I was at a party a few months into my sophomore year. As usual, I was standing in a corner, occasionally talking to some of my girlfriends. I had been nursing a rum and coke for over an hour, not exactly being a big drinker. As is my habit, I scanned the room looking for hot guys. And when I'd see a guy who I thought looked good, I'd imagine him locking eyes with me, smiling, and coming over to talk to me. Then he'd tell me how hot I am, take my hand, and lead me to a bedroom. Once the door was closed, he'd softly kiss me. Then he'd slip his tongue in my mouth as his hand moved up to my breast. He'd give a gentle squeeze, then a more forceful squeeze. My moaning would encourage him. Next, he'd put his hand under my t-shirt, squeezing my breast through my bra and then squeezing my nipple. I'd hold my arms straight in the air as I said, "take it off."
He'd pull off my shirt and then quickly remove my bra. He'd compliment my C-cup tits - perhaps my best feature - before putting one hand on my breast as he moved his mouth to mine for a more passionate kiss. When he moved his mouth to my nipple, I'd groan. My panties would be soaking, and I could only think of one thing.
"Fuck me," I'd say.
I could picture him smiling as he ripped off the rest of my clothes, followed by his own. His dick would be the perfect size - not too big and not too small. As I crawled on the bed and spread my legs, he'd get on top and gently slide his dick all the way in. He'd slowly pump in and out until I told him to speed up. He'd continue until I started my giant orgasm, and then he'd fill my pussy with hot cum. He'd tell me I was the best fuck he ever had, and then we'd cuddle for a while before heading back to the party.
Of course, in reality, we all know that after he fucked me, instead of cuddling, he'd be more likely to say, "Thanks. But I gotta get back downstairs. There are lots of other girls to fuck. Don't take too long getting dressed."
I actually let out a short chuckle, as if this scenario would ever happen. First, hot guys don't choose me when there are lots of women around. I'm not Wicked Witch of the West ugly, but I'm also not runway model beautiful. Second, I don't hook up. I mean, I like sex. Actually, I love sex. But I'm not a casual hook-up kind of girl. But these little fantasies are great when I'm alone in bed and the only one responsible for my orgasm.
After laughing at myself, I turned slightly to the left and looked across the room. A guy - a hot guy - was staring at me and smiling. Was he amused that I was laughing when no one else was talking to me? I looked away for a couple of seconds, but when I turned back, he was walking in my direction. Was he really walking up to me? I assumed not - he was way out of my league. But with his eyes locked on mine as he got closer and closer, heat flashed through my body.
"Hi, I'm Brandon," he said.
My mouth was dry, but I managed to reply.
"Hi. I'm Erica."
"Nice to meet you, Erica. So, I could use a good laugh. You wanna tell me what you were laughing about?"
I turned red.
"Uh, nothing special. Just thinking about something a friend told me earlier."
"Oh, I get it," he said. "You're gonna make me wait until you know me better before sharing your deep secrets, huh?"
I laughed, nervously.
"What makes you think I have secrets?" I said in my flirtiest tone.
"Everybody has secrets. Secret thoughts about people. Secret thoughts about family." Then he put his hand on my shoulder and leaned down, putting his mouth right next to my ear as he softly said, "Secret desires."
FUCK! My entire body tingled. He stood up and smiled.
"Could you use another drink?" he asked.
"Oh, I see. You think if you get me drunk, you'll find out all my secrets?"
He chuckled.
"No, just trying to see if you need anything. My mother taught me to be nice to girls and to make sure you give them what they want or need."
SHIT! If he keeps talking, I'm going to break my no hook-up rule.
"Thanks, I'm good. But feel free to get another if you want."
"Nah, I'm good, too. Plus, I don't want to leave you alone. You might run away."
We both smiled and started talking about the usual stuff when you meet someone at college - major, music, family.
After a while, he asked, "You wanna go for a walk?"
OMG. Is he going to take me to his room? He's really hot, but I'm not ready for that, I thought. Before I could reply, he continued.
"It's a nice night out. Have you been to the new Ice Cream place that opened on State Street?"
For half a second, I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. No, definitely relieved.
"No, I haven't. But sounds good. Let me tell my friends I'm leaving."
I found one of my girlfriends and told her I was leaving. When I pointed to the Brandon, her eyes got big.
"Oh my god, Erica, he's gorgeous. Go fuck him before he gets away," she said laughing.
We walked across campus, talking easily. After getting ice cream cones, we continued walking through the quad. I never felt so comfortable on a "first date". Eventually, I told him I had to get up early the next day, so I should head home.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked.
"Yes. Thanks. I'd like that."
As we were walking, I held his hand, interlacing my fingers. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze as he smiled. As we got to my apartment, I said, "This is it."
We stopped and turned toward each other.
"Thanks for a nice evening... and the yummy ice cream."
I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a short, friendly kiss on the lips.
"Can I get your number?" he asked.
I smiled as I said, "Of course." I took his phone, entered my number, and then texted myself so I had his number.
"Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night?" he asked. I smiled as I nodded. I wrapped my hands around his head and pulled him down for a much deeper, open mouth kiss. Brandon wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me against him. After a minute, we broke the kiss, I said good night, and I walked into my apartment.
And thus began my love affair with Brandon Winters.
We spent a lot of time together over the next few weeks. We made out a lot and got handsy, but I waited longer than usual before sleeping with him. I wanted to sleep with him - I liked him a lot, and he was gorgeous - but, for some reason, I was afraid once we had sex, he'd have another notch in his belt and move on. The truth is, I couldn't believe this gorgeous guy, who could have any girl he wanted, was so interested in me.
One night, we were at my apartment, making out on the couch. He had his hand under my shirt on my bra, as he had many times before, gently caressing my tits. I broke the kiss and grabbed his arm.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"This isn't good," I said.
He pulled his hand out of my shirt.
"I'm sorry," he said.
I smiled at him.
