My First Time Ch 02
This is a contribution to the
Survivor Revival Challenge
,
organized by Tara Cox. My first eleven stories were called My Junior Year Abroad. Next up was the little story, "Why I love Wives." This is my fourteenth story in the Survivor Revival Challenge. I hope you like it.
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Sam, Don Juan, Eric, and what about Melissa's brother?
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Nota Bene:
The "first time" in this chapter refers to the first time Melissa gets it on with her old high school boyfriend Eric.
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Sam and I became a couple, and everyone always saw us together. Sam was obsessed with fucking me, and after around ten times at missionary position, we began to try out other positions, such as doggie style, and cowgirl.
Sam kind of loved it when I was on top, bouncing on his cock, and he got to watch my boobs bounce, too. He took lots of pictures with his iPhone, which made me nervous, but back then I was more reckless than nervous.
His roommate, Juan, known behind his back as Don Juan, made an irregular habit of sneaking into the room to watch Sam and me fuck. Somehow, he always managed to do it in such a way that while I saw him spying, usually from the bathroom, Sam never noticed Juan there. It always turned me on when he watched. I knew that was weird, but it was what it was.
Sam also wanted to fuck me outdoors. I think he was kind of hoping we'd be discovered, and someone would see us, me naked and with Sam's cock buried inside me. I stopped that idea cold. We'd fuck, and then we'd rest, and then I'd suck Sam off until he was hard, and we'd fuck again. That meant that, every night we fucked like that, which was almost every single night, I didn't have the time nor the energy to do my schoolwork.
Freshman year was hard. I grew up in a small town in Indiana, and I was competing with students who had gone to prep schools, or to super well-funded public schools in the rich suburbs of cities like Chicago and Cleveland. I had to work extra hard just to be below average. With all this sex, I just didn't have the time or the energy to put in all the schoolwork I needed to do.
It came to a head, and I had to choose: Survive my freshman year academically, or have constant sex with Sam. I chose the former. I explained it all to Sam, and we began to have sex less frequently. We still had sex three and occasionally four times a week, just not every day, you know?
Sam reacted in the way I thought he would. It was unfortunate, because I had come to really like him, and not just as a sexy boy-toy, but as a wonderful man and boyfriend.
Anyway, Sam strayed. Sam strayed big time, and I got pissed. Don Juan of course saw what was happening in real time, and he knew that this was his chance to lay me, if he played his cards right. Don Juan always played his cards right. After all, I was his cute little object of desire.
Don Juan had laid many a girl prettier than me, and many a girl sexier than me. So, what was special about me? What was special was that I was Sam's girl, and Don Juan loved, absolutely loved, seducing other guys' girls. Maybe he thought I was also pretty and sexy? I'd like to hope he did. We had gotten to know each other of course, since I was the girl of his roommate, and maybe he also liked me? You know, it sounds corny, but maybe he actually liked me as a person, and not just another potential conquest? I knew I liked him. The main factor, though, was that I was Sam's girl; that's what made him want me.
Sam was straying, and I knew it. Sam had been seduced by this pretty little slut, a girl by the name of Christine. She had long blonde hair, and absolutely huge boobs. Sam had always liked my boobs, but they were B cup boobs, maybe C cups on a good day. I couldn't compete with Christine, the bimbo slut, and dammit all, I knew it. Don Juan knew it, too.
He picked his time well. I had gotten tipsy having drinks with my best friend Mary, who was giving me sympathy about the fact that Sam and Christine were destined to get it on, that very night. I went back to my room, and I was sexiled again, as my roommate was fucking her own boyfriend silly. I could hear her moans right through the door. I sat down on the cold floor outside my own dorm room, and whimpered into my wine cooler. How pathetic is that? That was the moment for Don Juan to strike, and he did.
He saw me there, instantly figured out what was happening, and sat down on the floor next to me. He brushed away my tears, and in a quiet and loving tone, told me -- convincingly -- how wonderful I was. He explained to me that this always happened to first blush Freshman romances. He held me, he stroked my hair and he comforted me. He convinced me we should move from the cold floor, and he led me to his room, which was of course Sam's room in fact (since they were roommates), and he put a tie on the door. Now Sam himself was sexiled!
Good! That way my son-of-a-bitch boyfriend would be sexiled and not be able to lay that tramp Christine in his bed, the same bed in which he was laying yours truly! I was perversely thrilled. Of course, Sam and Christine, seeing the tie, would simply go to Christine's room to have sex, and in fact, I gained very little; but Don Juan nevertheless was making me feel better, and reviving my self-respect.
At one point, as we sat on Juan's small, twin bed, he brushed away my tears, our heads were close together, and we kissed. It just seemed the natural thing to do. My big weakness is kissing. I quite simply love kissing, and if a guy kisses well, it seems to be a way to my heart. It also seems to be, in the final analysis, a direct route to my panties, if you know what I mean.
Juan and I sat on his bed kissing for the longest time, and when we broke for air, two things were readily apparent: Juan was hard (and large, too!), and I was wet in the area men like a girl to be wet. Juan looked at me, his eyes gently searching mine, probing for something. He found it (I have a rather transparent face), and he proceeded to undress me. He began with my T shirt, and I even lifted my arms to help.
Seeing my cooperation, Don Juan next expertly removed my bra. I say expertly, because I was wearing one of my more complicated bras. It was complicated but it really made my boobs pop. A lot of good that did, too, since Sam was off pursuing the sexual delights of Christine-the-trollop.
My yoga pants were next, and sure enough, still while kissing me, he seemed to effortlessly roll them down. At one point, it was decision time: My hips on the bed were a clear obstacle, and it would have been simple to stop the progression of clothing leaving my body fairly easily at that point. What did I do? When Juan asked me to raise my hips, up in the air they came, and off went my yoga pants. Somehow, Juan -- clever molester that he is -- took my panties off together with the yoga pants. Yep, I was now naked.
Juan announced it was picture time. I replied no, thank you. He said he wanted one just of my back, like an Ingres painting or something. Luckily, I had just studied Ingres in my art history class, so I knew what he was talking about. I lay on my side and Juan got his camera to photograph my naked backside. He snapped a couple and then there was a knock on the door. The voice behind the knock indicated it was an agitated, impatient Sam.
"Let's have some fun. I'll bet Sam won't be able to tell that it's you, from only your naked backside. Cover your head with this pillow. He'll see your back, ass, and legs, and he'll salivate at the unknown naked beauty in my bed, and then I'll yell at him for interrupting my seduction," Juan said.
"What if he realizes it's me?" I asked, quite reasonably, I thought.
"He won't," Juan said.
