Once upon a time, not very long ago, I used to be a nervous wreck around college girls in campus who were both younger and prettier than me. The reason I haven’t really described my looks past my hair color and general build is because I look like a white ogre. I lie and say that I’ve got a thick body and a pretty face, but no, I’m the opposite. I’m a butterfaced, Butterball turkey type of girl. I’ve accepted that, and I’m okay with it. Because I’m really fucking good at sex.
Also, everything I’ve got in my life, I had to work hard for. I would never trade in my plain Jane upbringing, if it meant that I would have to redo the last few years of my life with men fawning over me, showering me in gifts, and spoiling me. Alright, that would be nice, but the point is that I can spoil myself, and shower myself in gifts.
Tell me why I felt so dirty the way I handled this situation. I spied Mark on campus, from afar. Like, far enough to have to yell to get his attention. I was people watching in between classes when I saw him, Red Bull in hand, heading towards the dorms. He was with someone, and she was devastatingly pretty. She was also young. I wanted to let it get to me. That brand of despair can be addicting, if you become used to it. More fuel for me to throw on the bonfire that is self-pity.
He was smiling, and laughing. She was twirling her hair. I wanted to know what they were saying. I couldn’t take anymore. I let my territorial reptile brain take over, and the crazy bitch who lives there dragged me right off of the bench. I marched over until I was in sight, changing my gait to a relaxed one. He shared his amazing smile with me when he saw me. The girl bolted on a very fake grin, as she turned her head to me.
“Hey, Starla,” he said, as he went for the hug. Any other time, I would have laughed in his face, and stopped him from completing the awkward gesture, but I was over there for his attention anyway. He hugged me like he had known me for decades, and he hadn’t just seen me last week. “This is Sarah” he said to me, gesturing to the girl.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” she said.
“Nice to me you, too,” I replied, cheesing my way through a smile. “What are you kids up to?”
“Oh, we just live in the same dorm. I was just walking back with her,” he said, as if the obvious hook-up happening here was the biggest scandal of the year. A part of me wondered if he really was oblivious to her designs for him.
“You look tired, sugar,” I said, looking up into his drooping eyes. “Have you eaten today?” He looked at Sarah, whose smile was vanishing by the second.
“I mean, I actually uh… I had an apple at breakfast. I haven’t really eaten today,” he said.
“What about you… Sarah, right? You hungry?”
“Nah, I just ate,” she said, pushing her bangs back behind her ears.
“Oh,” Mark said, with a face like he just remembered a crucial detail. “I can’t really eat anywhere besides on campus at the moment, anyway.”
“Why is that,” I asked, with a sly grin.
“Can’t afford—” I cut him off.
“Where’d you get the idea that you’d be paying for anything?” Sarah’s eyebrows were actively twitching now. “I’ll take you both out, if you’d like.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Sarah spoke up, stepping a bit closer to Mark’s side. She was pretty. She was much prettier than I’ll ever be. But good looks couldn’t do anything for the void in his belly.
“Here’s what you can do,” I said, folding my hands together in front of me, sweetly. “After you’ve walked her back, text me. I’ll come scoop you up, and we can go eat.” The look on his face, when he realized that he had been standing in the middle of a chessboard, was worth the entire exchange.
“Sarah, you sure you don’t—”
“Actually, I’ve got work I need to be doing anyway,” she said. “You should go ahead and eat. Before your next class.” Then, she retreated, leaving me there with my favorite little boy toy. I took him to get some Chinese takeout, and ate it in my minivan. I was utterly intoxicated by this young man. His bright eyes only grew brighter as he filled his belly, and I knew that if I sat and stared any longer, my clothes were going to start magically disappearing. Most importantly, he was okay with being with me in public. I’ve been at that stage with some men in the past, where they’ll fuck me, but can’t be bothered to be with me in broad daylight. Mark was different. That’s why he gets an entry.
We sat in the park parking lot for half an hour, when he started to nod off. “I’m *so* sorry,” he said in a panic, when his eyes opened back up. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You were already tired, and then ate a heavy meal,” I said to him, trying to be understanding. “It’s okay. Do you wanna take a nap?”
“I… what time is it?”
“2:35,” I said.
“Already missed my class,” he said. “No, we can keep hanging out.”
“That’s not what I asked,” I said. “If you want to take a quick nap in here, you can. I do it all the time.”
“That… that won’t be weird?”
“Why take you all the way home, just to pick you up an hour later? Close your eyes, silly boy,” I said. He reclined his chair, eyeing me suspiciously. “It’s not a test.”
“Dude, thanks. This is so clutch,” he said, settling into a comfortable position. I removed my shawl, which smelled heavily of my perfume and shampoo, and draped it over his torso, as a half blanket. I caught him sniffing it a few times when he thought I wasn’t looking. Overloaded with all of my affection and personal attention, he drifted off to sleep pretty quickly.
I spied his curious erection forcing a ridge into my shawl, as he yawned in his sleep. The poor boy was fucking his own clothing on my behalf, and I wanted to see exactly how horny he was for me. I laid my hand down on top of his cock, just rubbing it back and forth, while watching his dreams warp his face. He was moaning now, and his brow furrowed with thick, brown waves.
“Mmmm, is this for me, baby,” I asked, his eyes opening just enough for me to see a thin black stripe in each.
“Starla, what… What are you doing?” He didn’t move my hands away, and he didn’t stop me as I unraveled him, bit by bit. He folded his arms in, as if he were nervous, once I had him down to his boxers and his shirt. “We’re in public.”
“I know. No one ever comes out here,” I said, as if that were supposed to somehow make the situation better. I forgot how little he knew about me; how much of a creep I am. The dark thoughts that creep around my head. I had to ask myself if I had just kidnapped this boy. If he wasn’t saying no to me because of “the implications” to quote Dennis Reynolds.
“Ok… I just don’t wanna get in trouble.”
“We can go back to my place, if you’re worried,” I said. He beamed at the suggestion, so that’s where we went. I won’t alter the details of what happened; things were awkward at first. More specific than him not knowing where and how to touch me, he wasn’t even sure how to ask. But that was okay. He was a lump of clay to me, now. What continued to thrill me, even after it was over was that from now on, for the rest of his life, every woman he has sex with, he’ll do it as if he is fucking me, still. He’ll touch her like I’m still the one in his arms; he’ll long for my weight on his chest, when he asks her to mount him. He’ll wait patiently for her tongue to probe his mouth, and compare her flavor to me. At least, that’s what I like to think.
He didn’t make me orgasm. That’s okay. He came for me twice, so I know for a fact he tried his hardest. I can’t ask for anything more than that. I came closest when he had me in a close missionary position, his throat rumbling against my own. There was a stretch of time where any time he made a sound, it would come out at a slightly higher pitch than the one before it. When he told me that he was going to cum, his voice was pure and crisp like crystal, higher in pitch than mine. I wanted to cum for him. I wanted to give him that honor; if I could have reached into the nightstand and handed him an orgasm, I would have done so without hesitation. But, he’s a work in progress. I know that in the future, he will know me and my body so well that he’ll be able to make me scream his name into my pillows.
He started reaching for his clothing, after he finished, but he did so in slow motion, waiting for my input. I slipped my hands around his trunk, and tugged him back down into my bed. “Sleep with me,” I said. My phone buzzed, and I pounced on it before he could see the screen. It was time to take my medication. How could I let him see that? I could see a black and grey cloud seep into the room from some other, entirely mental dimension, and my limbs turned to frosted granite around him; arms and ankles locked together.
“Okay,” he said. I was too ashamed to look into his face, to see how he took the news that he wasn’t going to be leaving soon. Then, he kissed my forehead.
“Thank you,” I said to him.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/628d5b/starlas_sex_journal_20317_mfstr8nonfic