Mike had been my boyfriend for about six months and ever since I turned eighteen he'd been subtly pressuring me to have sex with him. Up until this point I'd been holding him off, even though it was getting harder all the time. Not because he was getting more importunate but because I was getting a strong itch to actually do it.
This evening I'd finally decided that tonight's the night. My parents were out and Mike and I were making out hot and heavy on the couch. It wasn't all that long before my blouse was gaping wide, my bra unfastened, and pushed up out of the way. After a bit of dedicated attention to my breasts wandering hands thoughtfully removed my panties.
My own hands hadn't been exactly staying still. Mike's trousers were undone and a certain famed trouser snake had reared its head, currently held in captivity by my grasping paws.
Mike eased me back until I was flat on my back, one leg on the couch and the other pushed to the side, my foot on the floor. Mike eased my lips apart and eased the head of his cock between them, talking in a coaxing manner the whole while, not that I was trying to protest.
From that careful start, the tip of his cock barely engaging with me, Mike made his big move. He pushed gently into me and nothing happened. I could feel a slight pressure inside and guessed that his cock had just butted up against my hymen. I saw a slight frown cross Mike's face and then he pressed more firmly. Apart from feeling a slightly increased pressure, nothing happened. My cherry remained unpopped and Mike looked somewhat irritated.
If at first you don't succeed, try, try, again. Mike did so, but my hymen was adamant. It was pulling a Gandalf, saying 'you shall not pass'. Mike was not deterred. He figuratively gathered up his loins and drove in as hard as he could.
This time he was successful. My hymen broke in a very painful manner. I screamed. I mean, it really hurt. Mike actually gave his own yell as I think he nearly broke his cock when he rammed it in. He jumped to his feet at the sound of my scream, looking horrified. I was bleeding somewhat more than I expected and congratulated myself on my forethought for putting a rug on the couch. A rug I could wash -- the couch not so easily.
To my surprise when Mike say how I was bleeding his face went white, his eyes rolled up, and he fainted. Worse than fainted as he took a half-step, tangled his feet in his trousers, and went flat on his face. It was also unfortunate that he was just the right height so when he toppled forward his face bounced off the couch's wooden arm before he landed on the carpet.
I grabbed for my purse and extracted a tampon which I put to good use. With the bleeding controlled I put on my panties and turned to see how Mike was. Out cold and with a gash at the top of his nose where he'd hit the couch. It might have been my imagination but I thought the skin around that general area was looking a little puffy. Perhaps a cold compress might be in order.
I nipped into the bathroom and soaked a facecloth in cold water. I returned and lightly pressed it against Mike's face and it turned out that was enough to bring him round. He jumped to his feet, knocking me onto my ass, hitched up his trousers, and bolted. Not a word about what had happened. He was gone.
I was stunned. What the hell? Still, I was happy not to have to go through with the sex right then and there because I was feeling somewhat, ah, tender, down there. I tidied up my own clothing, took the blood-stained blanket off the couch and into the washing machine, and then went and sat and contemplated what had happened.
My first experience with sex could be described as not quite the success I'd hoped for. On the plus side it shouldn't hurt the next time because my cherry was well and truly popped. On the negative side I guess you could now say I was a quasi-virgin. Sure, Mike's cock had popped my cherry so I wasn't a hundred percent virgin, but that's as far it got, so neither was I a hundred percent screwed. I was half and half -- a quasi-virgin.
I wasn't going to let that bother me. I was quite sure that Mike would take care of that little problem in the next day or so.
Unfortunately I hadn't made allowances for what an asshole Mike turned out to be. I waited most of the next day for Mike to call but he didn't. Eventually I called him, only to have him not answer and not reply to my message. I finished up calling his mother to see if he was alright.
She sounded hostile, demanding to know what had happened.
"There was an accident," I told her. "Mike tripped while standing next to the couch and bounced his face off the arm of the couch. I think he actually passed out for a few moments. I was trying to apply a cold compress to where he hit his face when he jumped to his feet and left. Is he all right?"
"Oh, I see. He's all right if you can call two black eyes all right. He looks like a raccoon and he's not happy. Um, I don't think he'll be leaving the house until the bruising goes down a little."
"Oh. I understand. Please tell him I called and that I'm waiting for him to call me."
"I'll do that, dear. He'll get over it. Accidents do happen."
With that I sat back and waited for Mike to call. He didn't. No calls, no messages, and my calls and messages were ignored. After a week I decided to label him an asshole and got on with my life. The deciding point was when I saw him down the street. He spotted me and turned and ran in the other direction. Really? What did he think I was going to do? Did he expect me to complain about our misadventure and blame him or something? I mean, we were both willing participants.
Anyway, with Mike now categorised as an ex and an asshole I was now free to start looking for my next boyfriend. Hopefully someone who would continue with and finish what Mike had started. Not that I was going to rush to have that happen, but it was something for me to keep in mind.
Things changed at work the next week. A couple of the old-timers were retiring soon and the boss had hired a couple of newbies. In a lumber yard you had to be fit and strong and both the new hires were. I met them when they came in on their first day, helping them fill out all the paper-work that was required. That was part of my job as administrative assistant.
The two men turned out to be completely different types. They were both big men but there the resemblance ended. Bob was a smiler, always cheerful, and handsome as all get out. He knew it, too, turning on the charm as soon as he met me. My first though was that this was my lucky day. If you saw him in a movie or as a model you wouldn't be able to help falling for him.
The trouble was that after talking to him for a few minutes my opinion had gone from wow to ugh. Imagine a beautiful white rose. You can't help but bend over to capture the scent. Then you find that there's this hideous black spider nestled in the heart of the rose. That was my reaction to Bob. Some sort of self-defence mechanism was telling me to stay well clear of him. Not a problem as the yard-staff rarely had occasion to visit the admin office.
Roger, on the other hand, while just as big and studly as Bob, had been beaten hard with an ugly stick. He tended to keep answers short and to the point, giving maximum information with minimum words. Not what you would call the friendliest man in the yard. Still, I didn't get any negative vibes off him which put him higher in the rankings that Bob.
Over the next few days whenever I passed either of them Bob would be smarmily flattering while Roger would just nod and grunt an acknowledgement. I found I appreciated Roger's brief nod far more than Bob's overblown flattery. After the second day I was avoiding Bob as much as possible.
On Friday my immediate manager takes the afternoon off, shooting through as soon as it's lunchtime. He makes up for this by coming in for a half day on the Saturday. This means that on Fridays I have the office to myself. I don't mind this. It beats me having Friday afternoon off and having to work Saturdays.
I had my lunch at my desk. I figured that if I had a short lunch I could buckle down and get everything outstanding completed and be able to leave early. I'd just finished eating when the door of the office opened and Bob came strolling in.
"Bob," I said, acknowledging his presence. "Can I help you?"
Not that I had a choice. That's what administrative assistants do -- help the rest of the staff.
"Ah, Chloe, you look as pretty as a picture," Bob said, smugness oozing from him. "I can't believe how lucky I am having someone like you here."
"Ah, thanks," I said cautiously, carefully noting that he'd closed the door and that I was alone with him. Not a state that I desired.
"I've noticed how you look at me, and I'm flattered. I don't have a girlfriend, in case you were wondering, so you don't need to worry about that."
What was he on about? The only time I looked at him was when I noted where he was and went elsewhere.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, no need to hide it. You're infatuated with me. It often happens and I don't mind it. I am good looking and am considered to be quite a catch. It looks like you might be the lucky one."
Did I mention that among his other attributes Bob had a keen, incisive, intelligence? No? Not surprising as he doesn't. He'd need to study to become an idiot. I suspect that this particular shortcoming contributed to his arrogance and overweening self-importance.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Bob," I said with a pleasant smile, "but I don't have any sort of feelings towards you. As far as I'm concerned you're just one of the yard-workers. That's it."
Well, there was that inherent feeling of mistrust and distaste, but I didn't think it would be advantageous to mention that. It turned out that I shouldn't have smiled when I spoke to him.
"Yes, you feel that you should say that, a modest little thing like you, but that smile of yours tells me otherwise. Don't worry. Let your feelings flow. I won't tell anyone."
"You're mistaken," I said flatly, not smiling. "Do you have some work that you require me to do or some questions you need answered? If so I am at your service. If not you'll need to leave as I do have work to do."
"Ok, you keep telling yourself that," he said as he pulled some papers out of his pocket. "For right now can you explain these papers to me?"
He put the papers down on my desk and I reached for them. To my surprise he promptly grabbed me by my upper arms and hauled me over the desk into his arms, banging my knees against the edge of the desk as he did so. Like I said, those guys who work in the yard are strong.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I yelled.
"Don't struggle. We're just going to have a little bit of fun. You'll enjoy it. You'll find I'm a really good fuck."
Maybe he was, but I suspect that was only in his own mind. What I did know was that he wasn't going to change this quasi-virgin into a non-virgin if I had anything to say about it, and I'd make damn sure I did.
As soon as I'd been dragged free of the desk gravity returned my feet to the floor. As soon as I had a semblance of balance I lifted one foot and stamped down hard on the bridge of his foot. I wore semi-sensible shoes to work. Namely sensible shoes but with a high heel. Bob might have been wearing work boots but they weren't designed to protect from that sort of thing.
Bob released me with a yell of pain and took a step backwards. (A hop, really.) That put him far enough away for me to try to kick his tackle back into his body, leaving them too nervous to ever descend again. My intention was good but my execution was poor. I only succeeded in kicking his leg.
Bob staggered back and he was giving me a murderous look, his big fists bunching. I was distinctly worried and took a big breath, preparing to scream my head off. I didn't have to as at that point the door burst open and slammed into Bob, knocking him staggering again. From the way he arched his back I suspect that the door knob ploughed into it rather painfully.
"What the fuck," he yelled at the intruder and that was all he had time for. A big hand grabbed his arm and turned him around and another big hand slammed into his stomach. Bob bent in half and Roger grabbed him and simply slung him through the door, where he landed face first.
"Excuse me while I take out the trash," said Roger with a smile, and that was the first time I'd seen him smile.
