I don't love him. Let's make that crystal clear right now.
I don't know if I like him, but whenever I'm chilling after classes are over, he'll come to my dorm room unexpectedly, bother me with his silly dance moves or his little stories about all the girls he hits on, and my heart will just hammer out of nowhere...
Ugh...he thinks he's such a playboy. To be honest, I don't think he's all that good looking...and yet I'm still attracted to him. Why? I don't know. Maybe you can tell me. He loves to say '
fuck
' in just about all of his sentences, he's irritating, annoying, cocky, brash, and does not know when to shut up. He can get me so frustrated that I've already hit him more than any other guy I've ever known in my life!
And yet, there are these moments when he's just standing, looking at me. Not with passion or anything like that, but the suppleness of his large lips, his big body and those strong arms...how his large hand feels in mine when we do our own special handshake...and my god his hair! Sometimes I just want to dig into those locks and pull his lips down to mine in a rough, passionate kiss.
But, no. I wouldn't do that. He thinks I'm small, he knows I don't drink or party, he would never see me in that light. I'm this innocent little girl who has had only one boyfriend and has only had passionate, world-changing, indescribable sex in my mind. No, he wouldn't dare to touch me. I'm too fragile, too perfect for him.
"Do you wanna go out on a date with me?"
...Oh, wait. I bet you're thinking that I just wishfully thought that in my head. Well too bad, you're wrong. He actually asked me out, but I said no because for one my only relationship I ever had left me beyond scarred, and also because I thought he was joking. When he said he was serious and asked me again, I still said no.
Why? Because I don't look like the girls he normally dates. I don't have large or even average-sized boobs. If they didn't stick out I would even say I'm flat chested. My legs and ass, on the other hand, actually look the way they're supposed to on a woman. I could ride any man I wanted like a pro, even though I've never had sex, and make his eyes roll back into his head. I have the equipment; I just need the experience.
Dammit. I'm tired of feeling like I have to be so innocent and sweet all of the time. All my life I've always considered having sex outside of marriage. You want to know why? Because what happens when you find somebody you love, marry them, and when you two finally hop into bed together, there aren't any sparks or mind-blowing orgasms? That sounds horrible to me, and now that I'm in college, I feel like I've waited long enough to try this sex thing out for myself.
Oh no. I'm doing it again. I'm thinking about him and I'm getting wet down there. If I close my eyes and move my hips just right...I bet I can almost feel his large, hard dick moving deep inside me. We're on the wall, he has me mounted on him and he just presses deeper into my tight and virginal pussy, taking me to new heights. And my legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to me as he pumps harder and faster into me. My hands are locked tightly within his loose locks, and oh my gosh his heat feels so good! It's like I'm on fire! I want to scream his name out, but no! I want him to get so lost into the heat like I am that he screams my name out in ecstasy! He's sucking on my nipples and I'm grabbing his tight, firm ass, just squeezing and slapping those cheeks...so close, so close...say my name...oh say my name! "Oh, fuck! De-"
What the hell am I doing? How can you just let me carry on like that? I was torturing myself and you just let me relish in my sweet agony. Pervert.
But...why should I have to torture myself? I don't love him, I think I like him, and I know for sure that I want him. I think it's time that I loosened my reins and show that playboy just how naughty I can get...
**1 a.m. the following morning**
His roommates are gone. It's the weekend, so they're off partying and getting drunk with the rest of the guys on my floor. Typical college dudes. My man, on the other hand, is sort of religious, so he doesn't do that type of stuff. I know for sure that he and I will be alone tonight.
Wait a second...my man? When did he become my man?
He's not mine now...but after tonight, something of his will be.
With his hallway eerily quiet and all the doors closed, I quickly made my way down to the end of the hall. Knowing the policy of his room, their door always has a crack in it if someone goes out partying.
Taking a deep breath, I step into the silent darkness.
Quickly and quietly getting one of their chairs in the center of the room, I began to set up. Once everything was in place, I slowly approached his bed. I could barely see anything, but the light from the door I left open gave me enough light to see his sleeping figure. I softly called out his name and nudged him. Limp as a rock, light snoring my only response. I chuckled to myself. He's so trusting of me.
Oh...I need to explain, don't I? Well basically, I tend to hang out in his room when my roommate is not in our room or her boyfriend drops by for a visit. That's how I knew his roommates were going out to party. As they got ready to go, I slipped out and grabbed a sleeping pill. When I got back to his room, they had already left for the party. Getting ready for bed, he asked me to fix him some orange juice. Seeing my chance, I crushed the sleeping pill in my hand and threw it in the cup, right before I poured the orange juice in. I know, I know. I drugged him and I'm a horrible person. But I needed him knocked out so that I'll be able to do what I'm about to do. Alright? So let's get back to it...