Always Used To Hate Harps

I stayed up in Ithaca the summer after my sophomore year because I wanted to pick up some more language credits. Took a six credit French class. There was a coed in the class - a Jewish, sorority girl whom I’d heard vague rumors about. They said she’d scored 1600 on her SAT’s; that she was an exhibitionist who would compete in contests at fraternity parties to see which girl would raise her skirt the highest; that she would X and then go through guys like potato chips; that she had a big collection of sex toys that she would loan out to her sorority sisters on occasion; that sort of thing.

After about the first week or so of classes, we ended up sitting next to each other. There were about 15 students in the class and we all sat around one large rectangular table. The girl, Molly, almost always wore short denim skirts and, if it wasn’t too hot, white stockings. She was a slender, waif-like brunette, nearly flat-chested, and sexy as all hell.

Class met twice a day - before and after lunch, and it was brutally enervating. One day, during the second week, Molly wrote “I’m sooo bored” in her notebook and slid it over until it nudged mine. I wrote “Ditto” and then she leaned her leg against mine. I rested my hand just above her knee. She wrote, “Higher.” I moved it up just past her stocking and pinch the soft, bare skin there. “Keep going,” she wrote.

I cupped my hand right over her panties and pressed into the cleft. She wrote, “Gasp.” So I settled into a rhythm rubbing back and forth over her pubic bone, and on each downstroke trying to work more and more material into her. She kept writing - in pencil - her handwriting getting more and more erratic; degenerating from words to pictures to arrows finally to symbols which could only have been some sort of private code. She parted her legs wider and wrote “There! There! I’m, I’m - “ then she broke the point of her pencil against her notebook.

And so the summer went. Twice a day we would do this. One afternoon, as we started she wrote “Take my panties off. I have a surprise.” She pressed her hands down against her chair and raised herself up a few inches. I slid her panties down past her knees. She pulled one foot through and then spread her thighs. As soon as I touched her, her breathing changed and she wrote, “It won’t take long now. Feel inside.” She was already very wet and soft. I slid in my middle finger as far as I could and I hit something hard and round and felt a “clink”.

She wrote “Ben Wa balls. I’ve been juicy all day.” I kept my finger pressed up against the one ball and started spinning it while my thumb strummed over her clit. “Wicked” she wrote.

“Wicked.” She came after at most two minutes and then she wrote, “Come by my sorority tonight. I’ve got another surprise.”

I showed up just after dinner. There were only about fifteen girls staying there over the summer and Molly met me and quickly dragged me up to her room.

“Get undressed,” she said.

“What’s the surprise?”

“You’ll see,” she said, “Just take off your clothes. I’ll be right back.” And she ran out of her room and headed down the hall.

I stripped down to my underwear and started poking through her clothes. She had two drawers of lingerie, each with about ten potpourris in them. When I heard her footsteps coming back I closed the drawers up and sat on the bed.

“All right, Mol, what’s the plan?”

She started stepping out of her shoes and took off her shirt right away. She wasn’t completely flat-chested, and her nipples stood out prominently.

She slipped out of her skirt and let her panties drop to the floor and stepped out of them. “Well,” she said. “Ready?” I stood up and pulled off my underwear as well.

“I take it that means yes,” she said and went into her closet.

I could hear her open up a trunk. She returned in a few seconds.

“All right. Get down on your hands and knees.”

“What’s in your hand?”

“You’ll see. Trust me.”

“Lemme see it.”

She opened up her hand to reveal what looked like two Ben Wa balls connected by about a foot of wire.

“Great,” I said, rubbing my neck. “A garrote. Great. I can hardly wait.”

She walked over and put one hand around my wrists and her fist between my shoulder-blades. “C’mon, hands and knees. And it’s called a butt-harp. You’ll like it. I promise.”

I complied and soon I felt her pushing one of the balls up into me.

“No lube?”

“It dampens it. Just relax,” Then she dropped to all fours as well, slide the other ball into her and crawled away from me until the wire was taut. She reached back and gave the wire a little pluck. I started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Look at us.”

“Wait. It gets better.”

As I reached back and started plucking at the wire myself, Molly yelled, “Kelly…”

I heard someone run to Molly’s door. I looked back; the door opened and in walked one of Molly’s sorority sisters, a buxom Irish redhead with freckles all over her shoulders and upper arms. She was carrying a violin bow.

“Hi. You’re Rich?” she asked.

“Um, yup.”

“I was in your Shakespeare class. I’ve never quite seen you like this before…”

“Very funny, very funny.”

“Do it,” said Molly.

Kelly knelt between us and started drawing the bow back and forth across the wire. I started laughing again but it felt really good.

“Faster, ooh,” said Molly. “Play some Paganinni.”

“No. No caprices. We don’t want Rich to have a messy accident. Maybe the Bach violin concerto…”

I was moaning and my breathing was short and choppy.

Molly said. “Wow. I wish I had a prostate.”

“Turn over,” said Kelly.

We both did and the wire was an inch or two off the ground, her thighs over mine.

As Kelly ran the bow over the wire with her left hand, she stuck two fingers in her mouth then ran them over Molly’s clit.

“Oooh, so hard,” said Kelly. “Feels like a marble.”

I had never felt anything so excruciatingly pleasurable and I curled my fingers into the rug.

“You’re going to come aren’t you, Rich?” said Kelly, who then slipped her thumb way into Molly and pinched at her clit with her first two fingers.

“Ooooh,” said Molly. “I’m gonna come. Ooooh. Nice…” Kelly increased her finger activity and I pushed my penis forward, until it pointed away from me.

“Prepare for splashdown, Mol,” said Kelly, who stopped with the bow for a second and scooped a drop of precum off of me and tasted it. “Mmmm, salty.”

That did it. I heard it land on Molly’s stomach. Kelly slid it down and rubbed it into Molly.

I sat up, butt-harp still in place and said, “Where the hell did you get that ?!”

“My brother brought it back from Singapore. He’s in the army.”

“Man.”

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