This has interracial aspects and one insensitive character utters a slur or two.
My second year in college was almost as big a life change for me as the first year had been. Everyone knows that going away from home and family to begin at university is a major adjustment for a young person. For the first time in your life, it's almost like your parents don't exist anymore. Also, with everyone sleeping far from their parents, the boys and girls can enjoy each other in ways that perhaps fulfill all their high school fantasies.
But at my school, all first-year students ate in cafeteria and lived in dormitories with at least token supervision. The sexes were segregated by building. Alcohol was hard to come by.
Second-year, however, everyone moved into private rentals around the town, and some of us were responsible for everything for the first time. We not only had kitchens, but we had to manage our own grocery shopping, laundry, pay the electric bill, etc. It was the most "grown-up" chapter of our lives. I shared a 2-bedroom apartment with Andrew, my best friend from freshman year.
At the beginning of the Frosh year we were assigned to the same dorm, but on different floors. Andrew and I got along very well because we were similarly disinterested in sports and serious about our studies. This made us freaks because everyone around us was rabid about sports and happier to drink alcohol than read a book. We became fast friends and switched roommates at Christmas break in order to share a room. Our former roommates were delighted to get rid of the geeks they'd first been paired with!
I didn't do very well with the ladies freshman year, but by the Spring Andy had fallen head over heels in love with a sweet Asian-American girl named Gwen. I had a few dates, but they didn't lead to any relationships.
My outlet, and Andy's too, was daily masturbation. College roommates at first hide this activity from each other. Gentle wanks under the blanket after lights out for some, a furtive trip down the hall to the bathroom stalls for others. Everybody knows what everyone else is doing, but somehow at first everyone is embarrassed by it.
Until one day they're not. As the weeks turn to months, it was common for guys sharing a room to give each other permission to whack off whenever they wanted. The blankets came off, the toilets were avoided, and all over campus horny men were flogging their logs with their roommates right there. Sometimes watching.
Sometimes helping.
Andy and I were very helpful. We'd crawl up onto his bed sideways and put on a porn vid. Then we would masturbate at the same time. His dick was at least an inch, maybe two, longer than mine, but I didn't care. Eventually we would, when invited, tug each other. I thought that was awesome; for the first time in my life, I was giving and receiving sexual pleasure from another person. It was a strange kind of intimacy, and everyone agreed that it wasn't gay. Anal would be gay, but two dudes helping each other out was just, well, it was OK.
That first summer back home, deprived of the daily sexual release Andy gave me, I felt lonely and lost. I had a few dates that summer with friends of my sister, who kept trying to fix me up. None of them clicked with me and when the summer was over I went happily back to college, my virginity intact.
***
Second-year, in our off-campus apartment, Gwen began sometimes sleeping over with Andrew on weekends. Both of them were quite open about the fact that they were planning to be virgins until they married, not necessarily to each other. This seemed to me to be a bad deal for a guy. "I won't have sex until I marry, and I have no plans to marry you" seems like a bleak future for a guy.
But Andy and Gwen seemed almost liberated by the banishment of sexual intercourse from their relationship. They were the cutest couple ever, holding hands, hugging and sexlessly kissing, behaving like 10-year-olds playing house. Andy let me know, discreetly, that when he needed "help" on a weekend, innocent little Gwen would take my place and jerk him off. He apologized to me one Sunday for "not being there for you," but we continued to help each other most weeknights when Gwen was at her apartment. He never once teased me about having a small penis.
Gwen's regular weekend sleep-overs drove me crazy with teen lust. Since their relationship was both passionately romantic but asexual, they both ran around a lot in their underwear acting like innocent kids, but with a lot of touching and fondling. I paid no attention to Andy's half-naked body, of course, having spent many pleasant hours naked with him, but tight little Gwen with her A-cup bras and her cartoon character panties gave me a constant erection. My personal favorites were her "Hello Kitty" skimpy bikini panties because I knew she called her vagina her kitty.
One day she teased me for staring too hard. She cheerfully told me that the small shadow in her panties I'd been staring at was her sparse Asian pubic hair. I got a short biology primer on how Asians are almost hairless, "...my little Chinese kitty has no fur to speak of."
Gwen appeared oblivious that while she seemed not to think about sex, my cock was always about to explode in my pants. She gave her kitty a slight touch with one extended finger while watching me drool, then giggled, spun around, and dashed back to their room. I don't know how Andy could sleep with her without attacking her. Well, I kind of did understand, because Andy and I were the least aggressive men on campus.
In October Gwen introduced me to her roommate, Vickie. Vickie was Korean-American, and as we double-dated several times the girls taught Andy and me about the differences between Chinese and Korean history and culture. Growing up in our white-bread suburbs, neither of us had exposure to Asians, or any foreigners. My roommate and I were enthralled by the women.
Vickie quickly wrapped me around her little finger; I fell head over heels in love. She was, like Gwen, tender and affectionate. Neither girl ever said an unkind word about anyone. But there was one problem: Vickie, too, was going to save herself for marriage. The two of us soon fell into the same behaviors as Andy and Gwen, incessant kissing and touching, no sexual intercourse. Vickie sometimes slept over in my bed, and it was exquisite torture.
Vickie did permit me one liberty that Gwen had so far denied Andy: she enjoyed my playing with her "kitty". She would almost always have a quiet little orgasm when I fingered her clit just right. But then, after I satisfied her, she shyly refused to reciprocate. After every orgasm I gave her, she watched me beat my own meat and ejaculate all over my stomach. She was absolutely fascinated by seeing my dick shoot a load all over myself. I must have been the first cock she ever saw naked, because she never mentioned my size. No matter how hard I begged her, she refused to touch my jizz, not even to wipe me off. She said cum was "sticky and stinky" and that she would never want to touch it.
Somehow Vickie convinced Gwen to manage Andy the same way. He was very thankful the next weekend when Gwen agreed that being fingered to orgasm was something she might enjoy while still safeguarding her virginity.
