I had just graduated college in May of 1986 and was in the process of going on job interviews throughout California. I was twenty-three and had no real plan for my life. It took me six years to earn my degree as I had changed majors and universities after three years.

I would have taken just about any job that was offered to me, except retail. I wanted a Monday through Friday, eight to five gig. My father had been working retail for thirty years, and I did not want to be perceived as following in his footsteps, nor was I keen on sporadic hours or working weekends.

About twenty-five of my close friends stayed in Sacramento for the summer, so a group of us would get together several nights a week to party at one of our apartments or go out to some of the local college bars.

Surprisingly, within two weeks I landed a sales job in the Los Angeles area with the world’s largest wine company. I’d be calling on chain grocery stores like Safeway, Vons, and Albertson’s. I was to start the Monday after July 4th. I spent the next two weeks finding an apartment in Orange County and started to plan for my move.

The Thursday before I moved, the group planned a going away party for me at a chain Mexican food restaurant bar. This was a location we frequented often and was extremely popular with the college crowd. In total, about fifteen friends showed up and we partied late into the night. I spent Friday nursing a hangover and finished packing up the rest of my stuff. After lunch, I rented a U-Haul truck and started loading up my boxes, my bed, bike, etc. The only thing left in the apartment was my extra-long eight-foot couch, a hand-me-down from my parents three years prior. My plan was to sleep on the couch on Friday night, and then have my buddy Tim, who I talked into helping me move to LA, load it in the truck before we left in the morning.

I was laying low on Friday night watching TV after dinner when the phone rang. When I answered, I heard a familiar voice, “Hi, John. Can I come over and say goodbye one last time?” It was Debbie.

Debbie and I instantly connected when we met a few years earlier. She had dated a fraternity brother of mine the two previous years, but in my senior year, they broke up but remained friends. She had always flirted with me, and I certainly thought she was cute. I would have loved to ask her out on a date, but I just could not because of “The Code,” where you don’t date a buddy’s ex. Debbie was of average height, had a nice small body, full tits, and a pretty face with shoulder-length dark brown hair.

Twenty minutes after the phone call, there was a knock on the door, and I yelled, “Come in!” Debbie walked in carrying a six-pack of beer, an un-popped bag of microwave popcorn, and announced, “I thought we could watch a movie tonight.”

We got settled on the couch and soon were arm in arm, watching the movie. As we were about thirty minutes into our movie, Debbie hit pause stopping the movie and asked, “How come you never asked me out?”

“Yeah, the whole Steve thing. He’s a frat brother,” I said.

“I get it,” Debbie said with the sound of disappointment.

Trying to cheer her up, “You know, I think you’re super cute. And we have always flirted since day one. Just weird circumstances,” I told her.

“So, if Steve never existed, you would have asked me out?” Debbie asked.

“Hell yes! I would have been all over you!” I said enthusiastically.

“Really?” she asked.

Squeezing her towards me, I said, “And I mean all over you. I think you’re really cute!”

“You do?” she said as we finally made eye contact as she turned towards me.

The temperature was rising, as well as something in my Ocean Pacific shorts. “I do,” I said.

Debbie twisted a bit, put her left hand behind my neck, and pulled my head towards her for a kiss. A soft lip kiss. And another. And then our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

I pulled her on top of me as I lay down on the couch. Debbie instinctively straddled me in the cowgirl position as we began a hot and heavy make-out session. Soon, my hands made their way to her fabulous full boobs. This caused her to sigh, “Oh, yes.”

I took this as a sign of encouragement, so I caressed her tits more and tried to pinch her nipples through her tank top and bra. “May I take off your shirt and bra?” I asked, like a true gentleman.

Debbie instantly ripped off her shirt and unclasped her bra, releasing her milk melons. Looking back at it now, I believe Debbie had 34DD or possibly 36DD breasts. They were big and full. And on this evening, they were all mine! I instantly began kissing and licking her lovely jugs as she was grinding her pussy into my cock.

“Let’s trade places,” I told her. As she lay down, I went straight to her shorts and unsnapped the waistband button, unzipped her shorts, and pulled them off her suntanned legs. There she lay, fully naked on my living room couch. And better yet, she had the look of lust in her deep brown eyes.

“Take off your clothes,” she said. I stood up and tossed my tee on the floor. I unbuttoned my Ocean Pacific shorts and let them drop to the floor leaving me in just my small bikini-style briefs. “Damn, you have a great body, Johnny.” And she was right. I was six-two and 195 pounds with a thirty-six waist and a forty-eight chest. I was chiseled due to my training for triathlons. As I pulled down my briefs, my fat six inches jumped out and pointed towards the ceiling. Oh, to be twenty-three again.

I joined Debbie on the couch, positioning myself between her legs. I resumed kissing her and slowly moved down her body. Her white boobs stood out against her golden-brown tanned skin. She had small areolas with tiny nipples. They reminded me of raisins, and they tasted just as sweet.

As I licked and sucked on her full perky boobs, a hand went down to her pussy. I dug my way past her full hairy bush and found her slit. Debbie was so wet, making it easy to slide my finger up and down her folds. She began moaning and groaning as I played with her kitty. I knew I had to taste this woman, but the couch was not going to work well for a night full of adventure.

“Let’s move into Dave’s room,” I said. Recall, my bed and frame were already loaded into the truck. Thankfully, my roommate had gone home for his brother’s high school graduation party that morning. “He has a queen bed.”

“We’re going to fuck on Dave’s bed?” Debbie asked, giggling.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I said, not knowing what was going to happen during the night.

We shared a laugh talking about us having sex on Dave’s bed as he was not a fan of Debbie, thinking she was a snotty sorority girl. She wasn’t, but she could be perceived that way since she was always dressed up in name-brand clothes, drove a really nice BMW, and we heard from Steve that her dad was very rich. After all, she was from the luxury gated East Bay area of Blackhawk. Many of the Oakland Raiders and A’s lived there, as well as the rich yuppies of the mid-1980s.

Debbie became the aggressor in our new surroundings, stroking my cock, and moved to get between my legs. While holding my cock, she took the helmet into her mouth and gave it a little suck and a flick with her tongue. She then licked up and down my shaft several times before deepthroating my entire length, pressing her nose into my untamed and wild garden of pubic hair.

I was moaning and telling her how good it felt, giving her encouragement in hopes that she’d continue with her wonderful oral skills. I finally asked, “Can I cum in your mouth?”

Debbie briefly stopped, looked me in the eyes, and told me, “Please do.” And she went back to bobbing up and down on my girthy manhood.

I was soon bucking my hips into her mouth, synchronizing my thrusts with her bobbing. “Oh, shit. Debbie, I’m going to blow soon,” I told her. She just mumbled something as she continued sucking me. “Play with my balls,” I asked her.

She had one hand on my cock and now one on my balls, gently fondling my boys. Just that little touch to my sperm vault was the key to unlocking my orgasm. My nut sack tightened, and my legs shivered a tiny bit. “I’m going to cum!” I exclaimed. “Oh, fuck yes!” I yelled as I shot my hot streams of spunk into Debbie’s warm wet mouth. I looked down to see her looking right at me. She knew how I was feeling when she saw my giant grin.

“Amazing! That was awesome, babe,” I told her.

Debbie slowly released my still hard cock from her mouth and quickly swallowed my salty semen. “That was fun!” she said.

“Ok, now your turn,” I said. There was an unsaid consent that the night was going to be a one-time fuckfest.

Debbie and I traded positions again, and her honey pot had the musky aroma of a woman who was hot and wet, and ready for sex. I slowly entered her pussy with a finger again. Damn, this woman is so wet.

I buried my face into her pussy as I wildly licked her pussy. Now, I must admit, I had no clue what I was doing when eating pussy back in 1986. Thankfully, Debbie was the woman who gave me an anatomy lesson and explained to me what to do.

Following her directions, I soon became a pussy eating guru. She was moaning and grinding her hips. And she was flowing like a river, her pussy juice tasted like a tart pineapple candy.

I placed my free hand on her boob and was lightly squeezing her full tits. As I started pinching her nipple she told me, “Pinch harder.” I did as asked, and she began moaning even louder. “Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m close,” she continued.

I started banging her sex box hard and fast and alternated pinching both nipples with everything I had in my fingers. “Cum, Debbie!” I quickly said as I removed my mouth from her clit.

“Fuck yes!” she exclaimed as her legs spammed and my face could feel more of her sweet nectar flood out of her love tunnel. Debbie was gasping for air as she mumbled, “That was amazing.”

I moved up the bed to cuddle her. In doing so, my hand went between her legs and landed in a huge wet spot. My palm was soaked. Debbie rested her head against my chest as she nestled into my right arm and shoulder.

After a minute of silence, I said, “I need a beer. Want one?”

“Definitely,” she answered.

I soon returned with the beers and thanked her for the tips on eating pussy. “Don’t mention it. It was all for my pleasure. You did a great job,” she said laughing. “Seriously, if you eat pussy like that with the next woman, she will be so happy.” And Debbie wasn’t kidding. I’ve had many women compliment me on my oral skills over the years. I always joke that a college girlfriend taught me everything I know.

After ten minutes of kissing and finishing our beers, I started to touch her all over again. Boobs, pussy, arm, legs, and ass. She knew where this was going and wanted a one-way ticket to “Pleasureville.”

Debbie put a few pillows behind her head and spread her legs. I kneeled between her legs admiring her body, especially those big, beautiful boobs. She saw me staring at her bosom and took them in her hands rubbing them. “You’re a boob man, aren’t you?” she asked.

Laughing, “I sure am. I’ve been wanting to suck on yours for almost three years now.”

Looking at my erect penis, she said, “Why don’t you tittie fuck the girls?”

I moved up and as my cock rested on her chest, she pushed her tits together and her cleavage swallowed my nice, fat, six inches. As I started with a slow thrusting motion Debbie tilted her head forward so that when I thrust, she could lick my crown. Taking her cue, I gathered some saliva and drooled into her cleavage giving myself some spit-lube.

As I continued, I commented, “Fuck, that is so hot! I’d love to bust my nut and give you a pearl necklace.”

“Don’t you dare! I want you to cum in me. I want you to fill my pussy,” said this sex vixen. I would have never guessed that prim and proper Debbie would be such a dirty little girl.

“Are you on the pill?” I asked.

“Yes. It is safe to cum in me,” she said.

I moved down and easily guided my cock into her pussy. As we started to fuck, Debbie turned into a moaning machine. “Oh shit, you’re so thick compared to Steve. Your cock feels so good in me,” she said. “I haven’t had sex in four months,” she confided.

Not wanting to cum too soon, I asked about her favorite positions. Debbie told me, “This - missionary -, cowgirl, and doggy are my favorites.”

“Perfect. They're mine, too,” I said trying to keep up my motion.

After a couple of minutes, we switched places, and she climbed up on my pogo stick and started bouncing. The sight of her tits and hair flying in the air was delightful. I grabbed both tits hard - really hard. I thought for sure she was going to knock herself out as they were hitting her jaw area.

“Doggy. Fuck me on all fours,” she panted.

We moved into position, and I had easy access to her sloppy wet gash. My balls were slapping her pussy as I drove my dick deep into her hot box.

I looked in Dave’s dresser mirror and I could see us fucking, Debbie’s big tits hanging and swinging as I pounded her backside. “Fuck, we look so hot in the mirror,” I told her.

Twenty seconds later she told me, “I cum easiest in missionary. Let’s switch again.”

I was having one of the best fucks of my young life, so I was going to do whatever this nympho wanted. I was soon driving my cock into her with me again on top.

As I pounded her as fast as I could, Debbie said, “Stop. Stop. Stop,” as she was trying to grab the skin on my back. “Oh fuck! I’m cumming!” she yelled. I felt the rush of warm liquid on my cock and balls.

I busted my nut, shooting rope after rope of my jizz deep into her love canal.

“Holy shit,” she said. “I squirted. I’ve only done that once before with my vibrator.”

As I previously said, I was a bit naïve. Squirted? I thought to myself. “What do you mean?” I asked as I finally pulled my soft cock out of her cum filled pussy.

“Squirted. Not urine, but a liquid, like my pussy juice. It’s an intense orgasm,” she tried to explain.

I was on my knees and upright. Debbie moved one hand between her legs and felt the sheets. “Oh shit. It’s soaked,” she said.

We both got up and were in a bit of a haze from the three beers and powerful orgasms we just experienced. “Let’s take a shower,” I said.

As we let the warm water run over our youthful bodies, I admitted that I had no clue what squirting was, or that a woman could do such a thing. “Most guys don’t. I didn’t know about it until I did it months ago with my vibrator. I had to ask my aunt.”

After we kissed and touched each other, Debbie dropped to her knees for a quick blowjob. “Damn you have a great dick, John.”

I threw on my shorts, went out to the U-Haul, and found a couple of bath towels to put down on the wet spot so Debbie and I could cuddle after the shower.

My alarm went off at 6:00 am and much to my surprise Debbie was still in my arms. Everything came flooding back to me. The movie, the kissing, getting naked, having sex, the squirting, and the shower.

As she opened her eyes, I smiled. “Good morning, beautiful,” I said.

“Last night was so much fun. I wish you weren’t moving,” Debbie said.

“Me too,” I said, wondering if we could really date if I stayed in town. For a split second, I considered not moving to LA.

“I better get going. Lisa is going to wonder where I am if I’m not home when she gets up to go to work at seven,” she said.

“And I have to pick up Tim in thirty minutes. I want to shower to wake up too,” I told her.

We moved to the living room where Debbie put on her clothes. We hugged, kissed, and looked deep into each other’s eyes. Shit, I had feelings for this woman.

“Call me when you get your phone hooked up in Irvine,” she said.

“I promise,” I told her.

She looked down at my cock, grabbed it, and looked up at me with a devilish grin, “I want more of your cock. I might have to visit you soon.”

“I’d like that,” I said. I gave her one last kiss on the lips and opened the door for her. She got in her car and waved as she drove away.

Before leaving that morning, I wrote a note to Dave. “Sorry, but I fucked Debbie on your bed, and she soaked your sheets. Sorry. Long story.” And I left a ten-dollar bill.

That October, Debbie came to Irvine, along with another sorority sister, Denise. I had visions of a weekend of sex, but that never happened. I ended up with one late-night make-out session.

Flash forward three years and I received a phone call from Denise. Debbie had passed away. Unknown to almost everyone, Debbie had been battling cancer for four years, dating back to my senior year of college. Denise said she knew, as well as her old boyfriend Steve, but that was all. “You were on the top of her list to call. She talked about you all the time,” she told me.

I attended Debbie’s funeral the following week, and it was like a mini-reunion between my fraternity and her sorority. I chatted with several friends but left the post-funeral luncheon after an hour. I was in no mood to make small talk when I was so bummed out. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I had tears running down my face. It was a long drive back to Sacramento.

The End.