It was a gulf I would never crossagain. The bra I clung to so desperately, that wrapped so delicately,meant I would never again compete in a man's dom...in.It meant a lot to me that I remembered the opening lines of Coleridge'sbeautiful poem, Xanadu, and could subjectively compare this place tothat stately pleasure dome. What did that mean? That I was interestedin the arts, in the literature classes where none of the jocks everventured? Where we coeds fantasized about the pampered lives we'd. It kept sliding further and further up inside of me as I lowered myself. Even with me being as wet as I was it still hurt a bit, and I had to stop every now and then. Soon I got into a rhythm of sliding him in and out a little. Every time I lowered myself I took in a bit more. I couldn’t believe how large he was, or how hot I was getting just getting him inside of me. By the time I was resting on his lap I was moaning with my first orgasm. Looking up at his face I saw him smiling at me. Lifting. More

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