My First Blowjob
Friday came. Around noon I was out of the house and "staying with friends," which was true. I had begun "studying for finals," which was not true. Thinking about the night ahead, I couldn't get out of that house soon enough. I was back at their dorm room. Oh, how I envied them their independence, I thought as I stuffed some clothing and toiletries into my backpack!
Anyway, they were already working on plans, and had something already setup. Their boyfriends Mark and Burt had been given the "wave off" for the weekend so this truly was a "girls' night out."
"Now, this might take a couple of weekends," Shiela said. "Like Andrea said, you can't just jump on the first guy you see, or even worse, the first one who hits on you."
Andrea added, "Actually, let me ask you this first...is there any particular guy you fancy, in any of your classes? That'd be the best way to go. Doing the pick-up scene at a local bar is pretty lame, and besides, it's not exactly the safest thing to do,"
"Well, yeah. I think so, anyway. There's this guy in the back row of my Psych class who's always there before me, and seems to pay extra attention to me when I come into the lecture hall and sit down."
"Extra attention to?" Shiela asked. "What do you mean? And what's he look like?"
"I dunno. I mean, I'm not sure. I get there, sit down, and stretch. Usually I arch my back and tilt my head back, and then I notice him. Staring at me. I've caught him looking a bunch of times. Looks like? I dunno. Short black hair, light eyes, clean-shaven, maybe six foot-something, usually pretty well dressed, wears a leather bomber jacket when it's cold out."
"Gee, I wonder why he'd be staring," Shiela said. "You've got the looks, that's for sure. He's probably staring at your tits the whole time." She poked me in the chest. "Don't be so naïve! I imagine you've got a bunch of secret followers!"
I thought about this for a moment, silently appraised my body, and decided that yes, Shiela was right, and so was Andrea. "Eminently fuckable" Shiela had said a couple times before. A smile began to rise on the inside, bringing with it a feeling of growing confidence. But there was still a problem.
I said, "Well, I can't very well go up to someone staring at me, like my Psych 101 guy, and say, 'Hello! My name is Meesha! I want to fuck your brains out! Are you up for it?'" Maybe being direct is supposed to be good. But it's creepy. Not to mention he'd think I was a total slut, which I'm not! Anyway, I'm open to suggestions."
"You need a steady boyfriend," Andrea replied. "It sounds like this guy in your Psych class would be ideal. We just have to find a way to break the ice."
Shiela interrupted the long-term speculation. "Girls! We're getting carried away! For tonight, how about we just go out and have a great time?"
"What constitutes a great time?"
"Loud music, close quarters, cocktails and cold beer, hot horny guys... and gals. And somewhere we don't have to drive."
"Sounds good to me. How about the Haus Brau?" Andrea suggested.
"You're joking, right?" I said, incredulous. "What a dive! But, at least for tonight, you're in charge, and it's the closest place we can walk to... Let's do it!"
* * *
There was no way I was going to risk going back home to change clothes; being caught and stuck at home for the evening by over-protective parents. They sure wouldn't buy the explanation: "I had to come home to change for my study session." Besides, I didn't really have anything good to change into. Most of my clothes were overly modest and not what I had in mind.
* * *
"What you need, girlfriend, is a nice tight pair of jeans, pair of boots, show off that sexy ass," Shiela said. The memories of gripping, caressing, squeezing Shiela's ass at the end of my "make-out education" session earlier in the week were still strong. I knew what she meant, and I thought of how sexy it'd be.
"Yeah!" Andrea added. "Tight, low-cut top, showing off some of that fine cleavage?"
It sounded exciting. It sounded delicious. But then I had that awful memory of my parents waiting up for me on Prom Night. Screw them. I wanted to do something rude, something my two best friends would applaud. They wouldn't think it made me a slut and neither would I. I realized I didn't care what my parents thought. I was going to have a good time.
My face must have shown something.
"Is that all right?" Shiela asked. "Is something wrong?"
I realized the direction my thoughts had been going and shook it off. I was so tired of the loose and baggy clothes my parents had insisted I wear growing up. Things relaxed in college, to the point where I could pretty much choose what I wanted. Within reason. I knew that their "within reason" would not be Shiela and Andrea's "within reason."
"No, Shiela, nothing's wrong. Just thinking about clothes."
"'K. Let's see what we can do," Andrea said. "But first, you're coming with me."
"I am?"
"You are. Haircut. My treat."
* * *
So to start with, the fresh haircut brought my usually plain-combed red hair into feminine curls framing my face. When we got back, she loaned me a pair of tight bluejeans that I swear must have had spandex in them; so close did they hug my ass and hips and legs. She tossed a pair of tall black boots into the mix. She was helping me on with them, and wrapped what looked a hair-tie around the stretchy denim now over my lower legs and ankles. "What's that for?" I asked.
"Keeps your jeans from pulling out of the boots, that's what." She drew up the zippers over my lower legs, up to my knees. I loved the look! She loaned me a snug-fitting sweater with a low plunging neck-line, too. I put on the sexy black bra that only my friends knew about that I'd shoplifted, believe it or not! Yeah, this good little Irish Catholic girl sometimes wasn't so good! The jeans, boots, and sweater were sexy as hell, the bra pushed up my boobs and squeezed them together, and when you added it all up, there was a chick that looked like she was ready to fuck her partner and knew how to do it. I put on my gloves (always present, yes!), and I noticed with some pleasure that Shiela couldn't take her eyes off me.
Andrea chose a nearly skin-tight "little black dress," that left little to the imagination. She wore dark hose, and a pair of hot, black pumps.
"I would say," Shiela began, "that we'll each be turning some heads." She was dressed in a black leather skirt and boots, topped off by a black sweater similar to the one I wore.
"I would say, too," I started, "that we'll probably have guys all over us."
"There ya go! That's the idea!" Andrea said.
"Selfie!" I said. In moments we'd memorialized ourselves, and it's a photo I still have.
* * *
In a couple hours we were standing in line outside the Haus Brau. We didn't have to wait long. Soon we had shown our IDs and were in. We found a table pretty much right in the center, equal distance from the tiny dance floor as to the bar. The three of us ordered cocktails and leaned in over the table to talk. We practically had to shout.
