Carrie Minberg, Female, 19

	- Narrator, freshman at Bitterwood

	- Beige, freckled skin, 5'6, 145lbs, curly back-length dark-red or blue hair

Elise, Female, 19

	- Freshman at Bitterwood, Norwegian

	- Pale golden skin, 5'10, 155lbs, shoulder-length light blonde hair

Jonn, Male, early 60s

	- Professor at Bitterwood, Dutch

	- Pale beige skin, 5'6, 175lbs, long white hair in a ponytail, white beard

Ulv and I did have sex a few more times over that first year, and he did get better, I came with him most of the time. I never again shared the twins, though Colt and I had a couple of intense quickies that I enjoyed. Toward the end of the first semester, I reflected on a few things before I flew home for holiday break.

Ulv, Jamal, Kent, and Colt had shared my body, and Elise had come to know it quite well. I'd sucked Lovaldo's cock, just a few seconds of the brown-skinned Brazilian in my mouth on a dare, and I did the same with Qumani's pussy, the short, sweet Kenyan girl with long, braided hair giggling the whole time. But those were just simple play and I didn't really consider them sexual partners.

I started counting those people I did. The first I'd really thought to do so in my life. Twelve. I'd had sex of some sort with twelve people, three girls, nine boys. It was a longer list than I thought it would be, it was easy to let old passions, fading intensity, drift away and remember just the recent lovers. But I counted twelve. That was the first time I really started to consider the term 'Loose Girl,' and whether it applied to me.

It still held all the same old hurts, but they were just that, old. I felt less anxiety with time over the memories of bulling, slut-shaming, the name-calling. At Natural Law, and then Bitterwood, the attitudes toward sex had changed me, let me feel less guilt over enjoying it, wanting it. The old doubts were replaced by sensual assurances that sex was something worth being good at, something valuable.

I always used protection. Always. I was on birth control, but I knew the risk. Most of my classmates did, too, from what I heard, but there were always rumors that one of us was pregnant, or had missed a period or a pill, and an ill-timed ejaculation had sent someone seeking a test of one sort or another.

But no one got pregnant, that I knew of. It was only when the bumps appeared around one of my labia that I knew the condoms hadn't stopped me from catching something.

The tests were a bit inconclusive, but the doctor was pretty sure I had genital herpes. The incurable burden that millions of people shared, and hid.

I was so heartbroken when I heard. There was no way to treat it, nothing I could do at all. I didn't want to tell anyone, and for several weeks in November and December, I didn't have sex with anyone. Elise had several times tried to fuck me, but I made excuses. I didn't exactly lie when I said I wasn't feeling like it, but I didn't tell her the truth, at first.

I found as much information about it as I could. I wanted to know everything, wanted to find the silver bullet that would solve my condition. I found nothing, but I did find out how common and relatively benign it was. Genital herpes is, for most people, just an annoying rash, one which came on strong in the beginning and generally faded off to infrequent or no outbreaks. Many people who carry it had no symptoms, no reason to think they were infected.

I told no one and quieted my urges by masturbating frequently. The first outbreak was mild, the second was worse. I was sore for several days, and I had my first depressive moments during that stretch.

My free sex life was over. Forever. There was no going back. I couldn't fuck anyone without exposing them, and it crushed me just as my sexual life was becoming very exciting.

A week before leaving for the States, Elise sat quietly next to me on the bed. I'd again rejected her advances, and she looked at me with a disappointed look on her face. “Carrie... are you over me?”

“What? No! No, I'm very much in to you...”

“Then why have you stopped putting out.” It was said half-jokingly, but the question was sincere.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Please. Carrie, if it's me, something I've done, just tell me. I love you and all, but something isn't right between us lately, and I'm hurting, I need to know why.”

I bit my lip, and got it over with. “I-I have herpes.”

She leaned back and almost grinned before catching herself. “That's why you won't let me touch you? Herpes? Jeez, Carrie, if that's the worst thing you ever have between you're legs, you're gonna have a breezy ride through life.”

“What?”

“Come on, lots of people have it. In Norway it's no big deal, at least where I'm from. It doesn't spread nearly as easily as people think, and if you have sex enough, you get it exposed to it all the time. Who'd you get it from? Me? Don't think I have it...”

She looked a bit uncertain a moment. I replied, “I dunno... you're the first person I've told, I've known for a few weeks. Could have been Jamal... Ulv... the Twins... you I guess... Don't think it's very easy for women to spread it to each other. One of them, then. Dunno who.”

“Probably should tell them so they can get checked out.” She breathed in and exhaled, smiled, said, “Ok, so that's your big deal. I get it. Now get over it. Having an outbreak today?”

I shook my head.

“Then I'm eating your pussy.”

With that, Elise pushed me back and gave me two quick gushing orgasms that soaked her face and left me panting, wanting more. She fingered me, moved her crotch over my face, and we licked each other for an hour. I lost count of the orgasms, it just felt so good to be with her again, to have someone to share my body with and experience intimacy again.

I told the boys each individually. Ulv was a bit frightened, but the others handled it smoothly. All three claimed they were not infected, but they all planned to get checked out. I found out after the break that each claimed to have tested clean. I knew enough to know mistakes could be made, but I was left without anyone close by to identify as the one who spread the virus to me. In some small way, small but signficant, that made dealing with it hard.

The last day before my flight I sat in on a late night storytelling session put on by one of the senior lecturers. Jonn was older than most of them, probably early 60s. He wore his white hair pulled into a ponytail, his white, scraggly beard a couple of inches long. He looked a bit like Mark Twain, I suppose, though not nearly as much hair on his head.

Jonn was from the Netherlands and lived near the campus. He lectured on ancient and medieval histories, taught us about literature of the Victorian era, and had a passion for surfing, so he'd told us our first day in his class.

All the professors went by first names instead of formal titles like 'Professor Magisun' as I'd have called Jonn any other place. It made the time spent in their classes and lectures feel more personal and did a lot to make the environment a positive, close-knit one.

There weren't any specific rules about sexual relationships with professors. I know. I read all the rulebooks and guidebooks and codes of conducts I'd been given. Nothing said a student couldn't enjoy sex with a teacher, but it really wasn't done, either. Not that I saw, not that I heard from others. Sure, there was always talk about someone being cute or 'fuckworthy,' but that was all, I'm fairly certain.

I began to reconsider the term 'Loose Girl' that week, as I said, and I found the definition had changed under me. I liked what it conveyed, even if I didn't like the memories still attached to it. In my head, it didn't mean 'slut', 'whore', or any of the other insults I'd heard sent my way.

I took it to mean 'open, willing, capable of accepting intimacy with many others'. It would be some years yet before I was ready to use that term, but the roots of that acceptance came from those days.

And by 'open, willing, capable of accepting intimacy with many others,' I began to see that as more than just my classmates. Thoughts of Henri came back to me then, most of the pain shrouded in the way I'd begun to build up the fantasy of fucking Jonn, remembered how much I'd enjoyed Henri, that he was a teacher, older in some ways, powerful.

The difference in age with Henri was significant for someone who's only fifteen. At nineteen, I still felt like anyone over 25 was not terribly interesting. Until Jonn, and I'm still not sure why him.

Jonn wasn't the most attractive professor, and as one of the oldest, he had lines and scars and a thousand other marks on his skin that showed through, showed his time on Earth was far beyond my own.

But he was intelligent, very smart, very fast with a joke or a well-source fact. I found that very attractive, to see his mind work, to watch him smile when someone got what he was explaining. I now know the term is 'sapiosexual,' attraction to intelligence, but then, he just drew me in, and by the last night of my stay that first semester, I'd already spent several nights with a couple of others at storytelling or book discussions with him.

The last night, I was alone with him and one other student, Sia. She was someone I wished I knew better. We were at the opposite ends of what was effectively two somewhat-overlapping groups of friends, and as a result, her friends and my friends rarely met together. I'd talked to her, knew a bit about her, but nothing like the close bonds I'd formed with Elise and, to a lesser extent, some of the others.

Jonn told us a ribald comedy out of Persian history. From memory, no less. He was animated, caught up in his one-man play, spitting out lines with charisma. When he took a break and we talked about the implications of the plot points as-yet unresolved, Sia excused herself and left me and Jonn alone in the room.

He shifted, smiled at me, asked if I wanted him to continue.

I did, and despite an audience of one, he performed the story as if he were in front of the Queen of England herself. He made me feel that way, really. I was the center of his focus, even if just to convey his narrative. But Jonn looked in my eyes often, and I started to catch his. At first, just short glances, but before the end, whole sentences were spoken with our eyes locked together.

When he finished, I applauded, realized I was flushed and sweating. Jonn took a bow and I gave him a standing ovation of one. He said cheerfully, “well, that was fun. Thanks, Miss Carrie, you were a gracious audience.”

I laughed, felt myself soften and draw closer to him. I caught his eyes a couple of times without words, then he said, “care for tea? I think I'll go sit down by the creek if you'd like to join me for tea.”

I didn't know if Jonn was just being friendly or was picking me up, but I was eager either way, and we stopped by his office and then the kitchen where he packed up a small basket and walked me toward The Hill.

He took my arm, and I let him. I wanted intimacy with him, so turned on by his brilliance, his mental strength, that the thought of sharing my body with him felt so right. He took my arm and before we reached the stream, we were holding hands.

We sat quietly a moment, side-by-side, hearing more than seeing the stream in the darkness.

He spoke softly, “so... off home tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, just me and Sia and a couple of others still here. Most everyone left today.”

“Aye. Looking forward to it? Going home?”

“I suppose. I do want to see Mom again, but... this place is really home. I love it here. The classes, my classmates, the professors.” I was looking at him in the dark, his face facing at an angle toward mine. I pursed my lips, and thought about kissing him right then.

I didn't, not sure what held me back. Maybe the fear that I'd misinterpreted things. People my own age, or close to it, were pretty easy to read. I rarely had such a moment of uncertainty about what to do next. Jonn's smooth voice crossed that bridge for us. “Would you like to kiss, Carrie? I'd like that.”

I leaned in, said quietly, “yes.” Our lips touched and let his arms wrap around me. The feeling of his mustache and beard was new to me, and at first, I'm not sure that I wasn't turned off by it. It scratched and caused me to itch, got in my mouth, my nose, a bit annoying, really.

When he soon whispered, “can I touch you?” my body told him. I removed my shirt before his hands moved to my front and caressed my bra-less breasts. I moaned at his touch, his rough hands felt good on my supple tits. He didn't ask me if he could do more than touch me, but I suppose sliding down my shorts and panties made my desires clear.

He disrobed and set his clothes aside, his pale penis glowing in the moonlight, bobbing, not heavy but not small. Jonn's cock slid by my face as he turned, and I grabbed it, brought it to my mouth.

His flesh was very different than other men I'd sucked. Rougher, more veiny, the head less smooth. I liked it and had him moaning as he stood, slowly pushing his cock in and out of my mouth.

Jonn pushed us both down and let his fingers move down to my bush. He seemed to enjoy stroking my dark, curly hairs, spent several moments caressing them, caressing my Mons, tickling my thighs. He moved over my puss and slid two fingers inside me.

I arched and moaned at his touch. Jonn knew how to use his fingers, and he started to settle between my legs.

Herpes. It's so easy to forget you have it when you get into a moment like that. How do you tell the other person? When? Should I insist they take no risks at all, that I'd do all the work and not expose them? I panicked and jumped up, stood as Jonn looked at me confused. He thought he'd done something wrong. “Carrie, my apologies... I thought you wanted this...”

“I did. I do... I... I just can't.”

“What is it? Please don't leave now, we can just sit and talk.”

I sat down, tried to collect my thoughts.

He made a bit of small talk before returning to my reaction. “Sure you wouldn't like to talk it out? If you don't want me to go down on you, or anything else, fine, I just want to know what I've done wrong.”

“Not you, Jonn, not you... It's me. I just... can't... right now...”

“Menstruating? I've earned my red wings many ti--”

I cut him short, “no, not that.”

“Then what.”

The pressure burst and I told him. “I have herpes... just found out a few weeks ago...” I hunched over myself, felt awful, embarrassed, wished I'd never mentioned it.

Jonn put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me in, kissing me. “Oh, sweet girl. That is all? Thank you for telling me. And before I penetrated you, I would have told you that I also suffer this.”

“What?”

“I've had it for many years. Barely notice it's still there, barely worthy of even mentioning. Just bumps in the night and then gone. Such a terribly over-feared thing!”

“So... you have it... so...” An urge I'd not felt strongly came on powerfully just then, and I pushed my body over his. I didn't want him to eat me, didn't want to suck his cock. I wanted Jonn inside me, bareback.

I held his mostly-hard penis in my hand as I straddled him, placed the tip against my labia, and sat down slowly. We both moaned and moved our bodies immediately. Jonn humped up into my vagina while I rode him steadily, my puss grown creamy, streaks of my cum sliding down his shaft.

I didn't stare into Jonn's eyes, instead I kept mine closed and prepared to feel him ejaculating inside my body. It had been a long time since I'd felt that, and I wanted it very badly from Jonn.

His body shook and I rode him a long time before he moved me onto my back and penetrated my puss again, his cock slimy and slick, matching my gaping hole. Jonn fucked me hard, pounding into my body. I slid a hand to my clit and twirled it to an orgasm.

He didn't slow down as I came, and neither did I. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his back, thrust up against his body. My fingers danced on my clit, building again. Jonn leaned over me, putting more weight on my hips and stomach. His penis swelled and stretched my vagina. He moaned, grunted, and emptied himself inside me.

Jonn came a ton, several strong, heavy spurts splashed inside my body. I held him to me as he shuddered, ejaculating his semen deep in my hole. He moaned long after he'd finished, then slowly crawled off of me. He pulled back, looked at the mess of my cummy vagina, smiled at me. “Well... It has been a long time since anyone's let me do that.” He leaned over me and we kissed just a moment before he put away his penis and I put my clothes on.

I know it had been risky, that there were other, far worse infections he could have exposed me to. I knew it then. But I had started to think I'd never feel that again, my infection keeping me from ever again taking a man bareback, feeling him ejaculating his hot semen inside me.

Jonn changed all that, and though we never fucked again, I always kept a warm place for him in my thoughts.

We finished our tea and packed up, walking back close but not touching each other. It was one of the few encounters I've had in my life that I didn't endless relive and reconsider. Those few minutes fucking Jonn didn't need it. I don't know why. It was pleasant, and we both enjoyed it, and it wasn't going to happen again. We both seemed to accept that easily, and when I left for the airport early the next day, I was already turning over in my mind what to do about my infection and how to convince someone to have sex with me despite it.