by Jordan Blake
The only thing I hadn't predicted was how dominant he would be, how authoritative, and that was an extremely pleasant surprise. He was no boring college kid—nervous, fumbling around. Or worse — a douchebag frat boy, pawing me and caring nothing about what turned me on. No, Mister Sheffield was a real man. He knew about seduction. He was constantly watching my face, examining my reactions to see what I found sexy. He knew what he was doing.
Sure, I'd had to take a little initiative to get it started. That made sense, though. He thought of me as just the girl next door, so it wasn’t surprising that he’d had some inhibitions about starting something up with me. I'd had to get a little creative to overcome them, but, clearly now that we were in it, he was ready, willing, and — this was the most important part — able to take full control.
As I stood in front of him, completely exposed to his hungry eyes—which were roaming over me with the naked intensity that sent a wave of heat swimming over my skin—I felt vulnerable in a way that was entirely new to me. In other encounters, even my first time, I always felt like I had the upper hand. I had something the other person wanted, so I was the one in control.
With Mister Sheffield, I most certainly did not feel like I had the upper hand. He was in charge here, that much was clear. And yet, even though the dynamic was completely different, one thing was entirely the same. He wanted me. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his muscles coiled, like a lion ready to spring. He wanted me. Badly. And I’d never felt more beautiful than I did under his lustful gaze.
He walked over to stand so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. I tilted my head upward, expecting him to kiss me, but that wasn't what happened. He ran his hands down my arms and then back up my sides. Down over my hips, up over my back... All over my body, up and down, covering pretty much every inch.
Except for the two places I wanted him to touch — my nipples and my pussy. He steered clear of those, but every single other place on my body felt the firm touch of his fingers.
I couldn't help feeling that this was some sort of inspection. That he was examining my body to see if it met some undefined standard. The good thing for me was, I could tell by the look in his eyes as he touched my flesh for the first time that, whatever the test was, I was passing it with flying colors.
He stood straight and again I tilted my face up toward his, still expecting that kiss. It still didn't come.
“Open your legs,” he commanded roughly.
I did as he instructed and he rewarded me by sliding one hand down my belly, his palm flat against my skin. There was a difference from before, though, and it was an important one. Rather than stopping and sliding his touch over my hips, he continued straight down, slipping his fingers inside my panties and curving them around so they caressed my hot, wet folds.
He moved them up and down on my slit, caressing me softly and tenderly, all the while looking directly into my eyes. "You're so wet and ready for me," he rasped. "Aren’t you?"
"Yes.” I breathed.
He smiled a small mysterious smile. It didn't give me any clue as to what was going on in his mind, but it did let me know he liked what was happening between us. "Good girl," he said flatly.
Throughout the exchange, he never broke the rhythm of his fingers inside my panties. He moved them up and down, brushing my clit with each stroke, and every once in a while, slipped them inside me, applying pressure inside my tight cunt.
Electric waves washed over me in rhythm with his fingers. My knees weakened, my head spun. I wanted more than anything to reach up and grab onto his strong arms for support, but I sensed that would break the spell. What he wanted me to do — what I was supposed to do — was stand still and let him caress the most intimate part of my body. To do nothing but look into his eyes as he did so. To let him know that I was giving myself to him, totally and completely.
He never told me it was what was expected, but somehow, it was as clear as if I had been given written instructions, and I was more than happy to comply.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take the exquisite torture one moment longer without either fainting or exploding, he abruptly pulled his fingers away, slid one arm behind my back and one arm under the crook of my knee and swept me up off of my feet — literally this time, not metaphorically like he'd been doing in my mind for months now.
He carried me to the bed and lay me down on top of the pink duvet. He trailed his fingertips down my body slowly, still maintaining eye contact. When they reached the top of my panties, he hooked them into the fabric and said gruffly, "Now it's time to see that sweet little pussy I just felt."
Then, rather than pulling them off slowly and seductively as I would've expected, he yanked them roughly over my thighs and tossed them carelessly into the corner.
It sent such a powerful jolt of arousal through me that I whimpered.
He was as good as his word. He pushed my knees apart and stared at my pussy as if it was the most awe-inspiring and beautiful thing he had ever seen. I had spent a lot of time this afternoon grooming it to make sure it was in tiptop condition. And I could tell how wet I was, glistening and slick. All in all? I had to pat myself on the back; I didn't blame him for being enamored with what I had going on between my legs. It wasn’t too shabby, if I did say so myself.
Lying completely bare, exposed in front of the only man that I’d ever had naughty dreams and thoughts about, the only man that I’d pleasured myself thinking about, was almost too much to bear, but so satisfying in its own right. It was the sweetest torture.
Finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips to my inner thigh, kissing his way up from my knee onward, going so slowly it drove me wild with need. Then, when he was within just a few millimeters of where I wanted him to plant those kisses, he raised his head up and started again from the other knee, kissing his way down my opposite inner thigh.
This time when he got close, I begged, "Please, please just kiss me. Lick me. Please."
He looked up and met my eyes, smirking. "I've felt that sweet little pussy, and I will taste it. But you have to be a good girl and wait."
A wave of impatience roared up in me. If I wanted something I asked for it. I worked for it. I made it happen. The fact that I was lying on my bed with my legs spread open and Drew Sheffield’s mouth inches away from my pussy was proof of that. But, he wanted me to do this on his terms. Not to rush to get what I wanted. As much as I wanted to rebel against him, there was a part of me that loved that he was in charge. That he was calling the shots. It made me even wetter knowing that he would only put his mouth on me when he was ready.
My hands fisted in the comforter as I dropped my head back on the mattress and closed my eyes, forcing myself to give over complete control because I had a feeling what was on the other side of my compliance would be pleasure that I’d never known.
“Look at me,” his words were dripping with intensity.
I opened my eyes once again to find his mouth hovering just above my neediest part. I could feel his breath against my intimate, wet flesh and my pussy clenched.
A small smile appeared on his lips before he said, “Good girl.”
With that, he covered my entire mound with his hot, insistent mouth. He moved his tongue up and down my slit, repeating the same path his fingers had traveled earlier and inspiring the same sweet torture. Every time the tip of his tongue moved upward and brushed my clit, I felt so close to coming. I was right on the edge.
Also, aside from the incredible sensations his tongue was sending through my pussy, I loved watching his head move between my legs. So many nights I had lain in this very bed and dreamed about his mouth on me, his head right there, moving in this exact way. Now that I was actually watching it, actually feeling it… It was so much fucking sexier than I had ever managed to conjure up in my fantasies.
His tongue made one final trip up my slit and brushed my clit, and my muscles clenched—the closest I’d come yet to exploding with an orgasm. Right then
, though, he removed his mouth from my mound and started kissing up my belly, pausing when he got to my tits so that he could lick and suck a little on each of my nipples.
As wonderful as that felt, it was nothing compared to what I had just been on the edge of when he was licking my clit. I groaned in frustration. "Why did you stop? I was gonna come. Why didn't you let me come?"
He stopped sucking on my nipples and looked up at me, a devilish grin painted all over his face. "For the same reason I wouldn’t let you with my fingers," he stated firmly. "Because the first time I make you come, baby, it's gonna be with my cock."
I couldn't argue with that logic, so I shut my mouth and decided to just let him run the show entirely. The minute his sweet mouth went back to work on my hard nipple, I knew that was the right decision.
He stood and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He opened it up, took out a condom, and threw the wrapper down on the bed. His wallet was back in his pocket before he started undressing. I lay there and watched him, thinking, oh my God, this is really going to happen. He is really going to be inside me in just a few minutes. I can't believe this is real life!
Even after all the amazing things he had just done to my body with his mouth and his fingers, I found the thought that he was about to fuck me still had the power to make me wetter. When he was completely undressed, he stood for a moment in front of the bed without moving. Now it was my turn to drink him in with my eyes.
He was a perfect specimen — chiseled muscles, six pack abs, and a hard dick that was big enough and thick enough that I did worry a little bit about how it was going to feel as it slid inside of me.
I decided to forgo the anxiousness and just admire it, though. It was, by far, the most magnificent penis I had ever seen, and I was just going to be grateful that I was lucky enough to partake of it.
He reached down and grabbed the condom off of the bed where he tossed it, tore the wrapper with his teeth and then expertly rolled it over his rock-hard erection. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over me. I had the strangest sensation as I slid my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist while he took hold of his cock and put just the head inside of me. It was the feeling of being completely penetrated by him, and not just physically.
When he'd climbed on top of me, my arms opened up to him, as had my legs and my pussy, and I felt like it extended to my soul. Now that he was about to thrust into me, my arms and my legs — and my cunt— were going to squeeze tightly around him, holding him, giving him pleasure, accepting him into me and keeping him there.
After he’d placed the head of his cock a little way into my entrance, he looked up and met my eyes. "Is this what you want?" he asked seriously.
I nodded, breathless. I couldn’t even speak. But if I thought I was speechless then, I was completely unprepared for the way that I was driven entirely out of my mind by the sensation of his thick member thrusting powerfully into my cunt.
I needn't have worried about any pain. It felt tight, like pressure. I definitely felt my walls being stretched out as he moved inside of me. But it didn't hurt at all — it felt amazing.
He drew out of me and then pushed back in, out and then in again, out and then in. Over and over. Slowly at first, but very quickly finding a rhythm and building up speed. Before I knew it, he was thrusting into me again and again, so hard that the only apt description would be "pounding."
God, I'd never felt anything as perfect — as intense and amazing — as Drew Sheffield fucking the shit out of me. I felt like my entire life had been leading up to this moment. Annie had been right. In every way that counted, I had been a virgin until Drew's cock was inside of me. This was the first time that counted, by every conceivable measure.
Drew's strokes grew in fervor and intensity, and I felt my orgasm building up, gaining speed in a way I was completely unprepared for. It was like it was more than just a feeling or a sensation happening inside my belly. It was like an entity apart from me and unto itself.
As soon as I felt Drew start to come, I crested the peak myself. Everything exploded. Sensations swept through every cell of my body that would, I had to believe, surpass any drug high, and they continued for longer than I would've thought possible to sustain. Lights danced in front of my eyes and every muscle in my body felt like it had been turned to flowing lava.
When I finally came back to earth, Drew had rolled over on his back and pulled me with him, that was the best part of all. I snuggled into his chest as he stroked my hair, kissed my forehead, whispered sweet things to me. I don't know if it was the power of the orgasm that stole every bit of energy from my body, or the fact that I had barely slept a wink since I’d been home. Or, maybe the fact that, in Drew's arms, I felt complete peace and safety. But whatever the reason, before I could even say one word, I drifted off to sleep while Drew held me.
10
Dakota
“Okay, bitch. You’ve been moping for days now. I’m over it. Enough. Spill or cheer up. Those are your only two options.”
I had to smile. Madison was the president of my sorority chapter, and she wasn’t one to pull any punches.
“Seriously, Dakota. I get being introspective, but you’re starting to scare me. To scare us. You’ve barely said two words this entire week!”
That comment came from Mariana. She was also in my sorority, but she didn’t even seem like a college kid. She was so wise, and was always thinking about others. In fact, we referred to her as our “house mom” for her habit of constantly taking care of everyone else.
“Thanks for being concerned, guys," I said. Flashing a half-smile at Madison, I added a touch of snark. “Whether that concern was for me or for yourself.”
Madison shrugged, her good-natured smirk matching mine. She wasn’t one to take a little shade personally. “I’m concerned about your wellbeing, too,” she said. “But you’re actively killing my buzz, and I won’t pretend that’s not a problem.”
I grinned fully now. I was walking back from class with Dakota, Mariana, and Annie. We all had morning classes this semester; grabbing a light lunch together and then walking as a group back to our sorority house had become a bit of a tradition. Today, though? I’d have to describe it as more of an intervention.
I wasn’t what you might call eager to dissect the situation with Drew, but I figured that the quickest way to get out of the situation was to simply lay it out for the girls. I knew them well enough to know they weren’t going to drop it. Part of that, of course, was out of concern for me. But most of it was any time you get three or four girls together and they get a whiff of a good story, it was on. They were going to be after this thing like a dog with a bone.
“Well, there’s this guy. He lives next door to me at home—” I began.
“Mr. Bean,” they all chorused. Hmmm. Annie and I were going to have a talk later. That was happening.
“Well, I don’t call him that. But, yes,” I answered, shooting her a dark look. She kept a steadfastly innocent expression on her face. Traitor.
“So, did you hook up last weekend?” Mariana asked, her voice eager and—I thought—a touch envious.
“Yeah. We did.”
“You did?! How was it?” This was from Madison—unsurprising that she would be the one to get straight to the point.
“It was…well, amazing, actually. Earth-shattering. Soul-wrecking. All those great phrases I thought were totally trite up until last weekend.”
“So, you did it. You got soul-fucked. You’re not a virgin anymore,” Annie stated matter-of-factly.
At that, I had to laugh. “The vast majority of people would not have considered me one for a while. But, yes. You’re right. By Annie's Rules Governing the Technical State of Virginity ™, I just lost it last weekend.”
“So, how do you feel now?”
“I’m… not sure.”
Mariana put her hand on my shoulder. When she spoke, her voice was sympathetic. “That's why you’ve been so quiet…so inside
your head. You've been trying to figure out how you feel about him.”
“Oh, no. I'm absolutely certain how I feel about him. It's the whole how he feels about me part of it that I’m a little unclear on.”
“What did he say?” Madison asked.
“Nothing.”
“What could you infer based on his actions?” Annie said.
“Nothing.”
Mariana piped up. “What was the vibe like between you after you did it?”
“Nothing.”
Madison jumped in, taking her turn at the round-robin conversation. “Look, I get that you’re being clever or whatever, but it’s just annoying. What exactly happened?”
“We did it. And it was awesome. And I fell asleep after. When I woke up, he was gone. No note, no nothing. I thought about calling him, but that seemed humiliating. I just couldn’t face it. So I just pulled on sweats, grabbed my purse, and hopped in the car. I didn’t even stop to throw my clothes in a bag. I drove straight back here.”
“And you haven’t heard from him all week?”
“Nope.”
“Not a call, not a text?”
“That would be encompassed within the ‘nope.’”
“Sorry,” Mariana commiserated, and her voice really did sound almost as miserable as I felt.
“Me too,” I agreed.
We followed the tree-lined path that led between the Greek houses in silence the rest of the way. There was no sound except the crunch of the colorful leaves under our feet as we walked. When we turned the last corner and the front of our house came into view, Madison exclaimed, “Holy. Shit. Who is that hot guy sitting on our front steps?”
At the same time, Mariana said, “Oh. My. God.”
And Annie—ever the statistician—said, “A perfect physical specimen. I give him a ten. I wonder who he is.”
Shock silenced me for a beat, but then I smiled and found my voice. “Well, girls,” I said as unbidden tears started to fill my eyes. “Meet Mr. Bean.”