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up until everyone had left the brightly-lit squash ball court. With the coast clear, I walked on up the stairs and out the door, hoping to catch up with her. Just outside, as luck would have it, there Phoebe was, lighting up a cigarette, and offered me one. Though I really didnt smoke, I took one anyway, noting that her nipples were especially rigid in the cool morning air. Lighting my smoke, she let her hand linger on mine and said she was amazed at my flexibility. I asked if she was referring to the "auto-fellatio," a term she thought was very funny, and she unabashedly said yes, that it really turned her on big time. I told her that Id really enjoyed her breasts caressing my feet, could not help noticing her moist vagina, and that she, likewise, turned me on. When she said she did not have another class until 10:30 AM and so had some time to kill (It was just after 9:00, and I, too, didnt have another class until 10:30), I took that as a full-steam-ahead, so I asked her to get high with me in my dorm, which was just across the soccer field. Six bongs later, I was blowing a mouth-to-mouth shotgun into Phoebes lungs, and in moments, without speaking a word, we shucked our clothes and began French-kissing, our hands roaming all over each others naked bodies. Without even a smidgen of make-up and a bad case of bed-head hair, she was nevertheless one awesome-looking, sexy babe. I put on some Allman Brothers and then proceeded to kiss and lick and nibble every square millimeter of her lovely physique, so light in complexion, sprinkled with freckles. She was stroking my cock ever so fine with her diminutive hands, bent forward to kiss and lick it all over, and was about to swallow him whole when Phoebe stopped, looked up, and said, "I just gotta see you suck yourself again. Nothing has ever turned me on so much!" Like I was going to say no! Not counting my little show in yoga class, it had been a really long time since Id done it (recall above reference to yard work), but I scooted to the very edge of the bed, pulled my legs up beside my hips like a bullfrog, bent forward, and gave myself a blow job. Frankly, I was surprised that I could go all the way to the base of my 7-incher with only the slightest discomfort after such a long hiatus, but I guess the yoga class had loosened me up, not to mention the motivating effect of this hotties request. She was already sitting Indian style on the floor in front of me, and from there, transfixed on the freak show I was providing, she played with her tits and pussy, which was oozing so much nectar that there was a wet spot below it on the throw rug. Staring with wide blue eyes at my genitalic genuflecting, she brought herself


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to a stirring orgasm. Shortly, Phoebe joined in by licking and nibbling my balls while I continued to suck myself, and she eventually pursed her sucking lips and darting tongue to run them up and down the underside of my shaft in tandem with me. Id let my cock pop out of my mouth, and it would rub on her wet chin while we French-kissed for a bit before tonguing the tip together and lick-sucking our way back down to the base. Finally, she took over full blow-job duty with audible slurping zeal while I relaxed to thoroughly enjoy the sight, sound, and sensation. It was obvious she loved to suck dick, and just as obvious, I loved the way she did it. As she patiently sucked, licked, kissed, and nibbled my cock and balls, my gaze alternated between her lovely face and terrific tangerines. So firm they barely jiggled, centered in their smooth, quarter-sized areolas were stiff pink nipples no wider than the eraser on a standard no. 2 pencil, but projecting out 3/8 of an inch. That Phoebe went bra-less was no big deal—lots of girls did in the 70s—but the exceptional thing was that those nips were always, always rigid. It occurred to me at that moment that it was her nipples that gave me a sexual rush the first time I met her at a party at the frat house. She was wearing some faded, worn-thin bellbottoms and a hand-embroidered, semi-transparent gauze blouse. Despite its loose fit, those nail-hard nipples poked in plain view against the cotton. Though Id kissed and nibbled them a bit earlier, I realized I had not spent nearly enough time at her boob station, so I leaned forward to play with them some more. Damn they were firm! Im sure that some guys might have even thought they were enhanced—these were the silicone implant days—but they were 100% real. Twisting her nipples made them even harder, gathering up more of the surrounding areola and pointing up half and inch. She licked my fingertips for lubrication, and I went back to "work" twiddling and squeezing as she blew me ever more vigorously. I was getting close to cumming, but there was so much more to do, so I forced myself to break off the head job and exchanged places with her to eat pussy. This was the first really good look I got at it, and all I can say is, "Oh my God!" because of its unusualness. Though her twat was not shaved (that was unheard of in those days), it was very easy to see and access since she had very little pubic hair. In fact, Phoebe had so little body hair that she did not have to shave anywhere at all, which rendered her legs incredibly soft, the tiny soft blonde hairs making them feel like velvet. The little wisps of blonde hair under her arms did not bother me one bit; she was, after all, a thoroughly natural, hippy-chick beauty .