College-age fantasies are so much fun. Everybody's legal, and exist only in the mind of an old guy with a rich fantasy life.
*****
We called her Rabbit, joking that all she did was eat and breed. We didn't know this for a fact, it just seemed to fit.
Her actual name was Cindy, however, and instead of a rabbit, she was a fox. Short, voluptuous, long brown hair and big brown eyes, I remember her eyelashes as being spectacular, without makeup. A dazzling smile. Cute freckles.
Lectures were devoted to flirting. She gave at least as well as she took. Two of us, on either side of her, making comments in 1975 that would have gotten us expelled today, she took them with a smile, and gave back in kind.
"So, why do they call you Big Bob?" she would ask, with innocence painted all over her face. My friend would blush and crumple.
My leg crossed, she proceeded to doodle on the knee of my jeans with her Bic pen. A Playboy bunny. Then she just looked at me. Those big eyes.
"Are you for real, Rabbit?" I asked.
"Girls never tell," she said, and I swear to God, licked her lips. "Maybe you should find out?"
"Saturday night?" I asked, the moment overcoming some inherent shyness.
"Sounds like a date. Pick me up at my sorority at...?"
"Six-thirty," I said. "We'll go to Holstein's. Fred's playing. Figure on supper, too."
"Okay!" She smiled, and rubbed my knee. The Bic ink didn't smear. I definitely felt outclassed. But curious.
Saturday evening came, and my orange VW Beetle arrived at her sorority house. She was ready, and we made the trek to Chicago's Lincoln Avenue, the home at that time of multiple folk music clubs, none better than Holstein's. Ed and Fred were the owners, Ed managing and Fred often taking the stage with his huge guitar and deep baritone. Always a good show.
I had invited Ed to come speak to our university class about folk music, and ever since I was always welcomed warmly and given a ringside table. Tonight was no different. We greeted as long-lost friends. He noticed a new lady, and did not fail to impress by his warmth to me.
Ed was impressed, too. Rabbit's long hair hung loose around her shoulders, bare from the white tube top she wore that hugged her large breasts, and tight jeans that hugged a sweet ass. I thought about hugging her, too. Ed winked as he seated us.
Holstein's had great burgers, and unobtrusive service to get them to us without disrupting the show. We had a great time, chit-chatting between numbers and during the intermission. It was a good show - Fred was in rare form. Rabbit was smart, engaging, and only a little flirtatious in the crowd. A perfect lady, which I hoped would change radically. Or at least change to perfection in a different sense. As we listened, my hand strayed to her leg under the table, she moved it closer to me, covering my hand with hers, squeezing gently in encouragement. Interrupted by applause, I kept returning my hand after each number. Just on the top of her leg. Nothing fancy. She kept returning her hand to the top of mine.
After the set, I paid the bill (noticing and thanking Ed that the cover charge was absent), and we emerged onto Lincoln Avenue. My bug was two blocks away. Rabbit took my hand as we walked in silence. We were just comfortable, letting the memory of the music fade slowly. When we got to the car, I went to open her door. She turned and backed against it.
"Are you going to take me back to your place and have your way with me?"
If I looked stunned, it was because I was. "Uh."
She grabbed my jacket and pulled me to her. She was so little, I was tall, but that didn't stop our first kiss. Sweet, all lips. Soft, but very sexy.
"Do you want me to?" I asked from inches away. She responded by putting a hand around my neck, pulling me close, and planting a fiery, tongue-filled kiss. I was immediately hard as a rock, and ready to roll.
"Enough said?" Her eyes were on fire.
I opened the door for her, then got in and had all I could do to keep to the speed limit going back home. Hand on her leg after each manual shift.
I lived in a room in the basement of a house, where the hot water heating pipes came down to about my ear. A few weeks of practice and head lumps had me to where I could navigate the room with my eyes closed, and duck at the right places. At the foot of the single bed, there was a sitting area with a sofa flanked by my stereo speakers. A cozier place than the sofa was on the floor using the bed's footboard as a backrest. We settled there to listen to some music. It wasn't long before we were necking. Lots of sweet kisses and light tongues. Smiles. Arm on her bare shoulder. Soft, warm skin.
Cindy's lips were delicious and expressive, and her tongue varied from soft and passive to fiery and aggressive. She was a great kisser, and we had a great time just locking lips. That didn't keep me from the boner of a lifetime, but I was patient. It didn't seem like she would be leaving soon, and we could take our time.
Leisurely, my hand wandered to her breast, feeling its fullness through the tube top's fabric. She moved against my hand a little, in encouragement, it seemed. A finger in her cleavage took the top and pulled it down, exposing two large, fleshy mounds to the slightly chilly air. From that, from excitement, or both, her nipples were aroused and taut. I massaged each breast in turn, and took nipples between fingers and squeezed, which elicited moans of approval. Bending my head, I took each breast in my mouth in turn, sucking the nipples, nibbling, kissing. She cradled my head in her arms and pulled me to her.
