Our Sort-of First Date

I started off my junior year with a pretty new boyfriend.

I had known Kyle since freshman year. He and I and several other people from our old dorm had been friends all through school. We had always had a certain feeling that we might be good together, but we never quite found that perfect moment to try it out.

We were finally both single at the same time that summer. We happened to live in the same state, but his family's place was about an hour and a half from my dad's, so we could only see each other here and there. There was a movie here, a trip to the beach there, an invitation to a family barbecue where I actually met his grandparents. We really didn't have any time to get very physical, but pretty soon the new semester started, and we got to make up for lost time.

Kyle's a really sweet guy, and he's awfully cute. He was really tender when we finally got some alone time in my dorm room. There was a lot of buildup, after all. I liked the way he felt inside me, and we seemed like a nice match. If I had ANY complaint... and bear in mind, I really did like him... he was maybe just a little bit TOO gentle. It was very slow and sweet. I imagined that, as we got more comfortable, we'd start to test each other's boundaries.

Meanwhile, classes were starting again. Junior year is a big one, and I have a LOT of classes. I actually LOVE school, so I was really excited to begin.

Then I got to my first class, and I saw Mark.

I need to make sure I say this... I DON'T get crazy, heart-stopping lust-crushes on people. I see handsome guys and hot girls, and I think, oh, that's nice, look how hot they are, and then I go on with my day. I don't get stopped in my tracks and forget to breathe and have my knees start shaking because I'm so turned on.

Not until that morning, anyway.

Mark is a pretty tall guy, about six foot four, which makes him a full foot taller than me. He's athletic, with a sort of broad arc to him that tapers from his pleasantly broad shoulders down to narrow hips... and somehow the way he stood talking to some other students made the thrust of his hipbones really evident. Everything about his body was making me shiver... but then he smiled at something someone said, and I had to sit down.

It was a small class, and we sat close enough that I was soon pulled into his little chatting circle. He was INCREDIBLY funny, but in a totally inclusive way; he bolstered OTHER people's jokes, brought people in to laugh with him. That smile of his was just nonstop, and every time he smiled at you, it was YOURS...

I usually go to breakfast after my first class, but I had to run back to my dorm to change. I was drenched. I had no idea what was going on, this was completely uncharted territory for me. I don't think I can remember ever being so struck just from meeting someone. We had gotten along really well, and had exchanged numbers, and I definitely knew I would be hanging out with him. What I didn't know was how I was going to contain myself around him.

That's right, I wasn't going for it. Why wasn't I going for it? Because I had a boyfriend. Remember him? Kyle? Yea... I had kind of forgotten too. I WASN'T going to do anything, because I'm not a person that does that. Kyle and I were good, we had waited a long time to be together, and I wasn't going to blow it just because some absolutely amazing looking, charming, hilarious, really really sexy guy...

I'm sorry... lost my train of thought...

Anyway. Kyle and I kept finding time to be together. It was fun, and he continued to be a sweetie. He didn't like Indian food, which is one of my absolute favorites, and he thought the Muppets were kind of lame, which sort of shocked me, because I absolutely adore them, and it just seemed so weird that I didn't already know that about him. Our sex life got interesting. We had anal sex for the first time. The VERY first time for him. He handled it about as well as you could expect; he was really careful with me, fearful of really lacing into me... to be honest, he really hadn't grown out of that early, tender lovemaking. I told myself the more intense stuff would come.

Meanwhile, I spent a few Friday evenings going out to the bar with Mark. We would set up at the bar, and make each other laugh all night. I was getting better at not completely losing my shit at the sight of him. We could spend the whole evening enjoying each other's company, and I was more or less fine. Still, he would help me up into the barstool, or touch my hand while we talked, or stretch himself out over the bar to steal me a cherry from the bar fruit. I was lucky I was sitting down. I'm pretty sure I managed to just have a good time and not stare at him like a lovesick puppy...

Not that it was a date, or anything. I had a boyfriend.

Speaking of whom, my roommate mentioned to me that Kyle had been texting her a lot. We had all hung out together a few times, watching movies and the like, and she has a tendency to lean on people when she sits on our sofa. She's fallen asleep with her head on my lap a dozen times. Apparently, he had it in his head that her leaning on him had meant something, even though I had been right there. It was a simple misunderstanding. So why didn't he say anything to ME about it? I asked him, and he said it was nothing. But he was STILL texting her. Even after I TOLD him she had shown me his texts.

Mark just laughed it off when I told him about it. It was like the world didn't touch him. It wasn't that he was arrogant, or aloof, but rather that he was just so unflappably positive, he rose above it all. He saw the good in EVERYTHING, even Kyle's sneakiness. Maybe he was planning something for me. Maybe he's dealing with something he didn't want me to have to worry about. He wasn't dismissing my problem; he listened with his entire body. I could tell him anything. It was getting easier and easier to be around him and not have my body completely betray me. It was only when he was showing me how to play pool, and I felt the length of his body slide up behind me, that I actually mini-fainted against the table with arousal.

I confronted Kyle about his texting my roommate. He just didn't seem to understand what my problem was. He wasn't doing anything, he insisted, he was just talking. It just didn't seem to matter that I was uncomfortable with it, or that my roommate didn't like it. We both realized that we just weren't getting along. We had been much better friends, and if we kept going like this, we stood to lose that. I didn't say anything about the fact that he still hadn't figured out that I wasn't a porcelain doll in bed. That he was actually allowed to... you know. I didn't say anything about that. We just decided together that the best thing was for us to call it quits.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Great! Now you're single, and you can go after Mark, the one you SHOULD have gone after in the first place! The thought crossed my mind, too, but that weekend, I went to watch Mark's band play (of course he's in a band. Of course). He was SO gorgeous up there, and he looked down and smiled at me...

I'd be lying if I said I didn't melt, but something was different. I knew him now. He was becoming a dear friend. Even though I had never admitted to myself that I was cheating on Kyle when I went out with Mark, there was always that naughty feeling that I wasn't supposed to be doing this. With Kyle gone, that feeling was gone too.

Plus, suddenly, I was confronted with the idea of Mark as a boyfriend, not just an object of my weirdly out-of-my-control lust. It was an entirely different way of looking at him, and I just don't know if seeing him this whole new way was happening. Certainly not while he was onstage.

So. A close, platonic, spasm-inducingly hot friend he remained.

Halloween approached, and I had my costume ready to go. I had a friend make me a blue Star Trek uniform, from the original series. She kept insisting that I pick between characters, but I really don't know the show that well, I just thought the one she made for herself was really sexy. I asked her to make it blue to match these great knee-high boots I had and could never wear with anything. I looked really good in it, if I do say so myself, without the normal Halloween sluts-on-parade vibe. It hugged my middle, the skirt was short and swooshy, and it showed a small amount of cleavage over the low-cut black collar, but it was all very tasteful. Well, relatively tasteful. Stop judging me.

I knew which party I wanted to go to, and I had my weekend set, but I didn't have a date. I don't know where the notion came from that I NEEDED a date, but come it did. Maybe I was looking at myself in that costume feeling sorry for myself that I didn't have anyone to be sexy FOR. Maybe all those months of kind of meh sex followed by a rather disturbingly long dry spell just sort of got to me.

The one person on campus I thought of was Mark. I might have rewritten him as a platonic friend, but still, he had that effect on me. I called him, and he was eager to be my date. It had all the trappings of a fun time, just two pals hanging out and having fun...

Except it wasn't that at all. It felt heavy in my mind when I thought about it. It felt dark and unwieldy, like a thought other thoughts had to move around if they wanted to get anywhere. I was going on a date with Mark. The words seemed to roll out of my mouth like silk honey. I was sure nothing was going to happen. Still, I made sure I made a trip to the spalon and took care of things. Not for Mark, I insisted to myself. I just wanted to feel good for the weekend.

He picked me up at my Dorm. It's co-ed, but visitors aren't allowed to just come up, the RA working the front desk has to call you, and you have to come down. I had been ready and anxious for almost a half-hour before my phone rang, and I tried not to run downstairs.

He had dressed up like Marty Mcfly. It was the sort of costume you put together when you didn't actually have a plan; all clothes he probably already had. Aviator sunglasses sitting on top of that sexy disheveled auburn hair, rolled up sleeves of a denim jacket over an unbuttoned white dress shirt, jeans, Converse, and that red sleeveless jacket. His had a hood, but still, the costume was obvious, and just so goddamn sexy. I felt my bottom lip quiver when I tried to smile to mask my sudden loss of breath.

His eyes did that thing where he trailed down my body, then back up again. Not that covert, furtive look guys do when they're trying to hide it. He was checking me out in my costume, and he didn't seem to think it was a problem if he did. I felt my skin flush. I KNOW I looked good, I had just been staring at myself in the mirror upstairs. But now... now HE was looking at me.

I wish I could tell you what we talked about, but it's just a blur. I know he had me grinning ear to ear right away, the way he always did, and that smile of his was melting me from the inside out just like usual... but the way he was looking at me was completely new. He had nice green eyes, I had known that for a while, but he had never looked at me like this before. I would remember, because every time we caught each other's gaze, I felt like I was going to pass out. He looked hungry. He was as fantastically charming as ever... but suddenly when he touched my hand or put his hand on my back to lead me into the party, there was fire in his skin. It crackled from the point of contact right down my spine and between my legs...

We got some drinks, and talked, but none of it seemed to matter. I was just falling into his eyes. I felt more and more of those little contact moments, and finding an excuse to touch before we touched mattered less and less.

Soon, we were dancing. I don't know if I moved to kiss him, or he to kiss me, but it happened. His mouth was so SOFT. He moved into me, that long, tapered body pulling me against it, but his mouth just turned me to butter. After the song ended, we found our way to a corner of the party. There was a patio outside, where a few people were sitting around smoking, but for the most part, it was empty. We both moved to sit down together, but at the last second, he turned me, and I was in his lap. I felt my body want to react, but before it could, he had leaned up and kissed me again.

I wanted more. More of this, more of him. I reached my arms around his neck and opened my mouth to him. His tongue found mine so cleanly, so simply, and my body went limp against him. He held me, and kissed me, and I tried to breathe through the fireworks going off in my brain. I don't know how long we made out on that patio, don't know what happened to those people that had been out there. The zombie apocalypse could have started, and I wouldn't have noticed. Feeling his arms around me and that body and that less and less subtle hardness under me...

I didn't know what I wanted, but I knew this wasn't enough. I couldn't kiss him enough, couldn't feel him enough. I broke from him for a moment, way too fast. I could feel the wetness on my lips when I looked at him, feeling flushed and almost panicked with arousal, and managed to pant out a single sentence.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

'get out of here'... that could mean so many things. I had no idea what I was going to do, or where we would go. I just knew this wasn't even close to all I wanted. He nodded and, god love him, he smiled. I don't know how I managed to keep my feet under me as we stood.

He took me across the street. We had parked in the small gravel and grass lot behind another townhouse. This one was completely dark, all the students that lived there had gone over to the party. The walk across the street was only a few moments, but it gave me some time to try to figure out what I was doing. I had to get a handle on myself, this was crazy. I wanted to keep making out with Mark, I knew that, but where were we going? What did he think was going to happen?

He stopped at his car to unlock it. His hand slipped from mine, and the loss was intense. For the first time since the dance floor, he wasn't touching me. It was awful. I needed him back. I grabbed him by his Marty Mcfly jacket and pulled him to me, kissing him again. His hands went around my waist, lifting me into him. I was too short, so I lifted a leg, running the inside of my knee against his pants...

The hand that was on my waist moved down to my leg. Those firm warm fingertips crept up my naked skin, sliding so simply up under my thigh, up under my costume's swooshy skirt, the very tips of his fingers just moments from the silk of my underwear.

It wasn't a huge gesture, the feeling of his hands along my naked skin, but the impact was huge. All those months of rethinking him, turning him in my head into a close platonic friend, all that time I spent getting used to the effect he had on me; all the lust I had for him in that very first moment I saw him came rushing back at me all at once. The full weight of the realization hit me; I was going to fuck him tonight.

I had a flash of awareness that this was technically our first date, and I never do this, but I managed to excuse myself by flimsily clinging to the idea that we'd been out before, despite the fact that I'd spent months telling myself those weren't dates. I was too lost to care. I wanted him too badly to stop.

I broke away from his mouth, and pulled him further into the shadow of the building, hidden from the street up by the hood of his car, and started to open his belt as I went down to my knees. I remember the look in his eyes so vividly as I looked up at him, biting my bottom lip, working his pants open. His smile wasn't overeager, or nervous; he wasn't even glancing at the party across the street. He just held my gaze, those green eyes and that gentle smile refusing to let me calm down...

My hand found him as I moved his boxers down, and I felt my stomach butterflies flutter as my fingers wrapped around him. I glanced down, and inhaled. I'm not a size person; I could care less how big a guy is. As it happened, he was more than decent, any bigger and we would have had problems, but as I moved my hand over him, leaning forward to slide my tongue over his tip, I couldn't help but squeal inwardly. I LOVED the shape of him. His head tapered out quickly, getting very thick, but then he slowly tapered inward again along his length, so his root was subtly but notably narrower. I moved my mouth down over him, feeling my lips stretch over his thickness, but then found it easier once he was in the back of my throat. It was like he encouraged you to keep him deep inside you, I thought. This was going to be so fantastic.

Suddenly, in that moment, I felt his hand slide around the back of my head. I looked up at him, feeling him start to work deeper into my mouth. I moaned softly; I hadn't expected that. Not after so many months of timid sex. Mark wasn't stroking my hair and watching, he was PUSHING. He wasn't being aggressive, and his eyes were still looking at me with that sweet sexiness, but there was no mistaking what he was doing. I inhaled hard through my nose, and closed my eyes, taking a big swallow as I leaned into his relentless pressure. I had him in my throat, and he was far from done, I could feel him. He was going to fuck me.

He moaned something above me, something guttural about how badly he wanted me. I needed to back up to breathe, and as I pulled back and worked him with my hand a moment, a small stream of saliva running from his tip to my lips, I looked up at him with a raised brow, giving him this sort of coy 'oh, you do, do you?' look...

I'm not sure how I thought he would react, but I'm not even sure if he saw me. He reached down, his hand going under my arm, and lifted me to my feet, moving me forward. He took a single step around me as my hands went up to brace myself on the hood of his car, and suddenly he was behind me. My head was absolutely reeling. I felt his hands on me, the weight and heat of him. Then my skirt was moving, and there was the feeling of his hand on my ass. My panties were being pulled aside.

I couldn't think. My knees were going numb. His body was right behind me. I felt the powerful firmness of his cock nuzzling into the slick heat between my legs, and the pressure...

He was inside me. His hands were on my hips, his cock filling me. I lost it almost immediately. He started to work inside me, but I was cumming already. I've never cum so fast in my life, but it'd been building in me since our first class together, and my hands went limp as I fell against the hood, relying on his hands to hold me against him, biting my lip to keep from screaming at the sensation of having him take me like this.

It took a moment for my brain to catch up. The insanity of it had caught me so completely off guard, and the intensity of my sudden orgasm made it hard to think, but as I came down, I managed to collect enough of my senses to realize that, as hot as this is, it wasn't what I wanted. I reached over my shoulder and back, found his head, and pulled it forward to kiss him, turning my shoulders and slipping from him to pull my whole body into his.

I broke the kiss, told him to get in the car, and gave him a small but firm slap across face before I turned and started toward the passenger seat. I felt like my entire body was on fire, and I wanted him back inside me so badly I could feel my cunt throbbing with the need for him, but we had to go somewhere. This was insane.

He got into the car and got it started, but I couldn't wait to touch him. I had his pants open again before he fully pulled away from the party, had my seatbelt off before he had gotten down the road, and was leaning over him to pull out his cock and suck it in less than a minute. He drove for a bit, but I have no idea where we were going, I was so intent on working his cock with my mouth, remembering how it had felt when he had shoved it so suddenly into me.