For those of you who have read Pleasing Kelsey, this is one of I hope to be many prequels. The first section is a bit of a rehash of the start of Pleasing Kelsey, so you might want to skip it if you have read it already.
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I am cute. I walk by and guys will give a nod, you know the kind, a quick scan for large firm breasts or a glance when I pass them to check out my ass. I never even used to catch it until I met Kelsey and she pointed it out to me. I'm only 5'2", which pretty much puts me in the cute category by itself. My breasts are small at what I like to call a modified B cup, meaning they are an A but look like a B during a certain time of the month or with the padded bras I normally wear. My hair is chestnut brown, not really, it's just brown, but chestnut brown sounds more exotic. My eyes are hazel, again, not really, just brown. I do, however, have a very nice little ass. At least I think so and most of the people who have given it a squeeze appreciated it. I wear corrective glasses.
Kelsey is gorgeous. Everyone notices her. Not to suggest that they aren't many other women on my college campus that turn every head, but Kelsey also heads the cheer squad. Kelsey is the lead anchor on the college's morning show filmed and produced by students. Kelsey is continuously on the honor roll. Kelsey also happens to come from a very rich family and drives a red sports convertible.
Kelsey is modelesque, not a word according to my spell check, I just made it up. She is 5'9" and adding her normal heels, she towers over most guys, not to mention nearly all the girls at our college. She has blonde hair. By blonde hair, I mean very light blonde hair, not 'dirty blonde' by any stretch of the imagination. Her body is perfect. Her feet are perfect, every nail, fingers and toes, match and they are a different design every week. Her calves, her thighs, her ass, her hips, they are sculpted by a greater power than genealogy.
Kelsey's belly? HA! More like a set of abs that segregates the two regions of her body that constantly summon all of mankind's deepest desires. Her breasts are an absolute work of art on her perfect body. Those 36C cups would be monstrous on my frame, but they fit her ... well... perfectly. Her neck is the most kissable expanse of flesh I have ever yearned to taste. Her earlobes are so sensitive and delicious. Her cheek bones are high, her chin is perfectly set on her jaw and elegantly curved.
Her lips... I lack the words to describe those plump, painted, permanently perfectly parted passageways to her mouth. I'll try. They always appear to be wet. Having a seemingly unlimited means, she only uses the finest of beauty products, though I have seen her without any and I have to say they are not required. When those wondrous lips move, you are torn between hearing the words and losing yourself in the commanding presence of those moist full lips.
Kelsey's eyes are the crystal blue of water in the Carribean. I have lost myself in those eyes many times. They are hypnotic, all encompassing orbs that reflect her mood and seem to penetrate your very soul. They read me like a book. They betray only what she wishes them to convey. It is like they are a separate entity unto themselves, but one that she controls without fail.
The way Kelsey dresses is impeccable. There is a line between enticing and slutty and she is above that line. She shows her body without showing her body. Her clothing is tight, but modest in its exposure. She almost looks professional, but she is still dressing for college. She wears a skirt or dress most of the time, but they are never above mid-thigh. You will never catch a glimpse of any article that she does not intend you to see.
So, perhaps you can tell, I was enamored of Kelsey. I was not alone in this respect for her beauty. However, like most people on the campus, I was more in a constant state of awe than of any remote dream that her interest would be returned. When she walks by, it is a wonder that half the school isn't wearing neck braces from watching her closely and jerking their heads away and averting their eyes when she glances back with that smile on her lips. She knows. She always knows and she adores the attention, much the way I would think a Queen would adore being worshipped by her subjects.
******
Obviously, I noticed Kelsey. I had been going to this college for a few months now, and I don't think that there was a single person in the over five thousand that attended this college that didn't at least know who she was. She was ever-present. She was on the morning show Monday through Friday. She was on the cheer squad at every football game. She was a consummate member of about every extra-curricular activity on campus, many of which she never even attended.
I was with my boyfriend at the time she first noticed me. Greg was actually a great guy. I loved him very much. He was strong and athletic. He played cornerback and was very good at his job on the football team. I'm not really even sure what he saw in me. Like I said, I was cute, not gorgeous. There are many more attractive women on campus.
We met at a party my first weekend at college. I was not old enough to drink, but it didn't stop me or any of the other freshmen from having a few. I didn't get drunk. That would require losing control, which I would never do again since that party in high school where I ended up tag teamed by four guys in an upstairs bedroom while the party went on downstairs.
Of course it was all over school the next day, my reputation was shot. My boyfriend at the time quickly dumped me, even though he was one of the four and had arranged the gangbang. It broke my heart, and I climbed into a mental wall to shut down for the next month until I was more or less forgotten.
But, back to Greg, we met and were both a little uninhibited and ended up with me blowing him in a bedroom upstairs. Blowjobs had been my offering for my dates that I didn't want to fuck for a long time, so I had gotten quite good at it. I can tell you that Greg definitely enjoyed my skills that night and I was only a little surprised when he came to see me the next morning for breakfast.
We quickly became a thing. Mind you, I'm not one of those girls who doesn't enjoy sex, but since that time in high school with the four guys, I had not elected to find anyone worthy of the ultimate pleasure of being there inside the sweet folds of my vajayjay. Okay, I'm being a bit falsely braggish at the quality of my cunt, but I certainly think it should be an honor to get into it, not a light gift offered to anyone who can get me into a five word conversation.
Greg wasn't the worst conversationalist in the world, but he was far from the best. Consequently, just about every time we met, I found myself on my knees sucking on his cock. He enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. It's weird, to explain it to most women, but there is something about sucking a cock that makes me feel cheap and it turns me on. Sometimes, I would frig myself off while blowing him. Others I would do it later.
What is really cool about being with Greg were the parties that I now found myself invited to. All the football parties, a lot of frat parties and some sorority parties as well. It seemed every weekend was booked with a party or another and I would at some point of the night, find myself worshipping Greg's cock. Surprisingly, for a long time, he never even asked to have sex. Apparently, at least in the department of providing blowjobs, I was every bit as good as I thought I was.
I had overcome my gag reflex years ago and was able to take up to a nine inch cock into my throat. I know that because I had to measure that monster when I saw it. In spite of what some stories seem to imply, there are not a lot of nine inch cocks out there. And while the size is intoxicating to behold, it is also far from necessary even after you have had one.
The nine inch cock was not Greg's by the way, his was a good, average six inches of thick man meat that slid easily into my throat and we both enjoyed it very much. Now, at the risk of sounding like a complete slut and whore, I probably sucked Greg off about three times a day when we first started dating. As I said, we both enjoyed it, so why not?
It did not interfere with my studies. I was very blunt about that with Greg. I needed to keep my grades up for my scholarship. I was a bit of a geek to be honest. I did work out at the gym to stay in shape, but I was not by any means a sports type. I loved watching football and basically any sport that guys were playing, but I was not a sports junkie.
As an English major with visions of becoming a world famous author in my spare time while teaching English in high school to pay the bills in the writing stage of my first book, my first year was filled with teaching and English classes. If the classes had been a little fuller, I might have felt better with my professional future, but I never questioned my decision, it was a calling for me and I actually think I had one up on most people in college who were undecided in their freshman years.
I had never had a lesbian encounter in high school. I've heard of and read stories about that stuff, and I have to admit that bisexuality and lesbianism are much more socially acceptable than they were years ago, or so I have heard. I guess it falls into every guy's dream of having two girls at once. I really feel bad for gay men. They have been, I think, out of the closet longer than lesbians and they are still not really that well accepted by straight people. I don't even get the impression that the lesbian community embraces the gay male community and that is rather hypocritical if you ask my opinion. I think it would be hot to see Greg blow another guy, but my opinion on that seems to be in the minority.
Moving along to a day like many others, it was December and it was the Friday night after my last final. I felt very good about my grades and was furthermore pretty certain that I had achieved a 4.0 in my first semester with eighteen credit hours now in my collegiate resume. I was also working on a book in my spare time, which was not nearly as much as I had hoped for with the time I was spending with Greg.
