I ran my hands through my hair again, smoothing out imaginary knots. I needed something to do, so I stood up from my bed and walked over to my mirror. I tugged at the t-shirt I was wearing this way and that, making it reveal the figure underneath. The hem ended just past my crotch, my legs extending beneath it. Was it too loose? What if it wasn't sexy enough? He did say I could wear the shirt, but what if he'd meant something else? It was probably too late to ask now...
-
I met him online. Buried amongst the more explicit and direct postings and sex ads I browsed out of curiosity, his post had stood out for its title. Specializing in shy girls. He offered to show me all these "things" that I had only seen in movies and the internet, all at my own pace of course!
See, at 19, I no longer wanted to still have NOT been with anyone before. It was embarrassing, but I had no idea how other girls my age seemed to get strings of boys lining up for them all the time. It's not that I didn't want to, I just didn't know how. I suppose I'd stayed true to the cliche of the Asian student, and spent all my time reading or studying, limiting my time spent with what my draconian mother referred to as "shameful people"...meaning I spent most of my time alone. Now that I had moved away for college, I realized I was free for the first time in my life -- and I wasn't sure where to start. Luckily, this man I met said he could show me anything I wanted to know about!
When I'd first messaged him, I didn't really know what to say other than that I was interested. He responded fairly quickly, asking about my height, weight, where I lived, and stuff like that. He said I could call him "J", and he was 22, just 4 years older than me, and also in college. He asked about my fantasies, and I panicked a little because I didn't want to give away how little I knew, but also didn't want to come off as a complete slut. So, I lied and said I liked "petting", a term I saw used a lot on the forum. He seemed to find it funny, but said we could do that, no problem. He sent me a photo of himself -- he was kinda cute, seemed fit, and not psycho looking. Good enough, I guessed.
After that, he helped us make a plan to meet quite quickly. All I had to do was give him my address, leave the door unlocked and wait for him in my bedroom with the lights off. And, at first, he told me I should be naked, but I balked at the idea and he, being nice, said I could wear a t-shirt if I was shy. But he assured me that having the lights off would mean that he wouldn't see much of me anyway, so there was no need to be embarrassed.
-
I felt a little foolish worrying about how I looked, considering we were just going to fool around a little in the dark. I reassured myself that he did say it was going to be harmless and fun, and he could tell I was going to enjoy myself. And I could always make him leave at any time if it wasn't fun anymore!
I padded out of my bedroom, and only hesitated briefly before unlocking the front door to my apartment. It's not like he was already waiting outside...right? I peeked out the peephole, and sure enough, the hallway was empty. I was just being silly.
I went back to my bedroom, turned off the lights, and got into bed. I spent the first 15 minutes almost frozen, staring at the ceiling, listening for the sound of the door handle turning, or a creak of the floorboards. I started to get nervous -- this was a little risky, right? Just about anyone could come into my room right now...
I plucked my phone off the nightstand, checking for new messages on the site from him...nothing since this morning, when he said he'd be here tonight. Unable to resist the urge, I started typing a "Are you still coming?" text. What if I was being overly desperate? Wouldn't that turn him off? I deleted it and turned off my phone. If he was coming, he'd show up soon, I told myself.
Trying to distract myself, I let my mind drift to what would happen when J showed up. I'd read more about "petting", and it seemed to range from touching, kissing, and "fingering", which I wasn't really sure about. J had promised to go super slow, though. I wondered what petting meant for the guy -- would I have to give him a handjob? I suppose that didn't seem too hard-
I was interrupted by the sound of the front door being locked. Crap! I hadn't even heard it open! I started to panic -- should I be lying down, or sitting on the bed, or should I open the bedroom door to let him in?
As I deliberated on my options, my bedroom door opened, and he walked in.
Almost by reflex, I sat up in bed, swinging my legs over the side. I didn't dare to look up at him -- in the dim light that leaked in through the curtains from the street, he seemed much, much larger than I imagined. So there I sat, frozen, staring at his boots -- "He hadn't taken them off at the door! My mum would have a fit!" I caught myself thinking, before finally registering that he had turned to shut and lock the door, and, oh, good, he was taking off his shoes...and was getting undressed!
"What are you doing?"
I hated how high pitched and weak my voice sounded.
"Hello to you too, sweetheart."
His voice was deep and low, and I could almost hear the smile. I tried to relax. I didn't want to come off as a hysterical freak.
"I'm just getting comfortable. Is that okay?"
I nod, before realizing that he probably couldn't see it.
"Yea. Sorry."
The sorry had slipped out, unintentionally.
"That's alright. You can make it up to me later."
My breath caught in my throat as I tried to imagine what that could mean. At the same time, he closed the distance between us, his clothes lying on the ground by the door.
Instinctively, I scooted back on the bed, until my back pressed against the wall my bed was against.
Chuckling, he climbed onto my bed, kneeling between my legs. He leaned closer to me, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that there was a large, naked, stranger in my bed with me, and all I was wearing was a little shirt-
"Nervous?"
I nodded. He reached forward and cupped my face, his thumb caressing my cheek.
"Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel good. That's what you want, right?"
I nod again, rendered mute by my nerves. I finally look up at him, and found him staring directly back at me. I vaguely registered that even in the dark, he seemed much older than the boy in the picture he sent me. Actually, he looked nothing like the picture, with thinning hair and scruff and...a pot belly? How old was this guy actually, 40?
Before I could say anything, he pulled me towards him and pressed his lips to mine.
I was surprised, even though I had known that we were probably going to kiss -- I had expected a warning, or something! But he was already moving his lips, and pressing his tongue against mine -- and I didn't know what to do!
He broke away, briefly.
"Open up for me, little girl."
Dumbly, I let my lips part slightly this time, and he forced his tongue into my mouth. It didn't taste bad, but it all felt so foreign as I let him explore my mouth with his tongue.
As the initial surprise of my first kiss subsided, I became aware of his hands running down my body -- my sides, my hips, my thighs...and a hand snuck its way under my shirt, pawing upwards.
I gasped at the sudden move, trying to pull away, but it was almost as if he anticipated it and moved with me, placing another hand on my back to guide me sideways instead, until I was lying on my back with him on top of me.
His hand glided across my belly, and found my breasts quickly. My eyes flew open, and I grabbed his hand. He stopped kissing me, and looked at me quizzically. This was all happening much faster that I expected.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" I sensed a hint of impatience in his voice.
"Yes, but-"
"Do you want me to make you feel good, or not?"
"I-I'm sorry, I'm just nervous"
"Trust me, it'll feel nice. Just keep kissing me, and let me take care of you, okay?"
