. "We can accommodate 32. Biggest problem," she said as we walked down the hall, "is the bathrooms, there are only two."

She opened a door. "All clear," she smiled and gestured me inside.

This," she waved, "is all girl: three sinks, lots of mirrors, private toilets, two shower stalls — which," she leered, "are two-person." She slid open a pocket door to reveal a small room with a tub.

"Other one's the same," she said as she walked me back toward the stairs. When we reached the landing, she turned to the right and opened a door. "And this is our common room."

There were half-a-dozen study carrels on the left wall, but the rest of the room was furnished with four clusters of wing chairs and floor lamps. There were two long tables with bankers' chairs and table lamps and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling, in the center of the room. Three large windows let in light and had a view of the back yard. The wall opposite the carrels was floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The whole place was painted dark green.

We settled into two of the very comfy wing chairs.

"After World War II there was this idealistic group of activist women that were determined to get women involved in social change. The idea was to establish residential cooperatives for women only at land-grant universities across the county. Everyone shared all the tasks of daily living, sort of a pre-1960s commune.

"Their first house was pretty ramshackle, but by 1956, when this place was built, they had attracted two wealthy left-wing benefactors and they spent $100,000 on this place. Eventually there were nineteen of these houses in nine states.

"They held public lectures on issues of the day, organized protests, wrote manifestoes. This chapter once broke up a state legislature hearing that was investigating opposition to the Vietnam war.

"But this kind of group living fell out of favor by the late 1970s and things got so bad that, even after taking in boarders, they couldn't pay the bills. The place closed in 1983 and the university took it over and boarded it up.

"In the mid-1990s, Delta Delta Mu, a small national sorority whose ideals are social justice and saving the world, heard about the building and made a deal with the university and the founders to revive it. The university gave them the building and The Mew spent a ton of money for a complete renovation.

"We look at the national sororities and see mindless partying, zero interest in academics, and a focus on getting the M-R-S degree. With us, it's social engagement and academics. You have to do at least 30 hours a semester of community service and maintain a solid B average or we toss you out."

My head was spinning. "How long have you been a member?"

"I pledged two years ago, just before Christmas of my freshman year. My older sister had been a member and she recommended me. Because Alice had been vice-president, they seem to think I should help run the place, so I'm vice president for social activism and chair of the house committee."

"Show me your bedroom?"

She arched an eyebrow, then took a deep breath and let it out. "Back down the hall."

It had a generous closet, but otherwise was like any single room — desk, chair, dresser.

Except for the double bed.

"Let me undress you," I said as she turned from locking the door.

"Oh yeah," she said, and walked us over to the small woven rug next to her bed.

I knelt and unclipped each sandal, then kissed the instep. As I stood, my hands traced up the backs of her legs to her ass cheeks. I gently squeezed each one and moved my face into the V of her legs. The whiff of her arousal, even through the denim, got my cock going, ably assisted by her soft "ohh" of encouragement at my nuzzling.

The sound and feel of her zipper splitting got my cock hardening even more. I slid her jeans down and lifted each foot out, tonguing the insteps again. She lost her balance after I got the second foot out, and she fell backwards, landing diagonally on the bed.

"You have this effect on me," she smiled, opening her legs.

"Up," I commanded, tapping her hip, and I quickly had her panties off.

"Down, feet on the floor." I opened her legs and moved onto her pussy, which was already wet.

This time I started by tonguing her clit. It was obligingly peeking out from the hood, long with a small nub. I pressed it hard against my teeth and she gasped, then pressed her thighs to my head. "So nice, sooooo nice."