Portia and I (part 2) [m/f]

Hi again! I figured I will tell the rest of my story, thanks to those who encouraged it. This one is uncharacteristically short, but remains one of my favourite memories, and I hope you'll see why!

Here is part one…

I hope you have a drink in your hand. Here's to many more stories to come. -W


It couldn't have been any more than a couple of days after my first explosive sexual experience at the hands of two university acquaintances that I, unsurprisingly, began to crave more.

I told Portia at a bar that evening. The two of us had gone from strangers to great friends almost instantly. The way she saw the world, saw men, was just exactly the way I wanted to. The way she reached out and grabbed what she wanted was so enviable. We shared a sense of humour, a taste in men, an opinion of the definition of fun.

It didn't take me long to figure out that the girl was damaged in a way that I didn't really understand. I should have seen it from the very beginning, but I was mesmerised by her control of every situation and person that she came across. She played the world around her like a skilled conductor, and I felt myself quickly turning into the person I perhaps always knew I should have been.

It was intoxicating.

"If you want to fuck him, you have to fuck him," she was saying over a free daiquiri. She had made a bet with the sexy barman that if she could guess the size of his penis within a half inch he would give her this round on the house, and she'd been right on the money. It was a hilarious and dizzyingly accurate party trick that never failed to entertain, or shock, wherever she went.

She was talking about my housemate. I lived with two girls and one guy, Will, who found it hard to make friends with men on account of his hatred of everything except beer, computer games and tits.

"It's not as easy as that," I said, "firstly he's out of my league-"

"Oh, shut up!" she immediately screeched, slamming her drink down onto the counter and flagging over the barman again.

"What?" he asked cheerily, "you gonna guess the size of my balls too?"

"No, that's impossible," Portia said, dismissing his question with a frantic hand wave. "Would you fuck my friend here? If you could? She has terrible self esteem."

"Um…" He eyed me warily and I gave him a defeated half smile. "Obviously, why?"

"See?" She stuck her face in my face and hissed it.

"Yeah, but wanting to have sex with someone and thinking they're actually attractive are-"

"Is she hot? Would you call her hot?"

"Um, yes. Why?" Poor man, standing there cleaning glasses, doomed as a bartender to be accosted by drunkards all night every night.

"You're a thin young blonde with huge tits, symmetrical face, clear skin, nice hair…why do you think you're not drop dead gorgeous?"

"I…" I deflated a little. I grew very quickly uncomfortable with this subject so I simply conceded the point to her. "I don't know."

"Look, I have a proposition for you. A way to prove to you that you're good looking. You ready?"

"Well-"

"Does Will lock his door at night?"

Oh already it was so creepy. "No, I don't think so."

"Good. You're going to get a little bit drunk tonight and you're going to go home, pull off your underwear, sneak into his room and without speaking you're going to ride him. Ok?" She was jabbing a dark red painted fingernail at me as she spoke. I looked down at myself, sucked in my stomach a little. Didn't respond. "Look, do you agree that he wouldn't have sex with you in that situation unless you were attractive?"

"Yes," I implored. "Which is exactly why I would nev-"

"If it doesn't work, say it was a dare from me that you took because you were drunk. Get out of jail free card. But it will work, because holy shit, no guy would turn that down."

"Lucky guy," the bartender shot over his shoulder. Eavesdropping bastard.

I glared at her and downed my cocktail.

"Get her another one, would you?" Portia yelled over the bar. The bartender rolled his eyes but actually started to make me another drink. I gaped. "Make it stronger this time."

An hour later and I was cackling like a witch at the way the bartender and my friend were now outrageously flirting with each other. We must have driven all the other patrons away because one by one they'd moved on to clubs, parties, and left the three of us to whisper and squeal.

"Girls, I can't keep giving these away for free," he said sternly, as Portia shook her empty glasss at him, black curls falling in front of her face and sticking to her lipgloss. She blew a raspberry and pouted, and he laughed. "How about a kiss?"

She sprang to her feet, placed both palms flat on the sticky counter and leaned over. He met her lips with his own and they kissed once. She pulled back and he put his hand to the back of her head to stop her moving away. They kissed again, long and slow. She moaned into his mouth. He let her go and turned around to make us another round of free drinks, I shook my head in utter disbelief. Life really was easier for pretty girls, wasn't it? Portia would have told me off for thinking that I didn't belong among those ranks.

"I'm too drunk," I announced, "I have to go home."

"Promise me you'll get laid?" Portia frowned, a hand on her hip.

I laughed. "Yeah, yeah I promise."

"Seriously, though, that guy doesn't even know what's in store for him." The barman raised his eyebrows at us. "You are one very generous young woman."

"I try to do my bit," I said with a stage bow. And with that, I tripped away outside to catch a cab. "Use a condom!" I yelled over my shoulder at them, just to be obnoxious. They were already making out again. Portia giggled at me.

The journey home is foggy, but I paid and made it to my front door. It was almost 2am, he would definitely be in bed…was I actually considering this? What would it do to my self esteem if he rejected me? I wasn't sure I would be able to recover from a blow like that.

I went to my room and slid off my knickers, wiggling out of them and smoothing out the tight dress she had made me wear. I brushed my hair out with my fingers and traced a line around my lips to catch any smudges I couldn't see.

I really didn't look bad.

My heart jolted as it realised before my brain that I was actually considering this. Not even considering, I was doing it. I was going to do it. I pulled my phone out of my purse and texted her, 'I can't believe I'm doing this.' Then threw it on my bed.

I walked down the stairs slowly. His bedroom was on the ground floor beyond the living area. I walked through the darkness, tripping on a stray cushion and steadying myself on the arm of the sofa. I stopped at his door, decided to knock twice. No answer. My mouth totally dry now, I knocked again.

"Hnh?" A sleepy questioning noise. I swallowed, took a deep breath, swallowed again. Opened the door.

It was almost pitch black in his bedroom. What was I doing? This was crazy, this was so invasive.

I took long careful steps over to his bed, against the far wall. A slit was open in his curtains and moonlight spilled in a line across the carpet. I crossed it, and he said my name, and sat up a little. I wondered if he was worried something was wrong.

"Do you mind?" I asked, as I moved to pull back the covers.

My eyes had begun to adjust to the dim moonlight and I saw him rub sleep out of his eyes and look at me perplexed. My heart was hammering in my throat, I felt guilty for disturbing him, but when his mouth twisted into a confused smile I felt something else.

He shook his head slowly. Will was very attractive. He spent all of his spare time in the gym. He had told me once that he was worried it wasn't normal to dislike people as quickly and often as he did. But we hung out playing games at home and chatting at parties often enough that I had always been confident that I was as close to a friend as he was capable of having.

I pulled back the covers. He helped, moving them totally to the side. He was only wearing blue and white striped boxers, very loose at the leg but tight and elasticated just below the hips. His stomach and chest were perfectly toned and tight, just what was expected of someone who so obsessively worked on his body.

I would have been encouraged by some hardness. When I saw none, I stopped short and felt my body get a little colder.

WWPD. What would Portia do?

Well, I knew the answer to that. I ran my palm up his thigh and to the waistband of his boxers, and tugged them down, looking him right in his sleepy eyes.

"This isn't like you," he mumbled.

"Exactly," I said back, and under my hand his cock shifted and started to grow. "Do you mind?"

He rearranged himself slightly. "Be my guest…"

I smiled. The guilt dissipated entirely, and I pulled his boxers off. He lifted his hips to let me pull them down, and then kicked them off and away with his foot. He stretched his arms back and put his hands behind his head and smiled with amusement at me as I tried to figure out what to do next.

With a careless shrug aimed at nobody in particular, I bent over and licked his hardening cock once from the base to the tip. I heard him quietly laugh. I wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

I looked up at him grinning down at me and I decided I wanted him to stop thinking entirely.

I climbed up onto the bed and straddled him, grinding close to his crotch with a catch in my breath so he could feel the bare wetness under my dress. He bit his lip and he moved his hips slightly so the head of his dick was right where it needed to be. Surprisingly expert little move for someone so antisocial. With my eyes still trained on his, I lifted myself a little to hover over him. He bit his lip and moved around underneath me until he found me again, then smiled up at me. In the poor lighting I could see colour had filled his cheeks and ears.

He wanted this, he really did. And in that moment I wondered why I had been so sure he wouldn't be.

I slowly sat down on his crotch, his impressive size filling me up totally and immediately. He tilted his head backwards and let out a breath, the ecstasy of that initial penetration taking over him entirely, just for that brief moment. His hands gripped my butt like he'd thought about exactly how he'd do it before. The realisation that he wanted this just like I did was enough to entirely lubricate the act. I started slowly to move my hips, feeling my clit grind against his pubic hair, a strangely fantastic feeling.

I started to move faster, arching my back and sticking out my chest, still fully clothed, at him. I looked down and his eyes were closed and his mouth open, his hands creeping up my sides to squeeze my boobs and his breathing quickening and becoming harsher.

I leant back further, reaching behind me to grab his ankles in both hands to prop myself up, and continued to grind against him, feeling his cock harden even more inside of me, and hit all the right places at this angle. With my hands on his legs like this he found it hard to pound me from underneath, so aside from squeezing me through my bra and occasionally lifting his hips to meet a stroke, he was not involved in this at all.

I got faster and faster, letting a breathy sigh leave me. He was silent but for the quicker and louder breathing, his mouth opening and shutting, his teeth scraping against his bottom lip so it went white, and then folded with colour again.

"I'm gonna…" he said, so quietly.

I wordlessly took one of his hands and put it between my legs. He started to eagerly rub me as I fucked him, harder and harder the closer I got.

"Wait," I managed to say, then leaned all the way forward and gasped into his neck.

I squeezed and fluttered against his cock as I came, letting out a barely contained whimper.

All he could say was 'oh…' with surprise as the feeling of my pleasure caused him to come too, with hardly any warning, dick twitching, shooting hot ropes inside of me again and again. He gripped my hips with his fingertips so hard he left little half moon nail marks on my skin.

I sat on him for a few more seconds, face in his neck, as we panted and pushed our hips together. Then I pulled back, kissed him on his soft lips for the first time, and then stood up, mouth on fire, and put my fingers to my lips. Such a perfect kisser, I hadn't expected that at all.

"Wait," he started, as I stepped off the bed. I looked at him. He didn't know what else to say. I smiled and walked out of his room, shutting the door with a soft click.

I escaped upstairs with his cum, hot and wet, threatening to leak onto the floor of our student house, and lent against my bedroom door. An unread text said 'you make that boy cry ;)'. I smirked to myself in the dark.

I think I knew then that this would not be the last time I would have him.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3efmzp/portia_and_i_part_2_mf

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