Linda Fleury was already a legend at the University of Delaware. A petite cheerleader for the football team with golden blonde hair down to her pert little bubble butt, Linda was pretty much universally acclaimed as the "Best Cocksucker on Campus."
The great irony was that no guy on campus could honestly claim to be the fortunate recipient of her talents.
You see, Linda had gained this moniker due to a now infamous performance at a Fort Lauderdale bar named "The Button" on Spring Break the previous March.
The Button was packed to the gills on one particular afternoon for its "Banana Eating Contest". This was by far the favorite competition of the Spring Break crowd, even more so than the thrice-daily poolside wet t-shirt contests.
The gist of the endeavor was to simulate a blow job by sticking a banana into the lap of approximately a dozen or so willing males while each was assigned to a young (usually very intoxicated) coed who would gobble up the banana, to the roars and delight of the full house.
Linda, being a competitive gal who hated to lose at anything, entered this contest dead sober, yet with a calculated plan. The first-prize money of five hundred dollars was a nice enough incentive to help with tuition, but Linda also had an exhibitionist streak that she cultivated any chance that she could. At least when she was away from home. And Fort Lauderdale was a thousand miles away from Newark, Delaware.
This was also in the early 1980's, long before cell phone cameras, and Instagrams, and Twitter. So there was nothing to document the occasion other than word of mouth.
And word of mouth had it like this.....Linda first climbed upon the stage wearing the skimpiest of bikinis, a yellow polka dot (teeny-weeny?) number that provided a perfect forum to display her steel-tight gymnast-like body. Linda's tummy was flatter than a dead man's EKG, yet her tits were perfectly shaped 32 B's. She filled out both a cheerleaders' sweater and a bikini with equal charm, to put it modestly.
Very early in the fevered competition, Linda pulled her bikini bottom to one side, displaying a full view of her golden, glistening pussy. The crowd of drunk Northeastern frat boys, not surprisingly, went apeshit.
But as they say, the crowd hadn't seen nuthin' yet. Linda walked behind the chair where the young man with the banana in his crotch was sitting. She climbed up onto the lucky bastard's head, slithered her dynamite body down his torso, and buried her exposed pussy into his face.
As if this wasn't enough to send the crowd into a frenzy unlike any ever heard within the confines of the tiny bar, Linda dramatically extracted the banana with a flourish. She tugged at the young man's drawstring of his bathing suit, and proceeded to pull out his engorged sizeable cock, which she swallowed up to the base in a few animated slurps.
The bouncers had a choice to make. Stop the insanity or allow the best marketing ploy The Button had ever seen to continue. Naturally, they did nothing to impede the impromptu oral homage transpiring on the stage, except to join in on the rhythmic claps and howls along with the rest of the appreciative audience.
Linda culminated the show with a massive cum shot to the face, which she licked up like a dripping ice cream cone, all the while with a stoic facial expression similar to that of a ballerina.
The manager of The Button awarded Linda with an extra five hundred dollars as a bonus tribute, making her total take an even grand, along with a mock warning to never (wink, wink) do that again in his establishment. After all, he told Linda with a straight face, The Button had a reputation to uphold of a bar that provided good clean fun, and he didn't want to risk losing his liquor license.
That didn't stop him, and most of the bouncers, from providing Linda with their phone numbers, as she toweled off the remaining cum from her face in the back office. Just in case she wanted to repeat the show in private.
Linda tucked ten crisp hundred-dollar bills into her bikini top, and the legend was born.
In the six months since, the story had taken on almost mythical proportions on campus, especially among the frat houses, where an appearance by Linda at any of the Greek happy hours was greeted with the excitement of Princess Diana coming stateside.
For whatever reason, despite being the "Rush Chairwoman" of the popular Alpha Sigma Alpha sorority, Linda did not frequent many of the Greek parties that were so prevalent on campus, especially during this, rush season. This was the time of year when new pledges were actively being recruited by the individual houses with the best motivation of all. Free booze.
So, when Linda showed up at our house's happy hour on this particular Friday, it was quite the big deal indeed. From my perch behind the bar, serving beer from the keg to the freshmen who were being wooed, I watched with a certain interest. I had never even spoken to Linda, and I'll confess to being somewhat intimated by the reputation.
She arrived with several of her sorority sisters, two with whom I had shared, shall we say, intimate relations. Karen Gregory was one of them, the vice-president and social director of the sorority. Karen had, as they said in the movie Animal House, a "morally casual attitude". Over the past two years, Karen had been with more Greeks than Aphrodite, so my conquest of Karen was surely not anything to brag about.
However, one of the other sisters accompanying Linda was none other than Kathy Nixon, the president of the Alpha house, and renowned for being an "untouchable". Kathy had one of the most classically beautiful faces on any woman, and maybe the biggest rack on campus (40 DD's, easy) but she was also about twenty pounds overweight. Kathy also had a haughty aura about her that suggested that she was too good for the masses. She had a steady boyfriend on the basketball team, and made it known that she was off limits to any advances, to the point of being a complete bitch, if you'll pardon the expression.
Kathy and I shared a secret, however. Kathy spent her summers working in Avalon, New Jersey, the same beach town where I had a summer job. One night there, after meeting Kathy in the Bongo Room when her boyfriend was out-of-town, she invited me back to her rental house. We proceeded to have a night of sexual activity that lasted well into the early afternoon the next day. Up until that point of my life, it was easily the best sex I had ever enjoyed. The best part of it, for me, was that I had induced Kathy into what seemed like hundreds of orgasms over the twelve-hour marathon.
Kathy had made me promise that I would not share this revelation about our one-night carnal tete'-a-tete' with anyone. Since her boyfriend was about six-foot-eight, I agreed it was in my best interest to keep our summertime frolic confidential. We shared a surreptitious smile whenever I saw her on campus, including this night. But it was a one-and-done, and we both knew it.
Sometimes, it's better for everyone that way.
While pouring the beer, I tried to pretend I wasn't staring at Linda's indescribably perfect bubble butt encased in her tight jeans. In fact, I was so focused on my visual target that I didn't even notice when Kathy Nixon and her huge tits (affectionately known in Greek circles as "The Fellas") made their way up to the bar. Kathy always seemed to follow her tits. Funny how that happens.
"Hi, John," Kathy smiled at me in that way when two people are harboring an indiscretion. "When you can break free for a minute, Karen and I would like to ask you something, OK?" I noticed Linda was watching Kathy's approach, and then she turned away quickly. Or was it my imagination?
"Sure, Kath," I said, wiping my the beer from my hands with a towel, trying not to stare at those majestic tits that had my cock buried between them just about six weeks ago. "Give me a minute to get someone to cover for me in here."
