Old Crushes

Clair had leaned back and was moaning lightly as the jock worked two fingers into her cunt while licking her clit. She had her shirt up and was playing with her nipples; Matt noted that they looked just like in his dream last night, two perfectly round apples.

He had a thought that maybe it hadn't been entirely a dream when someone else nudged him a bit, this time moving his legs apart, and he looked down to see a dark skinned hand reach in and unzip his pants, pulling out his dick.

As she began to stroke him, Matt followed the arm up to the naked chest of the girl sitting next to him, firm Ds jiggling slightly with her fisting, dark brown nipples standing up proudly, and then farther up to her face, framed by black hair. It was Sam Luciet, one of Mary's friends, Matt now realized, the black cheerleader who had been in the front. Matt stared; he hadn't seen her in a few years, and he had to admit that she had filled out nicely.

"I know the tradition is that the winning team and their fans get to pick from the losing team's fans, but I've wanted to fuck you since I was 12. Any objections?" she asked, playfully emphasizing her points by throwing in a twist to her fisting.

Matt, slightly drunk, but not THAT drunk, stared at her as she continued to fist him. He took in her completely exposed body: the high, firm tits, the clean-shaven pussy, her toned stomach, the contrast of her chocolate skin against his pale complexion, her long black hair. For a second, he wondered what this would do to his relationship with Mary, but that thought was driven from his mind as Clair moaned from behind him; the wet squelching sound let him know that she clearly had no worries about going all the way with some random boy from Mamaroneck. Even so, the best response he could manage was to shake his head.

A film club member, capturing the action around Matt, gave him an OK, but didn't stop filming.