Randolph on Demand

College student Randolph comforts a lonely female. When word of his prodigious manhood becomes known, he is quickly sought after by other sex-starved girls.

Part One

My name is Randolph Pearson. As a kid I was usually called Randy, but I put a stop to that when I was 12 and learned that “randy” was a British slang term for “horny.” From that day forward, I insisted that everyone who addressed me had to use the name that appeared on my birth certificate. By the end of 1983, however, I had acquired a new nickname—Randolph on Demand—but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s step back a few months prior to that. I graduated high school in the spring of 1983 and enrolled in a broadcast-journalism program at my local community college that September. I had always been a top-tier student. My marks were easily good enough to get me into virtually any Canadian university in some degree program, but I knew what my career goals were. I was in the right place. Tuitions at the college were a small fraction of what my friends were paying to attend university, and I could still live at home and drive or take the bus to and from campus. I was a rarity. Many students at the college were out-of-towners who were experiencing living away from home for the first time, either in one of the dorms or in the nearby apartment complexes that catered to them.

I met Jeffery (Jeff) Myers on the first day of classes. He would eventually become a lifelong friend. We had many things in common. We both wanted to get into sports broadcasting, for example. We also enjoyed the same foods, beverages and types of entertainment. Like me, Jeff lived at home. I had to drive about 25 minutes from my home to get to the campus. He came from the opposite direction and could get there in just 10.

One area in which we differed greatly was romancing. Jeff was a classic skirt-chaser. No girl could walk past him without her unknowingly diverting his attention to her physical charms. One day when I was trying to discuss a school assignment with him as we set on a bench outside the administration building, I had to stop talking half a dozen times because I knew Jeff had stopped listening. He became fixated by literally every girl that passed in front of him. If she happened to be an attractive lass, he’d stand up and gawk at her until she was no longer within eyeshot. I finally gave up on the conversation altogether.

“Sorry, Randolph,” he muttered, “but you know how I am. How come you aren’t like that, too?”

“I like females as much as the next guy,” I insisted, “but you are unbelievable. Jeff, do you have any sisters at home?”

“Nope,” he replied. “I’m an only child. Why do you ask?”

“It’s a pet theory of mine, ” I explained. “I figure guys who grow up with sisters are used to having girls around the house. My older sister’s friends were constantly hanging around. Some of them were quite lovely to look at, too, so I got my fill of eye candy for years. A boy who is an only child does not have that simple pleasure. When he gets into public places and sees girls by the dozen, he can’t control himself. Sound familiar to you, Jeff?”

“Maybe there’s something to that theory of yours,” Jeff agreed. “Hey, maybe you should have enrolled in the psychology program instead of broadcasting!”

Jeff was not shy about acting on his urges. He seemingly spent every waking moment, when he was unoccupied by schoolwork, chasing and trying to bed college girls. Thus, he could frequently be found lingering near the girls’ dorm rooms. He enjoyed a remarkable success rate, which surprised me. I figured Jeff was barely average in the looks and charm departments. I immodestly thought I was clearly superior to him in both.

About three weeks into school, Jeff approached me before class started. “I have a favor to ask you, Randolph” he said. “I’ve been spending the last few days getting to know a girl in the nursing program named Marjorie Wilkins.”

“How is she in bed?” I interrupted.

“Fine. Thanks for asking.” Then he amusingly continued without pausing. “Marjorie has a roommate named Hannah Carlson whom she is quite fond of. Shortly after I said goodnight to Marjorie, I got a phone call from her. She said Hannah was feeling terribly depressed and lonely. Her home is 150 miles away—and she’s never been away for this long. I guess you can say she’s homesick. Anyway, Hannah went on a crying jag and said she envied Marjorie because at least she had a college boyfriend to love—and she wished she had one too.”

I was no dummy; I could sense where this was heading. “Ah, so you thought of me, right?"

“You got it!” he replied. “Fair warning: Hannah has only average looks and is a bit on the chunky side, but would you be interested in being her date tonight? Marjorie and I are going to a buffet restaurant and then to see a movie. I told Hannah that I could probably persuade you to be her date and go with us to both. There’s no obligation here, Randolph. Feel free to say no.”

I instantly agreed—which surprised Jeff. “That was a quick yes! Why are you so eager?”

“Well, based on your story, I feel sorry for Hannah; I really do,” I said. “Secondly, I suppose it’s another of my pet theories. I figure this girl will be so grateful for any sort of male attention that she’ll be affectionate...and I mean very affectionate...as the night wears on. I don’t care if she’s no raving beauty. I’m not fussy.” I found out which restaurant Jeff and Marjorie were dining and I agreed to meet them—and Hannah—there at 5:30 p.m.

Part Two

I got to the restaurant about five minutes ahead of my three companions. Of course, I had never met Marjorie nor Hannah, but I recognized Jeff’s car—it was actually his mother’s vehicle—as it pulled into the parking lot. Marjorie, I assumed correctly, was the girl in the front seat beside Jeff, thus Hannah had to be the girl in the back seat. Like a good gentleman should, I opened Hannah’s door for her. I took a quick glance at both girls while they were still seated in the car. Marjorie, a thin blonde, was definitely the more attractive of the two, but black-haired Hannah was certainly alright, too. She looked vaguely familiar; it took me more than a few moments to figure out why.

I greeted both girls verbally. Hannah was apparently delighted by me because she hugged me almost immediately. “Well, you’re my kind of girl!” I said. Then I returned the hug in kind. Hannah did not hesitate to grab my hand as we walked toward the restaurant’s door.

The hostess sat us at a rectangular table for four, each of us seated beside our respective dates. Our waitress took our drink orders and then we headed to the huge buffet of Canadian and foreign foods that made this all-you-can eat restaurant so popular—especially with college students. I got to test another pet theory of mine watching the two girls work the buffet. They only served themselves about a quarter of the volume of food that Jeff and I did. That went along with my assumption: Females on dates never want to look like they can outeat longshoremen—even though they are quite often just as hungry as their boyfriends.

To my great pleasure, Hannah was a terrific conversationalist! Like Marjorie, she was a first-year nursing student. She had a dry, sarcastic wit and was able to talk intelligently on numerous topics, including sports, which were utterly foreign to Marjorie. We all downed our first courses quickly. When I said I was going for seconds, Hannah quickly said, “I will too!” Marjorie joined Jeff in the lineup as well.

When we were about to choose our desserts from the various pies and cakes, it occurred to me why Hannah looked familiar. She resembled, in appearance and mannerisms, my younger sister’s friend Robyn. She too was a little on the heavyset side, but of all my two sisters’ friends, she was by far the friendliest. I told Hannah this (not the heavyset part, of course) which pleased her. I added, “My sister Penny is three years younger than I am; so is Robyn. I think Robyn was trying to get me romantically interested in her—but I just think of her as Penny’s buddy.”

Hannah spoke up quickly. “Well, Randolph, please don’t make that mistake with me. This may sound very forward because I’ve only known you for about an hour, but I want you to definitely think of me romantically. You are a super nice guy—and quite handsome too. May I kiss you?”

“Sure!” I said. I figured I might get a little peck on the cheek, but Hannah was more enthusiastic than that. A full-on lips-to-lips smooch occurred. I was surprised, and the expression on my face clearly showed it.

“Was that too much, too fast?” Hannah asked me in a worried tone when she could not gauge my reaction to her kiss.

“No, not at all! I loved it.” I noted. Then I lowered my voice an octave or two to say, “I’m just trying to figure out how I can politely back out of going to the movie tonight. I’d much rather go back to the dorm with you.” This admission earned me a second and longer kiss from Hannah.

Marjorie and Jeff both laughed. “This blind date is going very well,” Jeff accurately commented. “Yes, maybe we ought to skip the movie entirely.”

Marjorie obviously wanted to speak to Hannah alone, because she asked Jeff and me to get them second pieces of pie from the dessert section. “I hope your girl isn’t trying to dissuade Hannah from getting intimate with me tonight,” I stated.

“No,” Jeff quickly replied. “I think Marjorie would be thrilled if you bedded Hannah. Hey, you’ve cheered her up already in the space of an hour. Sex ought to do wonders for her depression!”

When we got back to the table, plates of blueberry pie in hand, Marjorie said, “I think we should skip the movie, too, and all four of us ought to go back to our dorm room. The only problem is one of logistics. Jeff, you’ve seen how the room is laid out. There are separate beds but there is no bedroom. It’s like a hotel room. So that means...”

I figured it out. “No privacy!” I blurted.

“Right, ” said Marjorie. “But we’re both okay with that. We were wondering if you two were okay with it.”

Jeff and I exchanged glances. Jeff figured he could speak for the two of us. “No problem at all, girls. Guys find this sort of thing to be a real sexual turn-on.”

I figured I ought to be forthright. I announced, “Jeff must be speaking from experience—but I’ve never had this type of experience. But if Hannah is okay with it, why should I object?” Hannah rose from her seat and kissed me again.

We wolfed down our desserts, settled the bill, and rushed back to Girls’ Dorm #3, Room 117 for a wholly unexpected four-person sexual frolic.

Part Three

I left my car in the restaurant parking lot and rode in the back seat of Jeff’s mom’s car with Hannah who became overly affectionate very quickly. She whispered in my ear, “This is all new to me, Randolph. I’ve never had sex in my life. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”

“On the contrary, Hannah, I find it quite endearing and very flattering that I’m your first sexual partner. I hope I can please you,” I noted in a whisper of my own.

Things progressed quite rapidly once we got inside Room 117. Jeff and Marjorie quickly disrobed and got right to their business without a moment’s hesitation. Both Hannah and I could not help but watch them for a few seconds. (From a distance I admired Marjorie’s beautiful pair of firm, round breasts. I envied Jeff.) The copulating twosome was oblivious to our stares.

Our stupor was broken when Hannah sweetly said, “Randolph, to do this, I think we need to get undressed, too.”

I smiled and said, “Yes, Hannah, it’s almost a requirement.” We both laughed and shed our clothing, neither one of us being especially careful about where it fell. The rapidity of our actions to get undressed left my penis not quite fully erect—but not exactly flaccid, either. I began tugging at my shaft to get it at its full glory—and to impress my partner. She was impressed, indeed!

My penis, when fully erect, was eight inches long and abnormally thick, too. I had known I had been blessed with a super-sized tool since the seventh grade when other boys in the gym class changeroom would stare and compare when I headed to and from the shower. “You’d seriously hurt half the girls in the school with that thing, ” said one awestruck classmate.

“I hope to get that chance with that half and the other half,” I proudly replied.

Alas, my sexual adventures in middle school were rare and short-lived. Not much changed in high school. One slutty girl whom I hoped to ravage withdrew her offer for sex upon seeing the size of my weapon. She consoled me with fellatio instead. Thus, I entered college over-equipped for sexual activity, but also generally inexperienced.

Hannah, now nude herself, asked me, “I might be mistaken because I’m new at this, but is your penis longer than average, Randolph?”

“Yes, indeed!” I agreed. “It’s one of my best features...along with my baby blue eyes.”

Our chitchat caused Jeff to pause his vigorous screwing of Marjorie for a second or two to look at what Hannah was referring to. A quick sideways glance caused him to do a double-take. What he saw was probably crushing to his ego—Jeff’s body part was likely undersized—but it bolstered mine considerably.

“Put it to use, Randolph, please!” implored Hannah.

I embraced my new girlfriend. I liked the fact that she was a meaty lass rather than a scrawny one. Unlike Marjorie, Hannah had droopy breasts. But tits were tits, and I was a typical male, so I enjoyed playing with them. As I licked and sucked on them, Hannah could not resist exploring my crotch area. She fondled my testicles and pulled on my shaft. “Gently, honey! Gently!” I coached her. She got the idea quickly and I liked her touch.

“I’m going to lick your pussy now, Hannah, and get it wet for what’s to come.” Hannah responded quite favorably to my strategic licks and fingering. When I figured her cunt was moist enough to receive my dick, I mounted her and shoved my stiff cock into her vagina slowly and sexily. When my shaft was about halfway in, I pulled it back. Then I drove it in about five inches. Hannah was squealing all the while—a combination of pleasure and pain, I suspected. I grabbed her by the hips and shoved it in her as far as I could.

She took it like a trouper and we began rhythmically fucking. It was Hannah and I who were now oblivious to being watched by the other couple as Jeff had fired his load across Marjorie’s abdomen. I deliberately mixed up my fucking technique to give Hannah a variety: short thrusts, long ones, and sometimes stopping altogether to play with her excited nipples. Hannah experienced a strong orgasm. Thirty seconds later, I pulled out of her pussy and fired my sperm at no particular target. It splashed all over her chest and even struck her chin and her cheeks. I raised my arms in celebration—something new for me after an orgasm—because I was so proud of this one. I appeared to have more energy left in me than Hannah who laid on the center of her bed, perspiring, seemingly exhausted from being fucked so well.

All four of us were now lying on our respective beds, embracing our partners. For the first time, Marjorie noticed the size of my still-hard penis and asked, “Jeez, Randolph! Do you have a license for that weapon?” Then she jealously added, “Aren’t you a lucky girl, Hannah!”

Hannah just smiled contentedly and stroked my dick lightly. Jeff, on the other hand, declared. “I can’t compete with that. No more of these group sex outings for me if Randolph is involved!”

Despite Jeff’s feelings of inadequacy, he managed to come a second time, this time with Marjorie riding him to orgasm. Hannah, the sexual newbie, was quite content just to cuddle with me until Jeff announced at about 11 p.m. that he had to get home. That meant I had to leave as well if I wanted to be driven back to the buffet restaurant to retrieve my car. Hannah stopped Jeff’s plans, insisting that I would be sharing her bed all night. Come morning, she’d happily pay for a cab to take me to the restaurant. Hannah had clearly enjoyed her first taste of sexual pleasures.

Later the next day, Hannah telephoned me. “Can you come by today?” she asked.

“Do you want to see the movie we missed last night?” I asked in response.

“No, silly! I want another fuck—the sooner the better.”

I complied. Before I left her dorm room, she gave me a large loaf of banana bread she had prepared specially for me. The next day, it was the same thing. A phone call requesting a fuck, my compliance, and Hannah rewarding me with home-baked goodies. That went on for five consecutive days. When Jeff heard about it via Marjorie, he coined the nickname “Randolph on Demand” for me.

Then things really started getting odd. I got a phone call from a college girl I’d never heard of. When I picked up the receiver, a breathy voiced vixen stated, “Randolph Pearson, I heard about you from Hannah Carlson. She gave me your number. My name is Amelia Sussex. I haven’t seen my boyfriend in a month because my home is 300 miles from this college. I desperately need to be fucked ASAP! Hannah says you might be able to help me. Can you?”

Half expecting to be the victim of a practical joke, I showed up at the dorm room where Amelia said she resided. It was no joke. Amelia was a red-haired knockout who practically ripped my clothes off to get what she desired. For a moment I felt that I was being violated—but I loved it. Amelia stripped into her birthday suit, roughly pushed me down on her bed, gave my rising dick a few sensual licks, and promptly mounted me cowgirl fashion. I happily assisted her bounce up and down on my stiff shaft until I came—and she came. Afterward, we both were quite exhausted. Amelia, engulfed in my arms, said to me, “I’ll call you again very soon. There’s a box of cookies on the table for you. I understand you like to be paid for your terrific services in baked goods.”

I felt compelled to visit Hannah without an invitation for sex. She welcomed me inside her room. I sort of felt guilty about cheating on her with the lovely Amelia, and I sheepishly told her so, but Hannah was having none of it.

“You didn’t cheat on me at all,” Hannah insisted. “I personally recommended you to Amelia. She was feeling deprived of sex—and you are the perfect antidote. You have a natural talent that you need to share with the world. It was what you were put on this planet to do.”

I had certainly never thought of it that way. Who was I to question my role in the march of humanity? My eight-inch friend and I had stumbled upon the world’s greatest pastime.

Hannah handed me a piece of paper with the names of seven other girls at this college whom I’d likely hear from after Amelia had sung my praises. I thanked her for the heads-up and pocketed the note. I was about to leave Hannah’s dorm, but she stopped me.

“Didn’t you notice the half dozen bran muffins on the counter?” Hannah asked me. “They’re an advanced payment for you.”

“I came her on my own volition,” I reminded her, “so I wasn’t expecting to have a sexual encounter with you, Hannah. I’m all in favor of it, though.”

“Those muffins are not from me; they’re from Marjorie,” I was informed with a chuckle. “There’s a note on the box for you. Read it.”

It said, “Jeff’s a sweetheart, but eight inches beats five inches any day, Randolph! Stay put until I return. Together we’ll have some fun!”

I was really starting to enjoy my first semester of college!