Alistaire Too Ch. 06: Graduation

The story of Al becoming Alistaire was such a big hit, I decided to go ahead and write a sequel series with all the ideas I had but never used in the original. These tales will be a little more disjointed, and jumbled up chronologically. Please understand that a few things in the early parts of each entry in this second series may overlap each other, the endings are arranged chronologically.
I'd like to make a special shout out to the readers and commenters who responded so wonderfully to Alistaire's main tale. His further adventures are dedicated to you.
THE WHERE THEY GRADUATE
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Bridget lay flat on her stomach on her dorm room floor, her face buried in a pillow to muffle her own screams of delight. I lay atop her, her sweet round ass pressing against my stomach as I drove myself into her pussy with the desperation of a guy who was on the verge of climax and knew this would be the last time he ever came inside his partner.
Somehow, the two of us had decided upon saying our sexual farewells in Bridget's dorm room. We had never so much as made out in there, and it seemed appropriate to try someplace new for our last time. Mostly, it had worked out great, but we had, in the space of a few thrusts on our first round of actual intercourse, discovered that dormitory beds appeared to be actively engineered to squeak like a rusty vault door if used for sex, and the rest of our various rounds of coupling had been on the floor.
But now, cocks had been sucked, pussies had been eaten, and the brains had been fucked out of both of us in several positions. We were exhausted, which says a lot, since Bridget and I are both in excellent aerobic condition, and we were hungry too. We could not miss either our final dinner as students, nor the headmaster's Senior Cigar Sendoff. And so, I slammed into Bridget for all I was worth, desperately trying to hold back my orgasm until I felt her give way beneath me so that we could climax that last time in unison.
To be honest, I was wishing that she would just go ahead and come already.
The feeling of my cock stroking into her was amazing, and I knew it was stroking her in very most favorite interior spot. I knew it well, but even if I had not, the way she writhed beneath me was ample evidence.
And I could not stop myself. I hissed, "I'm coming, dammit!" With a groan, I let myself go and felt the rush of semen blast forth from me. I was surprised after our marathon that I had that much volume to give. Beneath me, Bridget's whole body spasmed. Her pussy grabbed my cock in wild, ragged spasms, and her hands against the floor pushed up so violently that she nearly managed a push-up with my on top of her. Her face made good use of the muffling pillow as she yelled wild, incoherent words into it, still loud, but hopefully not enough to be heard beyond her walls.
I tried to keep going, not wanting it to end. I managed a few, feeble, final thrusts, but that was all I could muster. I felt my body sag, and I pulled us over onto our sides, so I would not drop my whole weight on Bridget. We spooned there, my cock still inside her, but it was softening fast, and soon I would never be in her again.
Bridget sagged as well. She tossed the pillow aside and muttered, "Jesus-Fuck, Alistaire! I didn't think you were ever gong to come. It was killing me, waiting for you!"
"Wait," I said, starting to laugh. "You were waiting for me? I was waiting for..." We both giggled uncontrollably for a moment, and then I was weeping uncontrollably.
My exhausted body, so recently wrung out by a marathon of sexual gymnastics, now shuddered in sobs. Tears dripped down and over Bridget's naked shoulder where I buried my face. My dick gave up the ghost and shriveled its way completely out of Bridget.
I felt Bridget crying too. "How," she sobbed, "are we crying after such amazing sex?"
"Because I'm not crying about sex," I sniffled. I hugged her, trying to keep my hands away from any erogenous zones, which was hard with Bridget. I gave up, and slid away from her, just enough to not touch her. She rolled over and we stared at each other.
"I'm crying about... endings... about changes," I said. "Look, you and I will always be friends, right? That's obvious," I said, and she nodded, eyes bright in reply. "We will text. We will email. We will even talk on the phone," I went on. "And we will probably meet up at Alumni Day reunions. But that will just be 'catching up', or 'checking in'." I took a deep breath. "I kills me to face it, but I have to. The chances are very good that the two of us will not ever even be physically in the same state for more than a day or so for the rest of our lives, Bridget! I will never have you in my life the same way again... the way that was most important to me... The way that I so desperately needed."
I looked at her brow furrow a little. "I'm talking about what you have meant to me and my life for the last four years, not the Anadolu Yakası Escort last eight weeks. I owe all or at least part of everything that I am to my friendship with you. I owe the shape I'm in, and the way I dress, and how well I handle friendships to you, Beth, and Carla. And yes, I also owe the insane sexapalooza my life has become... to you."
Bridget snorted, her own mood lightening at that. "You had a good head of steam going on that before you and I first..."
"Not what I mean," I laughed. "I mean that your friendship, and the friendships you helped me build with other people, guys and girls alike, made this possible for me... Made all my life possible for me." I stopped and looked her in the eye. "And tomorrow, I will get a piece of parchment that will mark the official amputation of my best friend."
Bridget looked at me, fresh tears on her face. "I get that same parchment tomorrow too, you know," she said.
"I know," I cut in, whining now. "But you made..."
"Shut up, Al," Bridget snorted. "You changed me too. You have, throughout our four years here, always been just what I needed. When I was a freshman, and I was the next big thing on the Cross-Country team, I was a cocky little bitch who got no respect from the older girls. I didn't even know if I wanted to stick with running. But running with you, talking to you about running... I don't know, being your 'mentor' kept my own mind straight and made my motivations stronger."
"And you taught me that guys are humans, honestly," Bridget went on. "From you, and the open, honest, dependable, fun way you were always there for me, I truly understand how much I can expect to have good male friends, with or without sex."
We looked at each other for a moment.
She snickered. "And I'm just going to say it: once we firmly established the value of a friendship that wasn't going to ever be about sex... You showed me just how mind-blowing sex can feel."
"Yeah," I dead-panned. "I guess, now that you mention it, I will probably miss the sex too..."
She threw her pillow/gag at me. "Come on, asshole," she said, sitting up. "We have to get dressed before we start missing the sex too much and miss dinner instead."
We cleaned ourselves up as best we could and got dressed. But we couldn't quite bring ourselves to part quite yet. We sat apart in the room, in approved inter-dorm visitation manner, with at least three of our feet on the floor, and indulged ourselves in a final bull session.
I suddenly found myself relaxed, the grief well and truly expressed was fading to the dull background ache it would forever remain. Bridget was my last 'goodbye'. There had been no way I would have allowed it any other way.
Poppy, the last girl I had hooked up with, was also my first goodbye. We said our wordless farewell (which actually involved a lot of words shouted at the top of our lungs) at her home near the school. Again, beds are just the absolute best when it comes to sex. I highly recommend that you pick one up.
Jenn and I ended up where we began. I met up with her, as we had planned, late one evening. She surprised me by actually wearing a skirt, instead of her ubiquitous corduroys. She hauled me, laughing down the basement corridor to the once again locked entrance to the Science Annex. There, she showed me that she had worn the skirt for a reason, and I fucked her silly against the wall in the alcove, almost fully clothed but right there in a public, if out of the way, hallway. It was such a scary rush, even though we did not even get close to being caught that time.

Carla and I, of course, had no last hurrah. But we did have a long, long lunch, sitting by ourselves in the dining hall. Yeah, I cried for that one, too. The only other time I got teary was two days before graduation, with Adam of all people. I felt bad once or twice, in those waning days that neither Adam nor Trey had gotten swept up like Ben had in the sexual insanity of my final days at school. I guess, as with all good D