From: ldoering@engin.umich.edu (Laurence Doering)
Subject: HEY FRESHMEN!  SEX SEX SEX!  FRESHMAN SEX!
Date: Fri, 11 Sep 92 03:38:44 EDT
Organization: Lemming's Letters Column

I read your letters column in every issue, but I never thought any of
that stuff would happen to me.  Well, maybe in some sort of hazy wet
dream that I'd forget as soon as I woke up, leaving me to try to hide
the sticky evidence on my sheets from my roommate in the morning, but 
not in real life.  Boy, was I wrong.
It's rather embarassing to get a hard-on while lying on the cheap 
industrial carpet in a girl's dorm room, but Megan does it to me
every time.  Okay, one time anyway.  It all started at my dorm's 
frosh orientation party.
I was standing against the wall in the dorm lounge, listening to yet
another song by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, when she came up to me.
"Hey," she whispered huskily.  "Whadja get on the SAT?"
Well, I didn't know what to say.  Imagine, a girl coming up and
_talking_ to me!  "Uh... 770 on both," I stammered.  "Wow," she said.
"Where're you from?  Nassau, or Suffolk?"
"Ummm... North Jersey.  Hackensack," I managed to reply, staring at
the gap between the bottom of her T-shirt and her tight jeans.  I could
see her navel.
"Oh," she said, and walked away.  Darn, I thought.  Struck out again.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
The party was breaking up around 1 am, and I was just about to go back
to my room and watch "Dobie Gillis" on cable when she came up to me again.
"I'm Megan, by the way," she mumbled drunkenly.  "Wanna come to my room?
I've got some clove cigarettes."
Man, I'd heard about them, but never smoked one.  This was the chance of
a lifetime.  "Ummm... yeah, I guess," I said.  Following her up the stairs
and down the hall, my eyes were riveted to the seductive sway of her
athletic buttocks, encased in acid-washed denim.  She opened the door
and motioned me inside.  "My roommate's gone home for the weekend," she
said.  My mouth went dry.
I sat down in the middle of the floor as she kicked her shoes off and
lay back, resting her head on the massive pile of stuffed animals at the
head of her bed.  The teeth of my zipper groaned under the strain as she
leaned over to the night table to light some incense, and I caught a glimpse
of her bra strap up the sleeve of her T-shirt.
By now, my hard-on was definitely demanding attention.  I shifted to a 
slightly more comfortable position as she lay back again.  The next four
hours passed like a dream - we talked about our parents, what we were going
to major in, and how much we hated the food in Stouffer Commons.
All good things must come to an end, though.  Just as it was starting to
get light outside, she let her hand hang off the bed.  "Man, I'm tired,"
she said sleepily.  Seizing the moment, I took her hand in mine.  "Well,
I guess I'd better be going to bed myself," I said softly.  "Mhhrfff...,"
she replied.  I would have kissed her hand, but I was afraid to.  "Well,
good night," I murmured, slipping out the door.
I couldn't keep from grinning as I staggered back down the hall, the
pressure in my groin driving me wild.  She'd actually talked to me!
Visions of Megan danced through my mind as I snuck into a toilet stall
in the men's room and began to masturbate.  I'd probably run into her
again tomorrow, and then... who knows what could happen?

ljd
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