Pixie

By Robert Wolf

© 2025, All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 1 - Love at First Sight

The Pixie’s name was Melissa or Mel for short. I learned that she’d always been small compared to everyone else in her life, even her parents. Her father - a six-footer - told me that as she grew up, they’d always thought she’d catch up to her cohorts with a growth spurt of some kind in her teens, but she never did. The Pixie’s mom stood about five-nine.

Mel stood exactly five feet tall and weighed about a hundred pounds, soaking wet. She looked trim, even shapely for her small size, with legs that turned an eye, coupled to well-proportioned hips and a cute little butt that’d catch your attention as she walked away from you - particularly if she was wearing tight cutoffs. She was perfectly proportioned - almost. Besides her petite size, she had a striking face: a perky nose, pleasant mouth, a fantastic smile, angular cheeks, and flirty eyes, and all framed by long blonde hair that she often pulled back into a ponytail.

One other fact was inescapable about her - she was stacked! She had a rack. She was built like a brick shithouse. She had knockers, bazongas, melons, balloons, and more. She had a set of boobs on her that defied the laws of gravity and made every male eye (and many females) turn in awe and wonder as she passed by. They weren’t grotesque or unnaturally bulbous; they were just remarkable - truly remarkable, especially for a young woman her size. Somehow, in seeing her you also knew they were ‘naturals,’ just the way Mel was overall.

In elementary school, because of her pint size, she’d been given the nickname ‘The Pixie’ and never lost it. She liked the implication of mischievous cuteness and magic that the nickname implied. The overall impression of Mel was that of a ‘sexpot’ - a small, hot girl that might do just about anything and probably had.

The Pixie developed an unusual personality. She became a rebel, carefully figuring out what was ‘normal’ and then seeing whether she could do anything but that.

I’m Doug Pearson and I’ve been married to the Pixie for eight years. Together we’ve had two daughters both of who show signs of ‘pixie hood’ in spite of my six-foot frame and more conservative personality. There’s much more to the story, however.

I met the Pixie about four years before we got married. Even though I was a junior at Ohio State and a fraternity man, I’d somehow remained pretty naïve about life and relationships. Slightly shy and a hopeless romantic at heart, I evaluated just about every female acquaintance against some high but hazy standards that I’d developed for the role of soul mate, but at that time no one had come even close.

My role model was not entirely based on my conservative mother. I valued certain traits some of which she didn’t have: being social, creative, mixing well with others, and more. I was sure my parents had their picture next to the words ‘staid’ and ‘conservative’ in the dictionary.

With some conceit, I thought of myself as a ‘catch’ when the right soul mate did come along. I was smart and studying business and management - a career track that almost guaranteed me a good income. Besides a sense of humor, I’d been told by some dates that I was handsome, and in fact I did have that square-jaw, dark eyed, clean-cut look about me. One date told me that I had bedroom eyes, but I never got her near a bedroom. Further, at the time, I was a fraternity man; a label that I thought imparted some mystical qualities of attractiveness to me when on campus. As I said, I was naïve about life at the time.

I met Mel for the first time the day that she arrived at OSU as a freshman. Along with the rest of the male population that saw her, my eyes popped out of my head the first time I saw her walk by. She was wearing a peasant scoop-neck top and a short skirt with spike heels.

I’d volunteered along with many other upper-classmen to help out at what was called freshmen orientation. We helped incoming freshmen get signed up for the courses they needed and wanted. She came to my information table. I can still remember the moment I first saw her, just as though I took a photograph of her that instant. She got my full attention.

Lots of impure thoughts raced through my mind and the words ‘Soul Mate’ flashed before my eyes in large neon letters. I fell in love with her in that instant. I’d been looking for my soul mate for at least six years (I was twenty-one at the time) and suddenly, in just that glance, I knew she was ‘The One’.

A friend of mine once convinced me that we each have an aura and that our auras meet and interact - sharing the totality of information about ourselves, well before our conscious selves ever say a word to the other person and possibly before they’re even in sight. This is why first impressions are often so accurate and so important.

I was dressed in my ‘Joe Cool’ college outfit: tight jeans, loafers with no socks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up part way. My specialty that day was showing freshmen how to register online for the courses they wanted. I had a computer and two workstations at my booth that were connected to the university’s registration system. The Pixie came to my table first. We were both wearing nametags: mine said ‘Doug’ and hers said ‘Melissa’.

We talked and I think she felt some magical connection too. We even flirted a bit; you know using body language to signal you like someone. We leaned into each other’s comments and questions; soon we were very close. We touched a few times, as though to emphasize a point. Each time, I felt some electricity run through my body.

I devoted myself to answering her questions about the course registration process. I demonstrated how the university was now signing up students for classes. Many had done it before showing up on campus, but Mel hadn’t. I asked whether she had any more general questions about the many other aspects of campus life. She did and so we chatted for a long time, prolonging the time we were together.

Her questions were intelligent and a cut above the naiveté of many incoming freshmen. Before she left my area to check out the other tables she was supposed to visit, and with my knees knocking slightly, I asked her to come to a welcome party for new freshmen on Saturday night at my fraternity house. Mel accepted.

After Mel had prowled the rest of the tables at the Orientation Session, she came back to my table. I broke off from the guy I’d been talking to so I could devote undivided attention to the Pixie. She gave me her campus address and cellphone number, and we set a time for me to pick her up on Saturday. She asked if I would escort her out to her ‘ride’ and of course I jumped at the chance.

Mel’s ride turned out to be a little pink Vespa motor scooter - the kind that Barbie would have ridden around on. Very different. Very Pixie-ish. I’d never seen anything like it. She dug out a matching pink helmet out of the small rear luggage compartment and put it on as I watched, commenting about how unusual the scooter was and how lucky she’d be to be able to park just about any place on campus.

Mel grinned at me, “I do lots of things that are unusual - the more, the better. Maybe you’ll want to find out, and maybe you won’t.” Then, just before she left, she came up close to me and pulled my head down and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re cute,” she told me. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

If I hadn’t of been smitten by her before, the kiss on the cheek cemented the emotion. The rest of the day I could think of little else but the Pixie. I’d been told I could be unemotional so it was most uncharacteristic of me to feel my stomach do flippity-flops over some girl I’d just met. Not only did I feel funny, but also I started having little fantasies about Mel - everything from wild sex to just sharing a simple meal with her.

I did a whole self-examination process, especially about whether I was merely attracted to her sexy persona - and her tits. I decided that there was more going on beneath the surface than just our looks. We had chemistry and vibes.

Time passed very slowly over the two days before Saturday. I went out of my way to often walk by her freshman dorm hoping to run into her again, but didn’t see her until it was time for our date. By that time my emotions had ranged from wild elation and certainty that I would sweep her off her feet and that she’d fall in love with me on Saturday, to near suicidal depression that she’d totally reject me and that I’d never see her again.

Mel turned out to be a savvy young woman that knew exactly what her attraction to males was all about. She also knew how to change the basis of the relationship away from sex and her gorgeous breasts into other, more fun or intellectual endeavors. She also had the magic capability to absorb huge quantities of beer without showing the slightest signs of inebriation or loss of mental faculties.

Thus, at my fraternity’s welcome party, mainly for freshmen women, Mel drank me under the table, mostly as we sat and had deep discussions about ourselves, careers, life, spirituality, relationship philosophy, and what made us feel happy. Mel’s views on practically every topic were well thought out, yet often unusual.

For instance, rather than taking courses to get some career certification, she wanted a mix of general science and business courses that would let her do about any kind of job. Thus, she was the only person on campus signed up for the ‘business science’ degree program. Further, she’d decided on a minor in art, making the whole package a very unusual combination.

In terms of religion, she belonged to no normal faith. Instead, she explained, she had read rather widely in the area of metaphysics and eastern religions. She even showed me a small tattoo on her wrist of the Chinese symbol for the Tao. “It reminds me to be in harmony with the world, yet to seek a full and rich life that makes me happy. I am a spiritual being having a human experience.”

As we got to know each other, I found that Mel had taken a special education program through middle and high school, resulting in her graduation over a year earlier than normal for her cohort. For the past year, she’d gone to Europe on her own to ‘see the world’. While there, she’d decided to go to Africa and help in some way regarding the persistent AIDS epidemic. She’d ended up working for three months of her trip as a volunteer in a woman’s clinic in Zimbabwe teaching sex education - mainly about disease and birth control. All I did of note the year before was earn some money bagging groceries at the nearby market.

Somehow, in spite of the beer, I managed to be the most brilliant I think I’d ever been. Suddenly, I found I actually had an intellect and could have deep discussions on profound subjects. The Pixie also seemed impressed, however, both impressions might have been influenced by the prolific amount of alcohol that the two of us consumed.

I fell deeper in love with her that night, however, she was cautious; she emphatically told me she planned to play the field while at college - ‘at least for a while’. That meant that she wanted to date other college men in addition to me. In spite of that partial rejection, she told me she ‘liked’ me and wanted to see me again. She even added the word ‘Please’. I felt those little ‘flippity flops’ and palpitations again, particularly when she accepted my invitation for another date.

I dreamed about the Pixie every night. I would say little prayers about her and our future together. I found myself promising to reform all of my bad habits if only she would fall madly in love with me. Everywhere I went on campus I watched for her, continually disappointed that our paths didn’t cross.

I got to first base with Mel a few nights after that welcome frat party when she deigned to go out with me on our second date and we spent a lot of time with our tongues down each other’s throats. I know both our temperatures were elevated by the time we called it quits that night. I could tell she liked me. I saw Mel a couple of other nights over the next week or so and we repeated our heavy make-out sessions.

Mel didn’t dress like the other co-eds on campus. The usual campus dress consisted of sweats; or jeans or cutoffs, a t-shirt or multi-layer look of some kind, a hoodie, and flip-flops until snowfall. Those pretending to be rebels dressed down in grunge. By contrast, Mel usually wore a skirt and fashionable top and high heels. If you weren’t watching, you could often hear her coming from the click-click-click sound her heels made as she neared. In contrast to a no-jewelry style on campus, Mel usually wore a single strand of pearls or some piece of elegant African art she’d obtained while on her trip. She liked flashy earrings.

Two weeks after the opening fraternity party, I took Mel dancing at one of the more forgiving clubs in Columbus. She dressed to the nines in spike heels, tight black shimmery leather pants, and a scoop neck crop top that left her midriff bare. She had expertly applied makeup and had put her blonde hair in a twist. She looked like a million dollars and looked like she was in her late twenties rather than eighteen.

Somehow, even with her small size, she managed not to get carded. Mel was a hit with everyone in the place and every guy wanted to dance with her; not so much because she was a great dance partner (she was) but because of the magnificent oscillations her breasts achieved in that crop top in time to the throbbing beat of the music from the live band. The top she wore excited everyone in the club, in that it gave the appearance that it might either dip below or flip upwards at any moment, in either event exposing the full glory of her bare breasts. It never did.

While we danced, Mel found interesting ways to mold her body to mine. She also liked to dance by holding one hand on my bare neck, a move that signaled SEX to me in large capital letters. We nuzzled and kissed a lot as we danced.

Mel appeared to be the ‘hottest’ date in the Club. There was more to it than how she danced or shimmied her little lithe body. She had an ‘air’ about her, a sophistication that no other person in the place had, even people decades older. She was friendly, approachable, fun loving, and even loving, yet there was no doubt that she was different, a rebel and someone with avant-garde views on everything.

I decided to let Mel set the pace for any romantic or sexual activity between us. That was a difficult decision to make. It would have been easy to start pawing her and suddenly get slapped or told I was being way too forward, and then never see her again. Thus, I played the role, as I had been brought up, of being the perfect gentleman. My mother and my sister would have been proud of me.

On the way back to campus from the club that night, Mel told me to find some place ‘romantic’ to stop. Columbus had many beautiful parks, and I picked one, although at night it was pitch black. We found a parking area where I thought we wouldn’t be disturbed and parked.

I put my arms around Mel and we made out for a while. Finally, she said, “You may touch my breasts - outside my top. Will you?”

Would I? What a question! Many of the thoughts that I’d had the whole time I’d known were about her boobs and what I’d like to do with them; especially in my masturbatory fantasies. Mel allowed me to push, probe, rub, smooth and tweak her breasts but all from outside her sexy top. We kissed a lot too, again romancing each other from the neck up more than the neck down. I kept my pawing at a gentlemanly pace too.

I was gentle and careful, often visually testing with her in the dim dashboard lights that I wasn’t overstepping some unknown boundary. I made sure to tell her my concern, but her response was to take my other hand and put it on her other breast. I got the message. Mel wanted to be felt.

During the following week, I saw her twice but truly private time was impossible to find, so I had to be content with clandestine make-out sessions or a copped feel somewhere in the shadows of a campus building. We did get to talk about our classes and other things going on in the world.

Mel’s unusual style, attitude and thinking captivated me right from the start of our relationship. If she was the rebel, I was the conservative. Yet I found myself struggling to break out of my ‘traditional’ upbringing and comfort zone, wanting to move into new ways to think about life and how things could be - just the way the Pixie did.

Among other things, this led me to think up unusual dates for us to go on. A typical campus dinner date was to walk down one of the main streets to a pizza place and then occupy a table for most of the night. Somehow, I knew from the beginning that I’d seldom take Mel on that kind of date.

Thus, the following Saturday, I drove the two of us off campus for dinner at a nice little inn. I could tell Mel approved of the ‘different’ date. By the end of dinner, the sun had just set and Mel suggested we find a nice place to watch the pretty sunset. I found a small scenic turnoff from the main road and parked there facing west and the dimming light of day.

Mel turned to me and instructed, “Play with my breasts.” She willingly unbuttoned her silk blouse and undid the front clasp of her lacy bra, exposing her melons to me - acres of simmering hot skin arranged in two glorious half-globes and topped with large areolas and nipples that called to me. I was in heaven. I petted, smoothed, fondled, squeezed, licked, sucked and caressed her breasts for almost two hours, enjoying every second. Apparently Mel liked everything I did too because she kept urging me on and even making suggestions about what I could try with her mammaries and especially her nipples that I kept in a white-hot state.

One might think you’d get bored of passing over the same landscape again and again; however, the Pixie’s chest only offered pure and increasing excitement and wonder. Of course, I made more than a few forays up to her luscious lips, ears, and neck too, but that night her breasts were my primary focus.

Mel started purring shortly into our make-out session and, except for her exhortations to try this or that, she didn’t stop until we called it quits. I could have gone on all night and wanted to escalate and move to the next base, but she’d set our limits and I acknowledged and abided by them, again in the role of the perfect gentleman. I did tell her I hoped our relationship would progress further - rapidly. Mel laughed and said, “We’ll see!” Her smiled said more, such as, “I can’t wait.”

I saw Mel only once mid-week due to our school workloads and two evening seminars I had to attend. We remained content with ‘breast play’ in my car although I started to think about how to bed her. During the next week when we did meet and make out, Mel acknowledged the very physical emphasis of our relationship by being an eager participant. She told me with a giggle one day, “We have to find some things to do other than make-out and pet all the time.”

I’m a fast learner. I could see the logic in her statement; however, I translated it into my own terms: ‘If you want the breasts, you must provide more intellectual pursuits as well;’ A follows B.

Friday night, I took Mel to a concert by the Columbus Symphony Orchestra. Somehow I managed to not only stay awake but also be urbane and attentive. She looked gorgeous and I was proud to have her on my arm that night. At that event I realized that the Pixie fascinated men of all ages, not just college age guys like me. Further, Mel knew the impact she was having. In fact, I noticed, the older the men, the more they ogled her magnificent chest. A chest displayed at its finest that night due to the black sequined evening dress she wore that had a plunging neckline and delicate little spaghetti straps. Her graceful neck was adorned with a simple strand of pearls. Even I was mesmerized by how the dress violated the laws of physics. By far, she was the prettiest woman at the concert.

On the way home Mel suggested that we go the park again. Pleased that I’d get some ‘breast time’ I pulled into the city park. Mel dropped the top of her dress and I started attending to her chest with tongue and hands.

After a while Mel started to rub the evident lump in my pants for the first time. I’d already sported hard-ons when we’d been together before and always accepted the fact that I wouldn’t find relief until after our date ended and I went back to my room. That night, the Pixie had other ideas, however.

As I continued to fondle and kiss her breasts, Mel reached over at one point and slowly unzipped my pants. She reached in and fondled my package with just the right erotic and stimulating touch to head me for earth orbit. A few minutes later, in the midst of a deep ‘soul kiss’ she carefully pulled my cock out of my pants and started to masturbate me. Somehow she seemed to know what to do with her hand better than I did when I jerked off. She was magnificent. I had several hand towels in the glove compartment, so figured if things started to happen, I could prevent a major mess.

I gladly accepted her attentions but then started to rub her thighs as well as her breasts. She told me, “What you’re doing is fine and welcome, but tonight you can’t go past the tops of my stockings.”

‘Damn’, I thought. I said, “Oh, of course.”

Mel told me by way of explanation, “I just don’t want to rush this. I need to take my time - to be sure about you and me - us - and how I feel. Just let me pay attention to you for tonight. You enjoy my bare breasts while I give you some pleasure. You already know I’m not like anyone else you ever met, now let me prove it by how we engage in sex.”

With that she started to give me a serious hand job, a sexual experience that I could tell she excelled at based on prior experience. Instead of feeling some twinge of jealousy that she’d learned this skill through earlier practice, I felt the entire experience one of the most erotic experiences of my life.

Mel’s every action was calculated to bring me to an exquisite, mind-blowing orgasm, but not before bringing me to brink and back an untold number of times. Where had she learned this technique that so drove me crazy? She reduced me to a bundle of raw sexual energy in a matter of minutes, and then someone pleading for relief. She didn’t rush me to climax, and instead focused on raising the sexual tension between us and having us bask in it for many minutes.

Eventually I came all over her hand and, by then, my exposed leg. I deposited a copious amount of cum particularly where her hand and my cock met. I let out a huge sigh and a moan that might have been heard across campus. I quickly produced the hand towels, so we could clean up the mess I’d made. Mel looked impressed that I had been somewhat prepared for something like this.

That night I told Mel a little lie. I told her that I was falling in love with her, when in fact she’d stolen my heart weeks before. She didn’t say anything back but she did kiss me really hard and then wrapped my face in her breasts. I took her response to my words as a positive sign.

I tried to arrange our next date, but she turned me down. Mel went on a date with someone else the following weekend. I was shattered but I couldn’t blame her for my feelings. The first day we met she told me she wanted the ‘full’ college experience on the dating circuit.

As I was studying that Saturday night I ruminated about how I felt about Mel. Oddly enough, I hoped she was having a good time rather than wished for a change of situation. That ship had already sailed. We already had another date planned and somehow that seemed good enough for now.

Mel explained to me a week or two earlier, how she just didn’t feel like other girls. “I don’t feel this drive to forge an exclusive relationship with some guy. I find personal comfort in having lots of guys around me, even guys that love me - and that I love. It’s not that I don’t like you - or value you, because I do - more than you know, so far. It’s how I think about relationships. They just shouldn’t be exclusive. They shouldn’t shut you off from other people. She explained, “That’s why I had two guys take me to each of my last two proms in high school. I’d often go on double dates - two guys and me. And, yes, we’d even make out and mess around.” I resisted asking what ‘mess around’ meant.

Chapter 2 - Toga Party

I slowly and reluctantly accepted Mel’s unique philosophy about dating. Her unusual approach was at least consistent with all the other parts of her non-conforming life style and thinking.

Mel had me read some fictional stories on the Internet about men and women forming polyamorous relationships, and then talking about how they worked and the philosophy behind them. I started from scratch because I had no idea what ‘polyamory’ was. She explained it.

We had some long discussions that were learning experiences for me, and I tried to internalize that concept. I’d only ever know a monogamous, exclusive couple in a relationship. I rapidly learned about other models.

The fraternity had a toga party two weekends later - our first real blast of the school year. We were famous on campus for this annual party. The reputation was well deserved and had the word ‘wild’ in it. The Pixie and I planned our costumes and even visited a couple of stores to get just the right laurel wreath crowns and sandals to go with our toga sheets.

The frat party was a scene right out of the movie ‘Animal House’. The Pixie threw herself into the whole scene and late in the evening became the party’s focus. As the drinking escalated and the live band got louder and raunchier, various female ‘guests’ dropped their tops or abandoned their togas all-together. While none went completely nude, the sight of several dozen naked gyrating breasts on the dance floor became a scene locked in my memory forever.

The Pixie decided not to exclude our fellow revelers from the sight of her own spectacular breasts. Thus, as the band rolled into the thirty-fourth verse of ‘Louie Louie’, Mel slipped the top of her toga off her shoulder exposing her luscious taut breasts to the other dancers. She was in front of the band and there was a sudden lull in the music before the beat was re-established. The pause made everyone look to the dance floor to see what was happening.

Mel swung her long blonde hair and body around the dance floor. She showed complete abandon as we danced - hands in the air, body gyrating, and boobs swinging around like dangerous weapons. Various eyeballs started to pop out of their sockets from all the guys and even the gals around us and soon the dance area was packed with my fraternity brothers not to mention their dates. Everyone cheered and applauded as Mel shimmied and shook her ‘pair’. She was onstage and loved it. No other female could even begin to compare to the spectacular tits Mel had revealed.

More than one brother patted me on the back and told me I was the luckiest guy in the world to have access to such wonders. In the meantime, Mel continued to dance wildly allowing hand after hand to stroke her breasts so long as it didn’t upset her dance routine. I rocked along beside her if only to keep her going rather than becoming a solo act that I feared would make her stop. I was clearly a superfluous body in the throbbing throng of dancers.

Later, Mel pulled me off the dance floor and up to my study room in the frat house. We made out for a while, I sucked on and made love to her breasts, and she gave me another hand job. After we cooled down, I walked her back to the freshman dorm and we promised to see each other the next afternoon.

I did not live in the fraternity house, but I had a desk there. I had a small apartment adjacent to the campus. I told Mel that when she was ready to see it, we could go there. She told me that she’d be tempted to do things she’d regret, so that ceased to be an option of places to go for us.

Sunday afternoon, I picked Mel up and took her off campus to a mall where we had lunch and walked around shopping. We held hands.

Mel finally asked with a licentious grin, “Did it bother you seeing me dance half naked at the party last night?”

I thought for a bit and answered, “No, but you took me by surprise. I was a bit fogged last night from the beer, but even this morning I think of the whole night as exciting and sexy. You were the peak of that excitement, as you always are for me. I hope you aren’t having regrets? You sure were entertaining.” I laughed at my understatement.

“No, not at all. I was afraid that today you might think less of me. Personally, I thought it was a rush. Besides so many other girls were going topless. You know I danced topless, even naked, in Africa many times when I lived there. It’s fun. There it was tribal and I was unique in many ways, but tried to fit in.”

“I thought seeing you do that in public was a rush too. I guess I like having an exhibitionist girlfriend and certainly one that is as gorgeous and as ‘different’ as you are.”

“Oh goody,” the Pixie said with certainty, “I’ll do some more ‘displays’ of my body sometime.” She pushed herself up into my face and kissed me wantonly. The PDA in the mall was just her cup of tea for that moment.

I went on more seriously, “I have question for you, Pixie. I’m really falling for you and I’d like to go steady - to give you my fraternity pin. This would make us, well, engaged to be engaged. I think you’re the most fabulous person I’ve ever met and … well, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Before I could go any further, Mel led me over to an out of the way bench in a side corridor of the mall. As she did, she spoke softly, “Doug, I like you - a lot - a whole lot. I really do. However, I’m not going to accept your offer and I feel I need to explain a little more about how I feel - my philosophy about life and relationships. Some of this you know because we talked about before.

“I like our times together and I want them to continue but I need to date other guys and party my pretty little ass off while I’m in college - or at least for a couple of years of it anyway. If you can humor me we can see how it all plays out. In the meantime, I don’t want either of us to feel locked into anything - ever; even after college if we’re still seeing each other. You should be doing the same thing - mess around with a lot of girls and not just me.”

She paused and studied the look on my face, “This isn’t a rejection of you and, Lord knows, it’s certainly not that I don’t have strong feelings for you. It’s the way I grew up. For me, life and love aren’t about exclusive relationships. Maybe it’s just because I’m such a contrarian. I’d probably feel at home in a commune, but that age past us by and besides, parts of that life style were too laid back for me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever settle down and be anyone’s exclusive spouse. Maybe I’m doomed to have to live with the results of this errant way of thinking. I just can’t imagine an exclusive, monogamous relationship as something I’d ever be in.” She looked at me with large and sympathetic doe eyes that signaled to me that she loved me in her own way.

I nodded. I’d expected the rejection based on her earlier comments. I’d tried to make things go too fast. I remember thinking that in the past she’d left the door open for things to change in the future. I could have been heartbroken over her refusal, but instead I felt relief that the issue had been breached and resolved - at least temporarily.

She held my hand tightly and continued, “I like our sexy times together. I want them to not only continue but also to escalate and become more exciting and sexy for each of us. This may surprise you, given how I act sometimes, but I’m not exceptionally experienced sexually; and as you know from our talks I’m also not a virgin. That said I’ve learned a few things about good sexual relationships over the past couple of years - by doing a little and by reading a lot.” She paused and added, “And now you will too. We both will.”

“Huh?” I responded not fully understanding her last couple of sentences.

“What I’m trying to say is you need to learn how to make me happy - how to make any woman happy sexually. Put another way, if I’m going to be one of your ‘girlfriends’ then you are going to have to become one of the ‘best boyfriends’ in the world. I only deserve the best.” Mel grinned at her self-serving statement.

“What’s that mean?” I asked out of pure innocence. “Lots of practice?” I said hopefully.

“That too,” she said emphatically with a chuckle, “But it means you have another course to study this year - ‘Sex 101’ taught by yours truly, and I’ll be learning right along with you. Somehow, I think you’ll end up a winner just as I will.”

“Sounds like the best course on campus,” I teased, trying to remove any tension from the air.

She grinned and said, “It might be; however, you have some tough homework to wade through. I just bought us these books while you were buying those CDs and I want you to read them over the next couple of weeks and we’ll discuss parts of it. You’ll be tested on its content.” She grinned lecherously at me.

The Pixie shot me her warmest smile and I melted. She reached her small hand into a bag from Barnes & Nobel and pulled out a copy of Tell Me What You Want by Justin Lehmiller, and then a second book entitled 365 Sex Positions. She passed then to me. I flipped through a few of the pages, amazed at seeing several rather explicit pictures of a modern couple making love in different positions.

“Mel,” I asked cautiously, “Am I a bad lover? Have I done something wrong? Gone too fast? Too slow?” I suddenly felt a tremendous sense of inferiority wash over me. I stammered, “I have wanted to make love to you since I met you at freshmen orientation, but I’ve been taking it slow. I didn’t want to …”

“No, no, no!” she declared as she hugged me and pecked my lips. “Nothing like that. It’s just that we’re going to make love one of these days - real soon - and I want us to know what we’re doing - what we’re both doing to and for each other and why. We can bring a lot more pleasure to each other if we understand what’s in this book. I don’t want to just have sex; I want to make love and create orgasmic peaks we’ll remember forever.” She stretched out the word ‘love’ to add great emphasis.

She went on, “My parents gave me a book called The Joy of Sex by Alex Comfort. That is what I used about six years ago to learn about sex. My parents had a copy and I’d read it when they went out. I think they actually left it around so I’d find it. I would have bought that, but the store didn’t have a copy. You should get a copy of that too.”

“And if I do this it will make you happy?” I asked tentatively looking deep in her blue eyes. My emotions were all a tumble at the moment. After all, Mel had just practically guaranteed that we’d make love soon, yet signaled me that she expected me to be inadequate without some major improvements to my education.

“Yes,” she said with emphasis. She looked around to be sure no one could see us, then pulled her loose top down to expose one breast to me for a second. She gave me a lecherous grin.

“Then I’ll definitely do it.” I paused and reached for the breast that quickly disappeared before my hand got to it. Mel swatted my hand away with a wicked little laugh. I told her, “I’ll do it because I love you and want good things to happen between us - for a long time, like forever.”

I guess that was the right thing to say because Mel jumped into my arms and we created a further noteworthy public display of affection right there in the mall. No one seemed to mind as we hugged and kissed each other. We did manage to keep our clothes on.

I did resolve that afternoon to become the best lover that Mel could possibly find. I wasn’t a virgin, but intuitively I knew I was probably like most other chumps when it came to fucking. I would be different. I would become so different that I’d be her lover of choice. If she dated and had sex with some other man, she’d find him woefully inadequate compared to what I could deliver to her.

That was a high bar that I was setting for myself, but there was no doubt but that if I wanted the Pixie, then this was one more route to her heart.

My feelings for Mel might have been tempered by the fact that I was irrationally falling in love and had subconsciously adopted the position that she could do no wrong. Yet, I carefully examined Mel’s philosophy about relationships and tested over and over again whether I could live with them.

Once home, I read more about polyamorous relationships and the underlying tenets that had to be in place to have them work well. I guess we’d find out how adaptable I could become.

I called my sister Kara and talked to her about Mel’s philosophy. She was Mel’s age yet had been raised in the same conservative home as I was. Kara brushed the whole thing off, declaring it just part of the ‘any philosophy goes’ part of kids our age. Thus, in the end, I decided I’d try to adapt to whatever situation and philosophy that Mel conjured up.

I read the books from cover to cover over the next three days - some parts twice or even three times. I also had a mail-order copy of The Joy of Sex sent to me. Each day, I read or re-read a chapter in each of the books she gave me. I’d also study a few pages in the sex positions book, carefully noting the pros and cons of each.

Of course, I also had to read some textbook chapters in social psychology, master fifty new Spanish words and verb conjugations, as well and do a term paper explaining activity-based cost accounting principles. I found myself operating in a high-performance mode I didn’t know I was capable of thanks to Mel.

I didn’t see Mel during the week but we talked by phone a couple of days and made a date to spend Saturday together. Thursday when we talked on the telephone she suggested that we stay together overnight into Sunday at a ‘nice’ place but not my apartment. Her tone of voice and innuendo to our conversation left no doubt about the wild sexual activities we’d be engaged in every moment we’d be together overnight. I started sporting a perpetual hard-on because I couldn’t stop thinking about the coming weekend. I was thinking of sex all the time, not just once every five seconds.

I smacked myself on the head a few times, reminding myself of the old adage, ‘Men think of sex, and women think of love’. Thus, I adjusted my thinking to be Mel’s ‘lover’ rather than merely her ‘sex partner’.

I had never ‘shacked up’ with anyone before. I wasn’t a virgin yet I’d had few opportunities to copulate in my short, happy life. The previous summer I’d had steady sex for a month with an old high school girlfriend while her parents were in Europe. She had a boyfriend a thousand miles away near where she was going to college so didn’t want to get serious, so we became ‘fuck buddies’ for the month before she left to go back to college. Prior to that month I could have counted the times I’d had intercourse on fingers and toes - mostly fingers.

I looked around for a motel that would be an economic compromise between the Ritz Carlton and the ‘No-Tel Motel’ that specialized in the hot sheet trade. I couldn’t afford the former, by far, and worried that the latter would make Mel feel cheap and unappreciated. Thus, I settled on an acceptable Holiday Inn out by the Interstate. Saturday morning I drove out, registered and got our room keys. I got us a room adjacent to their pool. I also left a couple of little presents for Mel on the pillow of the king-size bed in the room. Not only did the Holiday Inn have a nice room but also a heated pool, exercise room and a nice restaurant.

Emotionally, I had high expectations for the afternoon and night. Mel had not said anything about commitment or exclusivity, yet I found myself joyous with any arrangement that involved the two of us. I wondered if I might win her over if I could prove that I’d mastered some parts of the books she’d given me. I even allowed myself time to scan the books one last time that Saturday morning. I reminded myself to be suave, not to rush things, and to be a lover rather than a fucker.

I picked Mel up at noon. She had a small bag in addition to her large purse. I carried my shaving kit, my bathing suit and a couple of clothing items in a small duffle bag. I also had two-dozen condoms; I was armed for a ‘big’ weekend. Mel looked very athletic in a pink exercise suit with an aqua top on beneath the unzipped jacket. She had her pretty blond hair pulled back in a ponytail with the tail pulled through the back of a Red Sox baseball cap. She was from the Boston area.

Based on my initial reading of the Joy of Sex, instead of racing to the motel and attempting to pummel her lovely body with mine, I wisely drove us into the countryside to a nice little inn that sat beside a wide river.

We had a leisurely lunch on the deck of the place and watched a few canoes float by from time to time. We talked about our classes, parents, and hopes for summer jobs, and dozens of other things. I found Mel fascinating and her opinions and ideas really interested me. Every time that I was with her, I learned many things. She also had a way of challenging my thinking.

Since she leaned forward and seemed to hang on my every word too, I guess the feeling was mutual. I felt her eyes often peering deep into my soul, almost in examination of my inner most feelings. Was I worthy of her? Would I make the cut? Was this relationship worth pursuing?

I ignored the inner voices of insecurity and after lunch suggested a swim and some late season sun at the motel. Mel liked that idea. Thirty minutes later, carrying both our bags, I escorted her into our motel room.

Mel gave a little clap of her hands and a little jump of joy when she saw the flowers and book of sappy poetry I’d left on the pillow. The Joy of Sex had been right about little gifts as a quintessential part of foreplay.

I thought I was laying it on a bit thick but Mel didn’t seem to think so. She threw herself into my arms and kissed me passionately. Our tongues dueled together for a short time before Mel pulled away and said, “Oh, Doug, let’s read some of the poems to each other while we sit beside the pool.”

I quickly agreed. Mel disappeared into the small bathroom with her overnight bag much to my disappointment. I quickly changed into my swim trunks and waited at the door with two towels from the rack in the room and the poetry book in hand.

Mel appeared from the bathroom in her swimsuit. My jaw dropped open and my tongue instantly lolled out the side of my mouth. I’m sure I also started to drool. The Pixie wore a little pink bikini that couldn’t have been much bigger than three postage stamps arranged strategically over her body by a few pieces of pink string. Her tight little buns were fully exposed by the G-string thong; a small patch of hot pink Lycra barely covered her mons and vagina area. Mel’s magnificent breasts and large areolas were barely encased by two small triangles of the same slick, hot pink fabric, and her slightly erect nipples were already evident as they pressed through the fabric.

Mel apparently liked my response to her suit, because she came and kissed me hotly again as our bodies pressed into each other’s. When she finished and pulled away, I had a good start on an erection and briefly worried about being seen with it outside the room until I realized that no one seeing us would look any further than the Pixie’s pink bathing suit - what little there was of it - and all her lovely skin.

We went out our room’s exterior door to the pool to the patio and stretched out in the warm slanting rays of the mid-October afternoon sun. One other couple appeared to be dozing at the other end of the pool from where we sat. Mel pointed at the book of romantic poems that I’d brought. I hadn’t read poetry aloud since high school but knew if I wanted to score big with the Pixie I’d better relearn how to do it - fast and with deep meaning. I slowly opened the book to the first page and turned to Mel. She rolled towards me on her lounge chair, one breast falling out completely from its meager support; she tucked the nipple back into hiding and grinned briefly at me. This was already a fun experience.

I started reading slowly and with import from the book: “If I could have just one wish, …” The first poem was short and sappy but I poured my heart into it, looking up often and deep into the Pixie’s blue-green eyes. She looked back at me with an adoring expression. My heart melted every time she looked at me like that.

As I finished the last line - “Knowing that I could never find that feeling with anyone other than you,” Mel got up on her knees on her lounger, her taut breasts swinging down from her chest into the small scraps of material meant to encase them, leaned over and kissed me firmly on the lips.

“Read another,” she said to me in a husky voice. She was turned-on like I’d never seen before.

We both knew we were taunting each other. Now there was no doubt where the afternoon would end or what we’d soon be doing. Nonetheless, we both opted, at least temporarily, for this time of romance rather than lust.

I started another poem from the book after scanning two or three before selecting one; “Your lips speak soft sweetness, your touch a cool caress, …” I went on with this longer poem as Mel now hung on my every word again.

I finished and she whispered, “Another.” She was a junky for this stuff, and I kind of liked it too. Her wish was my command. I read several more poems to her, each more romantic and sensual then the previous one. I was glad I’d spent so much time in the bookstore looking for just the right poetry book.

She kissed me again when I finished the fifth poem. This time she said, “Put the book down and let’s swim.” She stood and stretched, her magnificent body reflecting the sun’s rays. My chubby popped up again.

I rose and we held hands and walked into the tepid water. Once we were submerged I suddenly had the Pixie’s body tight against mine again. The difference this time was that one of her hands now grasped my rapidly hardening penis through my swim trunks.

“Oh, Mel,” I whispered so no one else could hear, “If you do that, I’ll have an accident right here. I’m really hot - and hard - for you right now and it won’t take much for me to cum.”

Mel grinned as she let go then thrust her tongue into my mouth. When she pulled away, she said, “Nice pool. The bed looked nice too. I think it’s time to try out the bed. Maybe we can swim again later.”

I grinned back and we turned around and exited the pool after our short swim. We dried off with the towels I’d brought and sauntered back to our room as though neither of us were in a rush. I locked the door and drew the curtain so anyone passing by couldn’t see in. When I turned around Mel stood naked with her arms outstretched to me. I quickly lost my suit. We were both still damp.

This first view of Mel’s body in its full naked splendor stopped me in my tracks. Every part of her body had a gentle curve leading to an erogenous zone or two or three: her beautiful face and features, a slender neck, her impeccably shaped legs and hips, a flat stomach, a shaved pussy with a small tuft of hair as decoration, and then her magnificent breasts. And best of all, this beautiful young woman wanted me!

“Make love to me,” she said in a voice tinged with innocence. She held her arms up in a tender and welcoming gesture. This was also the first time I’d heard her use the ‘L’ word with reference to me. My heart did some those little flippity-flops again; Mel loved me.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I retorted softly as I moved to her, gently picked her up in my arms, and set her in the middle of the bed, my hard-on bouncing around in the air.

I immediately kissed Mel many times then dropped a little lower and romanced her shoulders and then her breasts, bringing her nipples to a high state of excitement. My next move was to run my tongue down her body, encircling her pubic area and then approaching from below with my tongue - up one leg and then the other. I made sure to take my time and not rush into ‘ground zero’. My readings about foreplay from the Joy of Sex played in my head as I stroked, licked, smoothed, teased, and caressed her body. My hands, fingers, and tongue were everywhere at once.

Mel might have cum from the first touch of my tongue to her clit. I confess I did take aim at the right area before ensuring that a wide and sensuous lick by me would touch that and all surrounding ‘right’ areas. Apparently, I did.

Mel blurted out as she started panting, “Oh, shit, you are good. Do THAT some more - a lot more.” I did, getting my tongue deeper into her pussy and exploring more of the little nooks and crannies and interesting flaps of skin that she had. We both seemed to like me sucking her loose lips into my mouth and toying with them.

Somewhere along the line I added a couple of fingers. I made a couple of thrusts into her with my fingers as my tongue lapped at her clitoris. Mel suddenly grabbed my head in a near vice-like grip and slammed it against her juicy area so hard that I couldn’t move. She was moaning so loud that I thought someone would call the police.

The Pixie’s orgasm pleased me. I’d read in depth about them in one of the books, and now I actually produced the kind I wanted for my Love - a nice, mind-blowing, earth-shaking orgasm of about Richter 7. Mel moaned going into it and as she clutched my head to her nether region she actually started to purr.

“Oh, Doug,” she expounded as she released the pressured grip she’d had on my head, “You are so special.” She stroked my hair in a very affectionate manner.

Rather than say anything I lapped up her slit again. She jerked and twitched in response.

Suddenly she pushed me away and announced; “Now it’s your turn. What would you like me to do? A blowjob?” She pulled me up to bed so we could kiss again.

I moved up beside Mel’s shapely body, kissed her lips, and in a romantic tone told her, “No, I’ve wanted to make love to you from the moment I met you. I just want to be the best lover you’ve ever had buried in your pussy in a way that brings us both pleasure - and in a way that lets you know how much I love you.” I reached onto the bedside table and retrieved a condom, quickly rolling it onto my erect pole.

As I moved to come over Mel, she pushed me onto my back and straddled my hips. She wanted to be on top, and I liked that idea too. She reached down and took my engorged cock and ran it back and forth along her soaking slit, lubricating my cockhead. She then positioned me at the entrance to her vagina and slowly lowered her excited body onto my rigid cock, her warmth slowly enveloping me until every inch of my tool resided deep in her body. How someone as petite as she could absorb so much cock and not noticeably swell mystified me. As her body sucked in my rod, she closed her eyes clearly entering a state of ecstasy.

I instantly knew that I would cum in mere seconds due to the sensations and eroticism of these first moments so sweet. I could feel her pussy pulsating around my meat. “Mel,” I said, “I’m not going to have any staying power this first time.”

“Just cum in me,” she said. “Do it, right now. I’m there too. Oh, wow …”

We made about ten long strokes together, each propelling me closer and closer to an unavoidable explosion. Mel reached down and started to massage her clit as I made the last few strokes into her.

Then the weeks and weeks of dreaming and fantasizing became reality. I’d fallen in love with the Pixie and now could make love to her. I came, hard, thrusting up into her body with my hose jetting a stream of cum into her body, stopped only by the prophylactic.

Mel came too amid another round of moans and huge sighs. She then sagged onto my chest in her afterglow, her naked and full breasts pushing against my naked chest. We kissed and tongued at each other in those first minutes of appreciation for our initial union.

Twenty minutes later, after pawing and cooing at each other constantly, Mel lay beneath me imploring me to fuck her harder. Her heels were on my shoulders, as I did indeed pound into her ripe pussy at the pace and intensity she apparently wanted. This time we didn’t rush and I didn’t feel the urge to cum prematurely. I was hopeful not to end our lovemaking session until I’d brought the Pixie to untold heights of sexual ecstasy and more orgasms than any woman had ever had in one lovemaking session.

We often paused and looked deep into each other’s eyes, ensuring as we went that we were pleasing our partner. Often we smiled in our happiness, urging the other to continue just what they were doing. My heart ached with love for this woman.

We rolled around the large bed trying different positions and enjoying each other and the different sensations each afforded before moving on to the next. Mel particularly liked the doggie position and the woman on top, she told me later. In the former, my cock stroked against her G-spot more than in other orientations and she came twice in the period of two minutes. In the latter, we both enjoyed that she had some of the control and I could reach up and fondle and love her breasts - and her - more effectively.

When I blasted my load this time, we’d been at it for almost an hour and were exhausted. We fell together side by side as I cradled her head against my shoulder. We both snoozed for a half hour or so. When I awoke, Mel was staring into my eyes with a very happy look on her face. We kissed and snuggled into each other.

With breaks only for dinner and a daring midnight swim in the nude in the nearby motel pool, we fucked most of the night and into the next morning. When we weren’t fucking I was exploring new ways to bring the Pixie to a state of orgasmic bliss with mouth, tongue, and fingers.

After a late brunch in the dining room at the Holiday Inn, we both declared we were too tired to try anything new. Mel also complimented me on my lovemaking and told me the money she’d spent on the books may have turned out to be the best investment she’d ever make. She told me that any test of my sexual prowess or right to earn her favors had been passed with flying colors.

We checked out of the motel and drove back to campus. Regrettably both of us had schoolwork to attend to lest one or both us screw up our mid-term exams. Further, we both reluctantly yet humorously admitted to each other that we were sore and might need a day or so to recover.

Chapter 3 - First Date with Joy

The next couple of months were a blur. I’d really fallen for Mel. I pledged my love several more times, and she reiterated that she loved me, but wasn’t the kind of girl to go steady - at least right now, if ever. If I brought up the subject she’d reaffirm her independent status and even go so far as to encourage me to date other girls.

Several times Mel made it clear than she was going on or had gone on other dates, but that she still wanted the ‘deep relationship’ we were developing as her ‘primary’ one. I accepted her vocabulary and wishes, and for some reason didn’t react too badly with jealousy about her other dates.

I also was sure that Mel was testing my resolve to accept her as a ‘primary’ partner that also had other dates. I shrugged and continued to get used to the idea. I had the feeling that this would go on for a long time.

I did go on a date with a co-ed in my accounting class. Her name was Patti Jaye. I thought she’d be very conservative, but after we were in my car after our dinner, she jumped my bones. She tried to touch my dick with her tongue as we French kissed, blew me for a bit, took her top off so I could suck on her breasts, and then mounted me for a long fuck. Fortunately, I had a rubber in my pocket.

I distinguished myself with Patti as a knowledgeable and attentive lover that could deliver multiple orgasms to her in multiple ways. I think I rose to the top of her list of ‘great dates’ on just that one date.

Patti was an interesting contrast to Mel. I figured out that life with her would be highly traditional, and with Mel not so much. Patti and I remained friends and did have other dates. I think she wanted to be fuck buddies, which worked out fine with me.

Most of the time when Mel and I got together we were sexually active. Sometimes that just meant that we petted like crazy in the car in the city park and brought each other off; other times we spent the night together somewhere and screwed until we ran out of energy.

Over the Christmas break I drove from my home in Ohio to Mel’s home in Massachusetts to be with her and meet her parents. We spent New Year’s Eve in Boston at their First Night celebration. Planned or not, we somehow found ‘alone time’ every day I was at her house and were able to fuck our brains out for at least a short time each day. Two days after New Year’s, we drove back to the Ohio State campus together, spending an overnight at a beautiful hotel just outside of Pittsburgh.

While Mel had encouraged me to date other people, since I’d met her I’d only gone on two dates and had not felt any romantic hormones raging in my loins except for Mel. I did continue to hone the skills I’d learned from the Joy of Sex, the other books, and our ‘practice’ sessions. Mel knew this and with great intent changed that about a week after classes restarted.

“I want you to take my roommate out,” Mel told me one Sunday as we were walking along snow-dusted sidewalks back to her dorm from the campus library.

“But I like taking you out,” I told her.

“And, she needs to go on a date with you - to get to know the ‘real you’ she’s heard so much about.”

“You mean you kiss and tell,” I asked jovially. We’d never broached the subject of what we told other people about our relationship or activities. I found myself surprised that she talked about the two of us then realized that was probably pretty normal for two women. Personally, I’d said little about the Pixie to any of my friends or fraternity brothers. I had sought some advice a couple of times from my sister but she was then a thousand miles away at a college in a warmer clime, and of little help at this stage in our friendship.

“Yes,” she replied with a smirk.

“What’s that mean?” I inquired.

“It means that she’d have expectations on a date about you showing her some of the finer points about The Joy of Sex. The poor girl only went on one coffee date all of last semester and she’s nice. She’s pretty, has a nice personality, a great body - which you’ll really enjoy, but she’s terminally shy. She might even be a virgin.”

“Are you pimping me out?” I asked in jest as I tried to duck the question and think up some way to avoid where Mel was leading me.

“Yes, and you’ll like it. How about next Saturday? I’ll even pay for the Holiday Inn; just don’t tell her I paid. She needs to get laid. It’ll change her whole outlook on life, and believe me I know.”

“Your offer to pay insults my sense of chivalry. Besides, I’d rather be with you next Saturday.”

Mel said, “You can’t. I already have a date - so there. Bill Seaborn is driving me to Indianapolis on Saturday so we can watch the Pacers play. We’re staying over.”

I felt like a small truck had just hit me in the chest. My whole face and body probably faded to nearly pure white in shock. I tried to macho my way through the next couple of minutes before we parted company for the day. I immediately acted pensive, as though I was thinking about whether to take her roommate out. Mel studied me as we walked.

I’d met Joy, Mel’s roommate, many times over the past four months. She occasionally joined us for lunch or coffee at the Union. Mel was right, she did indeed please the eye but seemed intensely shy and for the first few months I’d known her, when I’d started dating Mel, she’d barely said two words to me except about school stuff. More recently, she’d opened up a little and once or twice got quite chatty over our lunches. I liked her but had never thought of her in a sexual way or even as a date. I felt no chemistry.

As we neared her dorm, Mel pushed me harder in a direction my thinking had never been in. She seemed to have insight into what I was thinking and the hurt I felt about her going out with someone else.

“Doug, I know you think you want exclusivity in our relationship, and I also know you know I don’t - at least not now, if ever. To me, that kind of commitment and exclusivity imply ownership and I don’t want to be a chattel.

“I’m my own person, with unconventional standards about relationships. I want to be accepted and valued that way. I think I’ll be a better person if I’m open to see other people - on any basis. That’s why I accepted this date with Bill and why I’m telling you. I want you to know about it, not to hurt you but to get you to date too - to experience other people, to reach out, to like - even love - others. I know you had fun with Patti; do more of that. I also want you to date Joy. I’m not a ‘pin-me-down’ kind of girl, so no guilt trips on me, okay? I’m the way I am.”

I nodded stoically as we started walking again. My brain raced but it seemed like the wheels were spinning but there was no traction. Mel’s logic seemed obvious to me for some reason, yet I couldn’t seem to get used to her idea on a permanent basis.

As an imp on one shoulder told me that, the imp on the other shoulder was yelling at me to run for the hills and telling me that I would always suffer unwanted shocks and trouble with Mel if I stayed in the relationship.

Mel continued as though she heard those voices, “I don’t want us to break-up; far from it. I’ve already got a lot invested in you as you do in me. Why don’t you try to adopt the same philosophy and I’ll try to meet you halfway. The past few months we’ve been each other’s primary relationship - a home base, so to speak - even though I never phrased it that way. Let’s continue this way, to date and learn about each other and advance whatever it is we have for each other to new levels. In the meantime, let’s both be completely open and free with other people.”

I asked in a slightly glum voice, “Is this the beginning of an ‘open marriage’? I heard a few other people refer to their relationships this way.” The one imp was telling me what a bad idea that was.

“Exactly,” Mel responded, ignoring my grumpy tone of voice. “I want you to go out with others. I want you to explore other people - see how they think, how they tick, and even how they make love. Bring that back to our relationship and share it. We’ll both be richer for it.

“And you’ll do the same?” I asked with some angst in my voice. I paused as we walked and looked at her.

“Yes, I will,” Mel said softly but firmly; she reached up and stroked my cheek with her warm hand. “As little or as much as you want to know, but I won’t malevolently hold back anything from you - even if I think it would hurt you. I’ll offer it all to you. I do love you.”

There was the ‘L’ word again and my heart went flippity-flop again. She loved me but wanted this unique brand of boy-girl relationship, something I’d never encountered before. She loved me but would see other people. She loved me and wanted me to see other people. Her philosophy was still all so new to me and didn’t follow any model that I’d learned about mating.

“Would you share all the details about your trip with Bill?” I asked in a taunting voice, emphasizing the word ‘all’ and not expecting the response I got.

Mel got very quiet for a moment then said, “Yes, with you, I will.” She came around in front of me and leaned up and kissed me. Then she said, “You don’t understand yet, do you?” She looked into my eyes in the dim light and said, “Go on the date with Joy and then let’s talk. I think you’ll start to get the feeling of why I am the way I am. And even why I love you.”

I thought for a long moment as we stood and hugged then I told her in a slightly more upbeat voice, “Okay. I’ll take Joy out and try to be the perfect date - sex and all. That’s what you want?”

Mel nodded and hugged me with gratitude.

The imp that had been warning me was jumping around happily. ‘Good, you’re on your way out from all the trouble that girl would have caused you.’

I felt awkward and clearly moving in a direction for which there was no map. In one way, I didn’t like the idea of Mel going off with someone else, yet in another sense I did. I wanted to be with her, and yet the idea of taking Joy on the kind of date Mel described was tantalizing, particularly when the instigator of the date was my girlfriend.

“Should I call her or are you the intermediary?” I asked in a neutral voice.

“You call her when you get back home. That’ll give me just enough time to talk to her briefly.” She paused and added, “And trust me, you’ll have a great time and I want you to bring all your raging hormones to her doorstep - and beyond. Oh, and I want to hear all the details - from both of you.” She grinned lecherously at me.

I gave her a funny look and frowned, somewhat uncertain as to what she meant by her comment about my raging hormones.

Mel looked at me with a grin and said, “Fuck her brains out, stupid!”

* * * * *

About an hour later I called Joy’s cellphone. Mel had been sure I had the number. Joy answered the phone and I pretended that I was pleased. We both knew my call was a bit of charade and we both knew we were being aimed at a weekend fuck fest at the Holiday Inn starring just the two of us with my girlfriend playing matchmaker.

Nonetheless, I politely asked for a date for Saturday night, suggesting in an oblique aside that perhaps we’d stay overnight somewhere and that it’d be great if she could bring an overnight kit and her swim suit as I planned to find a place to stay that had an indoor pool.

Joy accepted in a low key, tentative, and very shy voice. I detected a shudder in her voice that indicated a rather nervous acceptance. I ignored the tremor and told her I looked forward to our date and that we’d see each other before then and plan the details and my time to pick her up on Saturday.

Strangely enough, Mel and I went out every night the rest of the week and Friday when we went out we managed to even fuck in the backseat of my car while parked in a remote section of city park. Mel still didn’t want to see my apartment. That week we never mentioned our respective dates until I was dropping Mel off after our passionate interlude.

“Doug,” Mel whispered to me as we sat in the car just before she went into the dorm, “Please have fun with Joy. Don’t think about what Bill and I are doing. Do your own thing and be good - be very good … and be patient with her. I love her, and I know that you are what she needs. You’ll see; and when you allow yourself to get closer to her you’ll love her too.” She smiled warmly at me, kissed me and disappeared into the dorm.

I nodded, reluctantly resigned to perform the role she’d assigned to me.

* * * * *

I picked up Joy about two o’clock on Saturday afternoon. She had a very large duffle bag with her and I had my usual small overnight bag. As I did with the Pixie, I’d driven out to the motel in the morning, pre-registered and gotten our room keys. I’d even left flowers and a different book of poetry on the pillow for her.

When we got to the room, Joy had a combination of embarrassment and shyness over the flowers and book of poems. She was very grateful. She actually blushed so much that her whole face looked flushed. She allowed me to come and hug her yet we didn’t kiss. We’d never kissed - yet.

I’d worked myself up to a state of excitement about our overnight. Yet, in those brief moments as I watched her blush, I wondered if this was the right thing to be doing with someone so shy. Mel had been so convincing that all her roommate needed was a serious date, yet now I wondered whether this might be a bad idea in terms of Joy’s psyche and self-esteem. Mel was probably forcing her to go on this date, probably with more effort that she spent talking me into taking her.

I’d lured Joy out to the motel ostensibly on the excuse that they had a winterized pool. In fact, it was a low budget operation. The pool was heated but the motel had erected a large inflatable dome over the outdoor pool. The dome was not attached to the motel so to get to the pool you had to go in the outside air and then through a sort of air lock in the side of the bubble dome. Once inside, the whole place was warmer but smelled like chlorine and I expected to be a blond by the time we finished our swim. In any case, we decided to start our time together with a swim.

After we dropped our bags in the room, we did a quick change of clothes. Joy used the bathroom to change into her suit and came out in a demure one-piece suit that clung rather nicely to her curves yet didn’t reveal very much. She had nice looking legs and curves in all the right spots. For a moment I tried to decide whether the term ‘busty’ could be used to describe her. She was on the edge of that term.

Joy stood about five foot six inches tall and had luxurious long dark brunette hair that hung down her back past her shoulders. She also wore glasses with pointy frames - not the best shape for her pretty face and a throwback to pictures of girls I’d seen from the 1950s. Overall, she had the appearance of a nerd, except at the moment she was wearing this hot bathing suit on her equally hot body.

We took some towels and opened the exterior door to go across the patio to the door to the pool. The outside air temperature was about ten degrees and I’m sure my body temperature dropped to that temp in the thirty feet we sprinted to the door into the tented pool. Screaming about the cold, we burst into the pool’s bubble dome to find we were alone in the pool area. At least we were both laughing at the chilly situation we’d put ourselves in.

I shed my shoes and dipped a toe in the pool. Although heavy with the smell of chlorine the pool did have the perfect temperature. I could actually dive in and neither feel it was an overheated bathtub, nor an ice bath.

“The temp is perfect,” I told Joy. She smiled at me and took off her Nikes, and headed for the stairs into the pool.

I took a shallow dive from the deep end of the pool staying underwater and enjoying the drifting sensation as I slowly glided towards the shallow end and Joy.

I surfaced about ten feet in front of her just as she took the last step in the pool. She was still dry from the waist up but dipped down in slow increments until she’d submerged up to her neck, most of her hair still dry.

I walked over to her, helped her stand and turned her to me. I whispered to her, “Joy, we’ve never kissed and I think it’s time.”

She nodded shyly and allowed me to kiss her lips a couple of times. She didn’t kiss back and was stiff as a board. After the fourth kiss I verified that she was just presenting her lips to me but was not participating. She had her eyes clenched closed.

“I think you’re supposed to kiss me back,” I told her in a soft voice. With this pretty friend I could have infinite patience.

“I’m sort of scared,” came the timid reply as she opened her eyes and looked down into the water between us.

I thought for a moment then said, “Try this. Kiss me.”

I stood motionless and locked my jaw and pursed my lips into a frozen state. Joy kissed me and it wasn’t half bad except I didn’t respond. We pulled apart and she gave me a funny look.

“You didn’t do anything,” she observed.

I said, “Right. When two people kiss they’re supposed to get into the act together, otherwise there’s no feedback, no feeling of affection, emotion, or passion, and no appreciation that you’re glad we’re together, no hint that it could go further. I feel all these things for you, by the way.”

“I’m so nervous,” Joy said flatly.

“Come here,” I said and pulled her into my arms in a loose embrace. She was about as stiff as a plank of wood. I kissed her forehead and said, “You will be the only person putting pressure on yourself on this date. I’m at your service. We don’t have to kiss or go any further than have a nice swim and maybe have some dinner together, if you’re willing. If the thought of our date horrifies you, I can take you back to the dorm whenever you want - right now even.” I gestured back at our room.

“Oh, No!” Joy exclaimed immediately in near a panic tone, as her head jerked up at me. “I want … well, Mel said … I have to … Oh, damn, I’m so nervous. Just give me a while and I’ll get used to all this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Screw what Mel said. This about what YOU want, and not what MEL thinks you should be doing. Please don’t let her pressure you into something that you’re not ready for. She can be very dominating at times. Use this time while she’s away to examine your own needs and intentions.”

Joy wrapped her arms around me and we stood there hugging. Finally, she looked up into my face and we kissed - really kissed. This time the kiss had some feeling and romance in it. Our lips were pliant and soft for one another and there was some motion as our bodies snuggled into each other.

We hugged and kissed some more standing there then on one of our kisses I gently pushed my tongue into her mouth. She welcomed me with her tongue, dueling with mine for a moment. I pulled back to see if she liked what we’d done. She smiled and we kissed again. With tentative moves her tongue snaked into my mouth and I sucked on it gently. Joy moaned. The French kisses were certainly arousing.

During one of our breaks for air, Joy said, “I’ve never French kissed before this. Actually, I’ve only kissed two other boys. I guess you can tell, huh?”

I rubbed her arm in a gentle way. I told her softly, “I’m here to bring you pleasure and joy. You draw the boundaries. And, right now you are doing just fine in the kissing department.” I led her into another soul kiss and I’m certain both our temperatures rose so we heated the entire state.

As we kissed, we dipped into the water up to our necks. I also started to stroke her body. Her swimsuit had almost no back, but a lot of front to it. I carefully ran my hands over her back and up and down her arms. I also used my arms as we hugged to maximize the amount of skin contact we were having. Joy caught on and returned the gesture.

I slithered into deeper water of the pool and pulled Joy over onto me. We floated close together - romantically close together and made several laps around the pool. I pulled her with me, touching as much of her body as I thought she’d feel comfortable with. We stopped periodically and kissed some more.

I pulled Joy with me towards the pool edge at one point. I hopped up on the edge and positioned Joy facing away from me as she still stood in the pool. I massaged her neck, shoulders and back, making the event as sensuous as I could. I wrapped my legs around her hips as I worked at relaxing and pleasing her.

Eventually, I slid back into the water and pulled Joy to me really tightly. I ground my hips - my growing hardness - into her groin, leaving no doubt that I wanted her body in a sexual way. This wasn’t exactly textbook Joy of Sex, but I did think it telegraphed my desire and intentions to her. We broke from a kiss I’d started and looked at each other. Joy turned and walked back towards the pool steps pulling me behind her. She turned and I looked questioningly at her; she said, “Let’s continue this in the room. I’m not into PDAs the way Mel is. She told me about your hot kisses at the mall and around campus.”

Five minutes later we stood in the motel room. I slowly peeled Joy’s wet bathing suit from her upper body, using my mouth on her pretty erect nipples as they came into view. Her whole body shuddered. I realized that everything I was doing was a first for her.

She had nice full breasts that overflowed my hand as I cupped first one and then the other. I rubbed and smoothed them with tenderness and care, hopefully communicating that I not only liked what we were doing but also that I like her and her body. I tried to avoid being called handsy, by also kissing her all over - face, neck, ears, back, shoulders, chest, and those very nice breasts.

Joy stood half-naked before me and watched my ministrations in what initially appeared to be a detached manner then the sensations started to arouse her sexually and she started to moan and move her hips in a sexual way. Soon her skin was singing under my hands.

She whispered to me during my attentions, “No one has ever …” She didn’t finish the sentence; she just put her head back in obvious enjoyment of what I was doing.

At one point I used my own chest to stroke her erect nipples, swaying and rubbing my modest chest hair into her chest. Apparently the action stimulated her in the right direction for suddenly Joy thrust her tongue down my throat again and we seemed to shift into a higher gear of sexual activity. That surprised me. I had been worried that she’d run screaming from the room any second.

I knelt in front of Joy and while looking into her eyes, I pulled her bathing suit the rest of the way off her body, having her step out of the wet fabric. I gently massaged her damp skin with the fluffy towel before I made love to one prong of her evident pelvic bone. I then licked my way across her flat stomach to her other side. My journey took me just north of her pubic area. She jerked as she stroked my head. I could tell I was delivering little lightning bolts of pleasure to her because of the little sighs and purrs from her throat.

Joy had a pretty full bush of pubic hair, but it had been trimmed back, probably so she didn’t embarrass herself with errant fuzz appearing outside her bathing suit.

I kissed all over her lower extremities from knee to navel yet stayed at least a few inches away from her pussy. Joy shivered often despite the warmth in the room, but lightly stroked my hair as I knelt before her, her feet a shoulder’s width apart. I often ran my hands over the same area then up to her breasts, cupping their comfortable weight in my palms and feeling the warmth of her beauty in my hands.

Joy had an enviable ass, and I spent time caressing and kissing that area of her body. She seemed surprised but pleased with everything that I was doing.

I stood eventually and pulled my own bathing suit off, quickly dabbing at my damp body with the towel I’d used on Joy. She gaped at my nude body - a first for her, I was sure. I stood and let he take in what I had to offer.

I urged her onto the king-size bed, pushing her into the middle where I could more properly tend to her pretty body. I detected her reticence as I nudged her into position and then lay before her.

“Joy, I’m about to have oral sex with you. I think that I’m pretty good at it, and I think you will enjoy it, but if you feel I’m about to cross a boundary with you, you must tell me. I am not here to force myself on you, even with the peer pressure that Mel tried to put on you.”

Joy whispered, “Don’t stop what you’re doing, please. Just remember that this is all new to me. Some of it is … shocking.”

I readied myself to taste her nectar and to make oral love to her nest. I gently slid beneath her legs, pushing them over my shoulders and lowered my head to the whiteness of her body. My tongue extended and touched the small flap of skin surrounding her clitoris.

Joy’s entire body jerked into a state of heightened arousal in spite of the exquisite tenderness I used on her. A long, low moan escaped from her lips and she then encapsulated my name in the next moan.

I lapped at her slit from peritoneum to clit and beyond. Joy practically came out of her skin as her arms flailed to hold my head still for a moment. She groaned at first and squeaked as I finished.

“Oh, Doug. That’s wonderful. Oh … oh.” Her breath quickened as I re-applied my tongue to the area. Her body rose up and pushed into my tongue.

I had become quite adept at cunnilingus thanks to the Pixie’s affection for the sport, as well as detailed instruction from the sex books and some porn videos. Patti had liked my approach too. Thus, in record time, I had Joy quivering and writhing beneath my tongue as I licked and touched the tender areas of her vulva. I knew my work was effective because I could hear her ever-accelerating heavy breathing.

Suddenly, Joy’s arms slapped back into the bed and her hips levitated to meet my mouth and then locked in place. She froze motionless in that position as my tongue dove back and forth into her vagina. Joy climaxed. I gently applied my entire mouth over her clit and sucked the nub into my mouth, almost like a miniature penis. She screamed and clenched my head between her thighs.

“Ooooooooooooouuuuuuuuh,” she wailed softly as the emotional moment swept through her body, warming her from within. I had successfully taken her on that wonderful journey with only my tongue.

As she relaxed her legs, I slipped under one leg and scooted up the bed to hold and kiss her. We went into a tender embrace and I kissed her. Our tongues were soon dancing.

Suddenly, Joy pulled away and looked at me. She tensed for a second then relaxed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing really. I just realized I could taste myself in our kiss.” She thought further for a moment then added, “I rather like it, actually. I thought it’d be gross, but it’s not; it’s nice. I don’t mind.” She smiled at me with a guilty look on her face, but then she French kissed me again using her tongue to search out the new taste she’d found.

Joy’s body was a banquet of slender sexy curves. I thought how she could be a great calendar model before I went on to other things. I let my fingers, and occasionally my lips, trace many of the curves of her body in a lazy but erotic way. We seemed to be delighting in the feeling of skin on skin, of flesh rubbing against flesh.

“Joy,” I told her with a grin, “Good sex is dirty, wet, smelly, and loaded with feelings and taste sensations - if it’s done right.” I kissed the end of her nose then thrust my tongue, still clinging to some of her nectar, back into her mouth. We had a long French kiss and Joy’s tongue explored the tastes that I offered her.

Joy’s hand soon found my partially inflated penis and took hold of me. The touch was highly tentative; one of innocence and uncertainty about what to do next. A rush of blood started to further fill me to the bursting point. She looked at me as she awkwardly stroked and fondled me.

“Will you really fit inside me?” she asked in an uncertain little girl voice.

“Yes, when you’re ready. Remember that you will birth a baby from there some day in the future. Are you a virgin? Mel wasn’t sure whether you were or weren’t.”

She answered in almost a whisper, “Yes, but I’ve been doing some things to help prepare for this day.”

I asked, “How can I make this the most special moment in your life? You know you’ll remember this forever, don’t you? When you remember thirty years from now, I want you to swoon and think it was one of the nicest things that every happened in your life.”

She nodded her head. “You’re the perfect guy. I really like you - and Mel. I’m so glad she’s sharing you … with me. You’re so tender and gentle, and you’re not rushing me or coming on strong. You make me feel safe. Plus, I know you really care about me. No one’s ever bought me flowers or a book of poems. It’s little things you’ve said and done over the past months to make me feel comfortable with you - with guys in general. You include me. I know Mel’s you’re Number One, but for a little while I can be your Number Two. And … and right now you’ve stoked my sexual temperature up to an all-time high.”

Joy smiled slightly at me and then urged me to come over her, between her legs. She continued, “So now is the time to make me a woman as the saying goes. Love me. No more foreplay.”

Joy watched me as I moved into position. I quickly slipped on a condom then leaned in and kissed her with all the tenderness and love I could summon to show her in that instant. Joy’s hand directed my steely shaft until the mushroom head of my penis rubbed into the prolific moisture almost gushing from her vagina. I slowly pushed forward in small thrusting motions as I started to penetrate, first by fractions of an inch and then in larger strokes into her willing body. I didn’t rush to push deep.

Joy’s legs naturally folded back and then went around my lower body as I neared full depth. She instinctively used them to guide and urge me deeper into her. I sank unimpeded by any encumbrance until I bottomed out, the tip of my cock at the gate to her womb. I didn’t detect that she had any pain with my incursion into her virginal body.

I kissed her and whispered, “You okay?”

“I may have never been better. I’m fine. Keep doing this.”

My weight pushed her down into the turned down comforter on the bed, the soft fabric surrounding and welcoming our union.

Joy had shuddered almost continuously as I penetrated her with very slow strokes, closing her eyes and turning her head with an air of pleasure - of satisfaction. She steadied herself, opened her eyes again, looked at me and smiled. She whispered, “Thank you,” in a voice that was almost inaudible.

Together we started a slow oscillation into each other. My gentleness took more strength than the passion we both wanted at that instant. I kept things very slow. I needed release - release from so many things that afternoon. I still held the tension from the peculiar relationship Mel wanted, plus Joy and I had now built this sexual tension between us. I thought whether I should just fuck this woman for my own selfish satisfaction, plundering her body until I ejaculated into her. One of the books had said that sex could be selfish.

My tenderness and warm feelings for Joy won out. I wanted her to have a good experience - a smooth, painless, loving, joyful experience. I wanted her to want more - from me, from life. I felt a caring and wanting for this lovely girl in spite of our unusual and nearly forced pairing by her roommate.

Joy had a natural motion of her hips to welcome me, to milk me of my juices, and to maintain the magnificent sensations we were providing to each other. As her legs loosely encircled my body, one arm reached up and touched my chest in an erotic gesture, her fingernails lightly raking my torso; the other hand reached up in the same instant and tenderly touched my face.

Our eyes were locked together, and I swear I could see deeper into her soul than I’d done with anybody else in my life, except for Melissa.

I resisted the growing urge to drive hard into her body that I often felt with Mel when we hadn’t been together for a day or so. Instead, with Joy, I prodded into her nest more slowly, circling my hips to bring her greater stimulation or pulling almost entirely all the way out before slowly reclaiming the territory I’d just given up.

The more I did to arouse, stimulate and scintillate Joy, the more she responded and the more blood I had roaring in my head. Finally, she came, her pussy spasming around my rigid shaft as she froze in another orgasm. After that her breathing became more a series of pants or gasps as she urged me deeper and faster into her pussy.

“Just cum. Cum in me. Aren’t you supposed to ‘blast your cum into me’? Isn’t that what people say?” she asked with a questioning look into my eyes. I could tell the words were foreign to her tongue and more some story of our lovemaking that Mel had probably told her.

I told her, “I’m actually very near, but my focus is on bringing you pleasure. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

Joy spoke with emphasis, “My pleasure right now is that you fuck me until you cum. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” She kept repeating the last few words over and over again as I increased my stroke length and frequency, driving harder into her yet holding back.

I became a machine, propelled forward towards an unmistakable conclusion. I felt the tubing and ducts in my body engorge with the semen from my reproductive system. Warmth in my groin and surges of pleasure started deep within me and traveled like lightning to my cock.

I ejaculated jet after jet of cum into Joy’s body as the waves of pleasure hammered into my brain stem. My body became racked with pleasure and a sense of heaven for a few precious seconds. I moaned into the hot kiss that I’d started with Joy.

Joy pulled me into her with all her might and I couldn’t have been any deeper. We mashed our mouths together so hard our teeth gnashed occasionally. I tasted blood for a second but wasn’t sure whose it was.

Joy had shrieked again as I’d bellowed my pleasure to the universe. From our ecstatic state with bodies arched into one another I carefully lowered my weight onto her body, then rolled us to our sides, my long and satisfied cock continuing to nest in her hot vagina. I showered her face and neck and ears with kisses.

“Oh God. Yes. Oh, Doug, you are so wonderful. This is so wonderful. I never knew. I’d hoped but this is so …”

“Sssssh, my little love,” I told her. “Just be quiet and enjoy the feeling of the afterglow.” I kept kissing her and wrapping her in my new affection. There was a new kind of energy in me and I knew Joy could feel it.

Chapter 4 - A ‘Double Date’

My weekend with Joy had several unintended consequences of course. First, she fell in love with me. I played my part too well of initiating her into the hallowed halls of womanhood. I had romanced her, and that was all it took to have a devoted female who could think of little else in the world except me.

The other major consequence was that I fell in love with her too - without falling out of love with Mel. Mel had told me many times that a person could love more than one person - have more than one soul mate. I finally understood what she’d been talking about because I was feeling it.

The contrast between them was startling and confusing. I loved Mel - the Pixie - who professed her love for me as well, but didn’t want to be tied down and dated other guys occasionally. I also loved Joy, Mel’s roommate, who openly loved me too. Further, we all knew everything about how we all felt about everyone else.

I didn’t think this was a normal situation.

I tried to convince myself that Mel was my Number One and that Joy was a very close Number Two, but the fact was that I loved them equally - if that were possible - yet differently. This state of being surprised me greatly, particularly that I felt comfortable feeling this way. Whether with one or the other or both together, I had feelings of love, warmth and compassion that almost overwhelmed me. Moreover, they seemed to feel the same way towards me and towards each other.

Mel, of course, was a rebel in her own way. She would be the one that pulled us out of our comfort zones or pushed us into doing something that expanded our thinking in some ‘risky’ way. She was also the ‘dish’ - the hottie - the outgoing Pixie that everyone looked to as a source of both amusement and amazement. I knew I was too conservative and Mel had set out to certainly fix that dread disease; I welcomed the change. Mel also knew how to praise me in a language I understood and took as pure love; she’d tell me what a good student I was, or how hard I’d worked for a grade, or how she so appreciated the things I did for her or how open I was when we were together. I loved our talks together, particularly how she expanded my thinking in some area.

Mel also praised me for attending to Joy and then for obviously falling in love with her. She told me that all her hopes about getting Joy to come out of her shell in some way had been realized, even just from the one ‘date’ we had at the Holiday Inn.

Joy was almost the opposite of Mel, even more conservative than I had ever been. She was yet open to Mel’s efforts to pull her out of her shell too. I often felt protective around Joy - sometimes protecting her from Mel, even though when you saw her she looked like this stunning woman that you’d think knew exactly what she wanted. Despite appearance, Joy was very naïve and unknowing about relationships and sex.

Joy liked to do little things for me that showed her love; I’d find a love note tucked in one of my books or a pressed flower; one time she washed and shined my car for me while I was in class; another time she found some way in the dorm to make me a box of chocolate chip cookies - my favorites. Her gifts and little acts of service I accepted as her love offerings.

Of course, we were physical with each other. We liked to touch, stroke, hold, look at, hug, and make love with one another. While part of this love language was the raging hormones the three of us seemed to have at this age, I knew that physical touch was important to me - both to give and to receive.

A week or so after my weekend with Joy, I sat with Mel in the Student Union one afternoon talking about the situation; only no words came out in terms of solutions or options. My mind was blank.

Mel asked with a tone of encouragement, “So, why don’t you do another weekend with Joy?”

“Heck no,” I replied sensitive to insulting Mel and making her feel left out; “I mean Joy is wonderful; everything you could ask for in a date and yes, I’d love to be with her again. She is a divine and passionate lover. Not as good as you, of course, but she’s learning. I worry about leading her on, when you’re my focus.”

I felt myself blundering around in this peculiar landscape for which I did not have a vocabulary or any kind of compass. I also didn’t want to disparage Joy in any way. I paused and looked Mel deep in the eyes. I continued, “The problem is that I’m in love with you - too. You are my Number One girlfriend and I feel I should concentrate on you. Joy is nice and I really care about her - too. Do I need to make a choice?”

Mel ignored my struggle to be politically correct and pleasing to her, and asked, “What if you could have both of us?”

“I sort of do, don’t I?”

“No, I mean at the same time. You love us both. Say, next weekend the three of us went to the motel?” I got a Pixie grin from her just before she tossed her head to move an errant lock of blonde hair from her face. In that flash of a second I could see the entire weekend unfold. I felt a surge of blood enter my sleeping dick.

“I have trouble keeping up with your sexual needs. I had trouble keeping up with Joy’s needs by the time we started to cool things down and think about checking out Sunday. What makes you think I could handle both of you at the same time?”

Mel got a silly grin on her face and said, “Maybe Joy and I could take care of each other when you’re recovering. Besides, you’re still exciting, even when you aren’t trying to have an orgasm. Not that I’ve had all that much experience, but you have the best tongue of anyone I’ve ever known plus you’ve studied the sport. You love pussy, which is more than I can say for some folks I’ve been out with. Plus, aren’t guys supposed to get off watching two women together?” Her sexy grin got wider and she licked her lips seductively.

Somehow, I had the feeling that Joy did not know about this devious plan by her roommate to have a threesome, and to have sapphic sex.

I’d learned from the Pixie that her weekend with Bill Seaborn hadn’t gone as well as Mel had hoped, although I had to impute that from her tone of voice and lack of enthusiasm for any future dates with him. He apparently demonstrated a lack of creativity as well as unwillingness to be inventive sexually, even when Mel tried to lead him into some fun sexual stuff that we did routinely. Secretly, I was glad. I wanted to outshine every other male in tending to her. That said, I had at least hoped Mel would come back happy rather than barely satisfied from her weekend in Indianapolis.