A Relationship with Jessica

This is the opposite POV from A Relationship with Jessica. If there is some good feedback I can continue into their relationship.

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Why was I even at this party? My friend had already went to a bedroom with some random guy we just met. The only people there were drunk strangers who looked like their only goal was getting laid or giving themselves alcohol poisoning.

I guess I should have been partying harder my senior summer, but that was never really my thing. Not that I was opposed, it was just that nobody really invited me to parties. I guess being good in school and quiet makes people assume you are innocent. I didn't see myself as one way or the other. I was just kind of, me.

I was never the girl guys wanted to be with. People told me I had a pretty face, and I had a fit body, but I wasn't a girl you would see in magazines. That was until a year or so ago. I must have been a late bloomer. My breasts grew to a B cup, which was nice for a tiny, skinny girl. My hips filled out, but I kept my lower back dimples.

Still, I hadn't had sex, and at 18 I was in the minority at my school. I had a boy finger me once, but it felt like he was just jamming fingers into me. I did watch a lot of porn, though. Something about two people sharing their bodies made me excited.

I got invited to the party by one of my guy friends. I dressed up as much as I could to try to impress these strangers. Instead of making a grand entrance and being the center of the party, I stood in the kitchen alone and tried to overcome my anxiety by drinking. I was a mixed drink in when I saw him.

I had met my friend's brother a few times, but I don't know if I would have considered him a friend- more of a fantasy. He was older, more confident, attractive, and he seemed to always know exactly what he wanted.

He approached me and I got even more nervous than I already was. I tried to play it cool and kept drinking to hide how nervous I was. I finally had enough that I was relaxed, outgoing, and felt confident. I was also really horny. Just this guy talking to me. Me. Plain old me. He was gently making physical contact, looking in my eyes- it all excited me and I realized I had been wet for at least 15 minutes. When he wanted to go outside to smoke and talk more quietly I was all too willing.

We walked into the back yard, and he immediately grabbed me. I was confused, but when he kissed me I went weak at the knees. Could this really be happening? Was he really kissing me? When he put his tongue in my mouth, I felt a rush of endorphins. This hot guy was paying attention to me. I didn't even fight when he slid his hand onto my butt. He actually saw me as a sexual being. Nobody had ever saw me that way before. It was exciting. I didn't even pause when he put his hand inside my bra, or inside my panties. I was a little nervous that somebody would find us, but he could have just pulled his hands away, we wouldn't get caught.

He reached his hands down below my skirt and started to pull my panties down. I instinctively stopped him. I wasn't sure how far I was ready to go for the first time, and definitely didn't want anybody walking out to see me going far with somebody. Whatever extent I wanted to take things, I wanted to do it privately. I sheepishly said that we should find a bedroom. The look on his face told me he was not interested in getting privacy; I also knew tonight might be the night I finally lost my virginity.

In the back of my mind, I was a little disappointed when he said he didn't have a condom. I was relaxed enough that I probably would have very willingly slept with him if he did. When I told him we needed to have a condom, everything took a turn.

I had never heard him be so forceful in his words, so commanding, so alpha. It was a turn on, but now I was afraid. When he told me that I was going to suck his dick, instead of ask me, it threw me off. He apparently had no problem telling me how. I figured if that was as far as I had to go my first time, I could probably do it. Plus the tone in his voice scared me so much that I worried about how he would react if I didn't do what he told me.

I followed his instructions and I licked his dick all over, then took it into my mouth. I could only take about half before I started to gag. It looked a lot easier in the porn videos I had watched online. I felt a little degraded and not entirely sure if I wanted to continue, but he was so forceful that I continued, even though I started to get tears in my eyes.

He told me to lick right below his dick and not to worry about moving my head back and forth, just my tongue. When he said he was going to cum in my mouth, I jolted. The thought of tasting something from somebody else's body grossed me out. He didn't care when I told him, and got even more aggressive. I started to cry now as I realized I was no longer in control. I would have to do what he wanted. He was too dominant and I was just, I don't know, too shy and quiet to protest too much.

He grabbed the back of my head and forced himself into the back of my throat. I looked up at him in tears, almost gagging. When he said "Fine, stand up," I thought maybe he had understood that I needed to be introduced to the world of sex slowly. I was so thankful. I mean, how can you be introduced to new things unless there wasn't a little pressure? It would probably stop there.

I was never more wrong. He slid down my panties with no resistance this time. I was no longer in charge. Then he started to finger me.

Oh my god, this felt good. The only experience I ever had with "fingering" was just annoying. He was gentle, massaged parts of me that sent tingles through my body, and made me start to enjoy it. If this was what fingering was, I was pleasantly surprised that I liked it. I started to feel warm and it got even more intense. I let out a soft moan against my own will. Was that really me? I was so reserved I never thought I would moan in pleasure in front of anybody. having that spot inside me rubbed and my clitoris rubbed at the same turned me on. I would later learn that it was my spot, but at the time all I knew was holy fuck, it felt good.

This must have excited him, because he abruptly turned me around. I wasn't sure what he was going to do, but when I saw him still fingering me, I relaxed. Then I felt it. That was not a finger inside me, that was something different. It was bigger, softer, and filled me more. It felt better. I looked back and realized that, by choice or not, he was having sex with me. I was having sex for the first time. I told him that we couldn't, but apparently he didn't care about a condom. When he said that I must be a lesbian for not wanting sex, I broke. He was insulting me while taking my virginity without a condom. How could I enjoy this? I felt like a door mat, like I had no power. I felt like a slut.

With what felt like my first orgasm ever building up, I told him just not to finish inside of me. He started to push into me faster, and I grew closer to an edge that I was excited for, but almost was afraid of reaching. He asked if I liked it. I knew it felt good, but I didn't even want to go this far. Did I like it? I just knew I was going to get mine since I was already pushed into doing this. I started to push back, getting his cock deeper inside of me. He grabbed my shoulder with this hand still roughly squeezing my ass cheek and pulled me in even harder. I was almost at climax when I gave in, and simply begged for the last thread of dignity I had left. Asking him not to cum inside me must have been a mistake, because in my crying defeat, he grunted that he was going to cum. I continued begging, but as I felt him pulse inside me and felt semen hit a part of my insides that I had never felt before, I gave into his dominance and had my first orgasm.

His manly dominance, me not having a choice, it somehow was all too much for my body to handle. Did I like it? I didn't want to do it...at first. They always told me "no means no," so should I feel ashamed for enjoying it a little bit?

We walked into the house together. He put his arm around me, and I embraced it. If he was my first, maybe I should at least get some kind of a relationship out of it. If we were together, maybe I wouldn't feel like such a whore. Plus, I kind of wanted to do it again.