"They say the first time ain't the greatest …" - Prince
I saw him on campus a few times last semester. A Greek god with dark hair and pale green eyes that reminded me Panama City's gulfwaters. There were always pretty women around him - they all looked like clones of each other: padded bras, flat asses, tiny waists. I was envious. I cannot compete on their field. But, that means that they cannot compete on mine. I am smart, sensual, a caramel princess with every beautiful curve of womanhood.
Kenneth Cole. Known as KC by the satellite women that gravitate around him. He had become a star this season on the varsity soccer team and reaped the rewards bestowed upon by sorority girls. He fucked everyone of them. I can understand that, if I were being "attacked" by gorgeous frat boys, I would NOT be offended at all!
So, I had to enter his life another way, as his philosophy study partner. We were hitting it hard every night, that week for finals. When I met him at the library Friday night, he suggested a six pack and a bit of distraction.
He was an older man (23) and I was being oh-so-charmingly-innocent (18), I did not make much of his wide-eyed expression when he draped his thick arm over my shoulder and escorted out the door.
During that spring semester, he went from hugs to friendly pecks on my cheeks - I suppose those were his tests for me...he wanted to see how far this proud virgin would let him go; how far I would fall. All the way, baby.
He had this small smile all night, like he knew a secret about me. After 3 hours of 19th century philosophy, we (he) decided to take a break, at midnight, in Seneca Park. "Toni, come here." He had climbed up the oak tree that provide shade to the homeplate in the middle of the field. KC called me from the low branch he sat on. I did not want to seem unfeminine, climbing a tree in a dark moist morning of late April, but he called me, so I went. This was my final test.
Frightened of the height and the nocturnal insects, I clasped his arm and laid my head on his shoulder. "Look at me," he was laughing a bit. His hand cupped my chin and ignored my resistance. He pulled his arm free so that my only security was the firm grip he had of my face. He kissed me hard, almost like he was trying to force me backwards, 5 feet to the ground. The more I struggled to keep myself in the tree, the harder he kissed. Finally, I began to realize that if I did not want to fall, I had to let his control hold me there.
When I gave up my control of me, he became tender. I had this desire to please him. His breathy words began to spill out between filling my mouth with his tongue: how much he wanted me, how badly he needed me; how he thought about me when he was with his "girlfriend" Jennifer; how sexy he thought I was. I could not see it then, but he used my competitiveness and insecurities to seduce me. Some men learn that the keys to unlock a woman's resistance are tender speeches.
He jumped from the tree and motioned for me to follow. In the center of the park, the few drivers that passed on either side were oblivious to us. He began to kiss and lick me: my eyes, cheeks, lips, even ears. Then KC eagerly sucked my neck while his chest pinned me against the tree trunk and his hand struggled to enter my panties past my still button waistband.
I had "wanted" him for a long time, but I never really thought we would get to this point. Too often do schoolgirls fantasize about what would we do with the object of our crushes -- I had let the fantasy become a living trauma. I wanted to stop, or at least slow down. I was getting more scared than excited. Neither of the two guys (boys really) I dated in high school got to even touch my precious pink. Their hands could only get as close as my panties would allow. I got great at giving head to preserve my virginity from horny 17 year olds. Now a man doing what only I had, slipping fingers into my virginal cunny.
I was pretty certain KC would not stop if I started to freak out. My tension was building and was apparent to him. His actions and mood became almost animalistic. A low growl from his chest resonated. I could feel the vibration through the pinch of my skin he held in his teeth. "Ohh god!" I cried out, my knees felt weak and warm, he had clamped down on the muscle. The pain screamed out of my tight throat while he was rolling my clit fiercely with the heel of his hand and untold number of fingertips curls up into my softness - I was coming for the first time without my hand. There was a whirlwind of movements; I was still coming as he yanked my capris down my legs and turned me to face the tree. I was torn. My mind was yelling out in disbelief, my body was shaking and my consciousness felt like it was floating somewhere on the outside, I was unable to move.
There was an awkward stillness. It was like a motion picture moment when you know the killer is stalking his next prey. KC's cock speared into me, hot and dry, tearing away at the small bit of hymen I was intending to save for someone special. The burning hot sensation of my delicate ring widening over his thick shaft radiated waves of prickly heat through me.
In my heart, I was crying, but my body was delirious at the sensation of my first full cock. He was saying something as he pulled at my hips, slamming my ass into his well-toned abs. I could not understand him. There was a time when I struggled to feel, to interpret what was happening. The shock of the force, the pain, and the pleasure was poisoning and addicting.
I felt like I was floating higher. His right hand reached my clitoris, pinching and pulling at the crimson bud. I had not stopped coming the first time but now, it grew beyond anything I had ever felt. I want to cry - to release the tension, but no tears fell.
It was then I became completely enraptured with him, the sight of his pale pole gliding into my dark pinkness, with smell and sensation of sex, even with the awful control he had over me - it was all so very intense.
I crumpled to the hard, knotty tree roots.
His thick flesh still pumping into me; he guided my fall - hovering over my back and digging his fingers into my hips. In my mind, there was this dark pool that I was drowning in, but I could breathe. Everything overwhelmed me.
I could no longer deny that I wanted it, I wanted him to do this to me.
In those few moments, this white jock had accomplished what my buppie (black yuppie) boyfriend had not in a year and a half of dating. This sick perversion was cutting its way into me, mixing with my blood -- changing me forever.
I was writhing, struggling this time to meet him. I felt like I was soaring above our fucking bodies; I could here his heart pounding; I could taste his sweat; I could feel his dick swell and spasm within me.
