Poolside Tease: Virgin College Freshman Gets Fucked

The alumni reception hummed under the high windows of the natatorium, lemonade in plastic cups and old lane records pinned to a board nobody was reading. Tobias, nineteen and a college freshman who had never taken anyone to bed, stood with his back to the trophy case and tried to look like he belonged. Then he saw Miriam.

She was twenty-two, just graduated, back for homecoming in a sundress the color of pool water, her dark hair twisted up the way she used to wear it when she taught. For several years he had been her assistant at these lessons, setting lanes, timing laps, stacking kickboards, ordinary work that stayed ordinary. The change had come the summer he turned eighteen, his last season before college, when she began to tease him on purpose.

He could still see it with the clarity of something he had replayed too often. Miriam on the deck in that tight blue one-piece Speedo, sun on her shoulders, while he treaded in the lane below. She would hook two fingers under the crotch of the suit and draw the fabric aside, unhurried, flashing the dark soft curl of her bush before she smoothed the Speedo back into place as if she had only been fixing a ride-up. His cock had stiffened in the water every time. He had stayed hard and untouched, aching, and she had never once said his name while she did it.

Now she was here, finished with college, and the sight of her bare calves under the hem of that dress dragged the whole summer back into his body. Heat climbed his neck. His pants felt suddenly too tight. She turned from a cluster of alumni, and her eyes found him across the folding tables. Recognition lit her face. The familiar tension returned all at once, thick as the chlorine in the air, and Tobias understood he was already lost.

He had spent the year at college trying to be the kind of freshman who did not freeze when a girl looked at him. It had not worked. No one had touched him. No one had even come close. Miriam was walking toward him now with the same unhurried sway she used on the deck, the sundress moving against her thighs, her mouth already curved like she knew exactly what he was remembering. The cup in his hand had gone warm. He did not put it down.

Miriam stopped close enough that he could smell sunscreen under the chlorine. "Tobias," she said, and his name in her mouth did something low and stupid to his stomach. "Look at you. A freshman already. I wondered if you would come back for homecoming."

"I did," he said. His voice came out rough. "You look—" He stopped, because every honest ending to that sentence was obscene.

She smiled with the same teasing heat he remembered from the deck. "I look like someone who spent a summer watching you get hard in my pool." She said it quietly, for him alone, and the words landed between his legs. "You thought I didn't notice. I noticed every time. That was the point."

His face went hot. "You did it on purpose."

"Of course I did." She tipped her head, studying him the way she used to study a stroke that needed correction. "Blue Speedo, a little tug at the crotch, just enough bush to ruin your concentration. You would go stiff under the water and try to hide it with a kickboard. It was the best part of those lessons, once you were old enough for me to mean it. I have wanted to fuck you since that summer. My eager former assistant, hard and polite and never once brave enough to ask." Her eyes dropped to the front of his pants and came back up, pleased. "Still eager. Still untouched, if I'm reading you right."

"Yeah," he said. It felt like handing her something. "I am. I mean, I haven't. I wanted it to be you. I still do."

"Good." She held out her hand. "The reception is winding down. The indoor pool is empty after hours if you know which door sticks. Come with me. I am going to take my clothes off, and you are going to touch me, and then I am going to fuck you. If you want that. Say it."

"I want that," Tobias said, and he meant it so completely his hand shook when he put it in hers.

She led him past the trophy case, down the side corridor where the lights were already dimmed, and through the sticking door into the indoor pool. The water lay black-green and still. Lounge chairs lined the deck. The far doors were locked. No one else was there. Miriam let go of his hand only long enough to reach behind her neck and loosen the sundress. It fell. She wore nothing under it. Her breasts were full, her nipples already tight in the cool air, and between her thighs the same dark bush she used to flash him from the deck, no longer a glimpse. She stepped out of the dress and stood bare on the tile, watching his face.

"Come here," she said. "Touch me. Anywhere you have been thinking about."

He crossed the deck on unsteady legs. His palms found her waist, warm and real, and she sighed like she had been waiting for exactly that. She caught his wrists and guided his hands up, settling them over her breasts. They filled his palms, soft and heavy, the nipples stiff against his skin. He squeezed, clumsy and reverent, and she arched into it.

"Harder," she murmured. "I'm not going to break. God, your hands are shaking."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be hungry." She drew one of his hands down over her stomach, through the coarse silk of her bush, and pressed his fingers into the heat between her legs. She was already wet. The slick surprised him, hot and slippery, and she rocked against his hand with a small shameless sound. "That's what the Speedo was hiding. Feel how ready I am for you. I've been wet since I saw you by the trophy case."

He stroked her the way she showed him, two fingers sliding along her slit, and she caught his mouth in a kiss that tasted like lemonade and want. Her tongue moved against his, patient and filthy, while she rolled her hips into his hand. Then she pulled back, breathing harder, and nodded at the nearest lounge chair.

"Sit me down. I want your mouth on me before I put you inside. First time should start with you learning what I taste like."

She reclined on the chair, thighs falling open, one foot braced on the tile. The pool light striped her skin. Tobias knelt between her knees, the deck hard under him, and she threaded her fingers into his hair.

"Start slow. Kiss the inside of my thigh. Then use your tongue flat, right up the center. When you find my clit, stay there. I'll tell you if I need more."

He obeyed. Her skin was warm and faintly salt. He kissed higher until his nose brushed her bush, until the smell of her filled his head, sharp and sweet and nothing like chlorine. His first lick was hesitant. The second was not. She tasted rich, slick coating his tongue, and she hummed above him, thighs tightening around his ears.

"Yes. Just like that. Lick me. Don't be shy with it."

He licked her in long strokes, then narrower ones, learning the way she jumped when he passed over the swollen bud at the top. She guided him with her grip in his hair, holding him where she wanted, grinding softly against his mouth. He sucked, experimentally, and her breath broke.

"There. Stay on my clit. Suck a little. Use your fingers too. Two, slow, curl them up."

He slid two fingers into her, astonished at the tight wet clutch, and curled them the way she said. She swore, low and pleased, and rocked onto his hand. He kept his mouth on her, licking and sucking while his fingers worked, and the sounds she made got louder, less controlled, echoing off the empty water. Her heel scraped the tile. Her stomach fluttered.

"Don't stop. Tobias, don't you stop. I'm going to come on your mouth. That's it. Eat me. Make me come."

He stayed with her, greedy now, drinking the flood of her, fingers pumping, tongue relentless on her clit. She came with a sharp cry, thighs clamping his head, pussy pulsing around his fingers in tight rhythmic squeezes. He kept licking through it until she tugged his hair and laughed, breathless, pushing him back.

"Enough. God. Sensitive." She looked down at him, flushed and shining, his mouth wet with her. "Stand up. Get those clothes off. I want to see the cock I spent a summer staring at through pool water."

He stripped with shaking hands. Shirt, pants, everything. His cock stood up hard and flushed, already leaking at the tip, and her eyes went dark with satisfaction.

"There he is." She swung her legs off the chair and pushed him gently backward until his shoulders met the cool tile of the deck, right at the edge of the pool. She straddled his hips, knees planted, bush brushing the underside of his cock. One hand wrapped around him, stroking once, slow, spreading his own wetness. "Virgin. So this is going to feel like too much. That's all right. I'll go slow until you can take it. You tell me if you need me to stop. You understand?"

"I understand. Please don't stop."

"I won't." She rose up, notched the head of his cock against her soaked entrance, and sank.

The heat of her took him an inch at a time. Tight, wet, gripping, nothing he had ever imagined correctly. His hands flew to her hips. A broken sound left his throat. She paused halfway, breathing through her own stretch, then lowered herself the rest of the way until he was buried to the root and her bush pressed against his stomach.

"There," she whispered. "All the way in. How does it feel?"

"Incredible. I can't—Miriam, you feel so good."

"Good boy." She braced her hands on his chest and began to ride, a slow rise and fall that dragged her pussy along every inch of him. "Now you. Thrust up when I come down. Not hard yet. Match me. Like this." She demonstrated, sinking, and he drove up to meet her. The slap of their bodies was soft, wet, obscene in the quiet natatorium. "Yes. Again. Keep that rhythm. Don't chase it. Let me teach you."

He thrust as she coached, hips rolling, watching her breasts sway, watching his cock disappear into her again and again. She was so wet he could hear it. Every time she took him deep she clenched, and the pleasure climbed his spine in a bright dangerous line. She leaned down and kissed him, messy, still moving.

"You're doing so well. Such a fast learner. A little harder now. Put your hands on my ass and pull me down onto you."

He gripped her ass, fingers sinking into soft flesh, and hauled her down as he thrust up. She moaned into his mouth. The pace picked up. Her clit dragged against him on every stroke. He was shaking with the effort of not coming, sweat gathering at his temples, the tile cold under his back and her body burning above him.

"I need—" he gasped. "I'm close already. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for wanting me." She slowed, squeezed around him once, deliberately, then lifted off with a wet sound that made him groan. His cock slapped against his stomach, shining with her. "On your back was for learning. Now I want you over me. I want those hips working. Come here."

She lay back on the deck, hair spilling, and opened her legs. He moved over her, and she reached between them to guide him in again. This time the slide was easier and somehow deeper. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, and locked him there.

"Missionary," she said, almost laughing, almost wrecked. "Classic. Now fuck me. Start steady, then harder when I tell you. I want to feel you lose it."

He braced on his forearms and thrust. The angle was different, her pussy gripping him from tip to base, her breasts pressed to his chest, her mouth at his ear telling him yes, yes, just like that. He found a rhythm and held it, driving into her, the wet sounds louder now, her nails scoring his shoulders. She met every stroke, rolling up to take him deeper.

"Harder," she demanded. "I'm not glass. Fuck me harder, Tobias. Give me what you've been saving."

He let go of the careful pace. His hips snapped, driving into her with everything he had, and she cried out, legs tightening, pulling him in so deep he saw white. The lounge chair scraped somewhere behind them. Water lapped the pool edge in small disturbed waves. He fucked her the way she asked, hard and hungry, and she took it, praising him in a broken voice, telling him how good his cock felt, how long she had wanted her eager assistant exactly like this, buried in her on the deck where she used to tease him.

"Touch my clit," she panted. "Hand between us. Rub it while you fuck me."

He got a hand down, found the slick swollen bud, and rubbed in tight circles while his cock pounded into her. She clenched so hard he nearly came on the spot. Her head tipped back. Her mouth opened.

"Yes. Don't stop either thing. I'm going to come again. Fill me when you go. I want your cum. I want to be the first one who gets it. Come inside me, Tobias. Now."

The permission undid him. He thrust deep and lost the rhythm entirely, hips jerking, a raw sound tearing out of him as he came. Heat pulsed out of him in thick spurts, filling her, and the clutch of her pussy around his pulsing cock dragged it on and on. She came with him, a second climax that fluttered and squeezed, milking him, her legs locked, her voice breaking on his name. He kept moving through it, shallow helpless thrusts, until there was nothing left and they were both shaking, stuck together, his cum already leaking warm around the place they were joined.

They stayed like that until their breathing slowed, foreheads touching, the natatorium quiet except for the lap of water. Miriam kissed him deeply, slow and thorough, tasting herself on his mouth. When she pulled back her eyes were bright.

"I'm proud of you," she said softly. "Proud I got to be your first. You were perfect. Better than I imagined, and I imagined it a lot." She smiled, teasing again, and sat up, his softening cock slipping out of her in a warm rush. Cum shone on her thighs. She stood, utterly unashamed, and held out her hand. "Come on. Naked swim. I've wanted you in this pool without a suit since the day I decided to ruin your concentration." She tugged him toward the edge. "And we can do this again whenever you want during homecoming weekend. I'm not finished with you."

He had spent a year trying to forget that blue Speedo, and the water closed over both of them with the certainty that he never would.