College Starts With A Bang [FM]

College brought a whole new host of opportunities to by emerging sexual sensibilities. I knew that my parents were spending good money to send me off to an expensive school so that I could get the best education I could get, but as the wheels of higher education started moving, I was primarily concerned with expanding my sexual conquests. Unfortunately, it seemed like college was ready for me, with a strict set of rules that were tailor made to stop all the fun I had been prepared for (on retrospect, these are all good and solid rules I should have followed, but that wouldn’t have been any fun): Freshmen were prohibited from all parties, frat and sorority houses for their first semester at the school.

Fortunately, I had two things going for me. The first was one of the frats, the Phi Delts, known for being the party house on campus, who had a challenge every year for its brothers to sneak freshman girls into the house without being detected. The second was a badass RA who knew that holding a bunch of teenagers longing to be adults back was only going to make things worse in the long run. So, as the school year prepared to begin, she called a meeting for her section of the dorm and laid out her own rules: No guys in the dorm after hours, she didn’t care if we went out at night to do whatever we wanted, but be quiet and courteous on the way back in at the end of the night, and if we got caught out and about, not to mention that she’d given us permission. Her name was Emily, and she was a badass.

Unfortunately, the first couple weeks were dry. Most of the boys that interested me in the freshman class were clinging onto their long distance high school sweethearts, and the upper class students were more preoccupied with the bimbo cheerleaders than a little nerd girl like me. I poured my soul out to Emily one Friday night, how I’d expected college to be different from high school, how I thought that my sexual experience over the summer would carry over into the new school year, and how horribly I wanted to just be noticed by a few of these guys.

Emily laid down some harsh truths for me, sitting me in front of a mirror and asking me what I saw that set me apart. I had to admit, I wasn’t doing much. My red hair was unbrushed and pulled back into a messy ponytail, my DD tits were thoroughly lost under a formless sweater, and my grey sweatpants were the absolute opposite of sexy. My posture was only slightly less hunched over than Igor, and I was completely without makeup. I could have easily been mistaken for an effeminate guy. No wonder no guys had been giving me a second thought. So, just like a crappy 80s movie, Emily decided it was time for a makeover.

I cannot emphasize this enough, EVERY GUY I have been with that night is because of Emily. We tried different clothes from her own closet before settling on a sort of sexy librarian look (which I still pull off to this day) that was an instant winner. She brushed out my hair and pulled it back into a neat bun, and she taught me the finer points of applying makeup, even going so far as to give my penniless, unemployed freshman ass a starter kit. When I looked at myself in the mirror afterwards, I cried. It was the first time in my life that I felt pretty.

The problem with my new style, though, was that it took time. I used to be able to go from dead asleep to ready for class in five minutes. My new routine took 45 minutes, which I later cut down to under a half hour. That first week, I hated losing an hour of sleep just to look pretty for the world. It was worth it, though, the first time I saw a guy do a double take. By that Friday, I was starting to feel like a totally different woman. I was more confident, more in control. I’d never dream of walking hunched over. And I felt SEXY. Sitting in class, I could feel eyes wandering over me. There was part of me that was slightly indignant, I knew that I should shoot them a dirty look or somehow indicate that it wasn’t okay to ogle me like a piece of meat…but I kind of really liked it. So I just held my head high and watched pretended like I didn’t even see them. Not everyone was so sly, though.

It took two weeks for a Phi Delt to approach me, at the dining hall, of all places. It was a tall, lean, blonde guy named Chad. He had a million dollar smile and filled out his Phi Delta sweatshirt very nicely. He flashed me his pearly whites and called me by name, despite the fact that we had never spoken before. He sat with me and laid it on thick, as if I wasn’t absolutely ready to lay back on the table and let him take me in front of God and everyone. I honestly don’t remember most of what he said, as my ears were pounding at the idea that this gorgeous man was making a pass at me. Emily had warned me to play it cool, though. Guys don’t mind desperation, but they’ll appreciate a woman they feel they have to work for more. So, while I wanted him to fuck me like I’d never been fucked before, I made a concentrated effort to not let on. I kept glancing at the notes I’d been studying before he’d approached me, I laughed when it was appropriate, but not too much, I responded to his questions, but as briefly and succinctly as I could. It was agony, but I could see his interest piquing. He ended up by simply throwing out a “Talk to ya later” and walking away. No future plans, no exchanging of phone numbers, nothing. Just four words and another award-winning smile. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement, but I went back to my studies and tried to keep up appearances.

–

It didn’t take long for Chad to come back. That night, sitting in my room, studying for an upcoming quiz, the room phone rang. With no one else in the room, I answered. Chad’s buttery voice oozed through the phone and immediately set my mind on fire. He wanted to know if I had any plans for the night. It was a Friday night, and I was sitting in my room studying for a quiz. Needless to say, I managed to find time in my busy schedule for the Greek God who was asking for me. We set up a place to meet, and after checking in with Emily, I was on my way. Chad was waiting just outside the building we’d arranged. He spotted me coming, and we stopped a few steps away from each other, and drank in the sights, fully aware of what was about to come. He was wearing a button down shirt, with the top few buttons undone, dark dress pants and shoes. I went weak in the knees, feeling woefully inadequate for such a man. It took me a moment to remember my makeover: with sheer pantyhose, a pencil skirt, black flats, and a white blouse, all courtesy of my father’s credit card (at his consent, of course), and my hair and makeup done to their utmost, I had to remind myself that I was no slouch, either. Inside, though, I was still the nerd who opted for comfort over stylishness, and a part of me wanted to flee at top speed, go home, and just sit in front of the TV, cramming my face full of chips and cookies. I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and smiling. His eyes were drawn to my ruby red lips, and I was flattered to find that he was a bit speechless. He recovered quickly, though, and, to my great surprise, didn’t immediately invite me back to his room. We walked around the scenic campus, taking in the sights and just talking. He was extremely charming, and I found myself letting my façade slip away. After an hour, maybe more, of just wandering campus, we found ourselves standing in front of the Phi Delt house. It was so natural, it almost seemed like an accident. Almost.

He softly asked if I’d like to come inside, and I, of course, said yes. It was all I could do to let him get the entire question out before answering. He took me by the arm and whisked me inside before any RA or security guard could see us (a sentence that is infinitely more creepy than intended), and I found myself standing on forbidden ground. I was raised a good girl, and that was, at the time, still my default operating procedure. To be standing in a place I’d been told I was absolutely not allowed was thrilling. It was like alarm bells going off in the back of my brain, but I was with a beautiful man, and I hadn’t gotten laid in weeks, so I didn’t care. I don’t remember seeing anyone on the way to his room, though I heard plenty of tantalizing sounds coming from behind closed doors. When we entered his room, he finally let go of my arm, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a crazed lust in his eyes. At that exact moment, I’m not sure if I could have said no to him if I had wanted to. I didn’t want to. He launched himself at me, and I fell backwards onto his bed, still not fully familiar with my surroundings. He kissed me firmly, his hands at my waist. None of my past partners had spent much time kissing me, and when they had, they hadn’t been very good, something I hadn’t been totally aware of until just then. Chad was exquisite, due, in no small part, I’m sure, to plenty of practice. He slid his hand down and under me, giving my ass a firm squeeze as he ground his crotch against me. I was on fire, and his growing bulge was doing nothing to cool me off. I attempted to flip him, eager to take matters into my own hands. He growled and slammed me back onto the mattress, releasing my ass and pinning my arms over my head. He paused, the fury and lust fading from his face just slightly. I smiled and ground myself against his crotch, silently giving my consent for whatever he wanted to do with my body. I’m not typically submissive, but in the face of someone we think is out of our league, I think everyone has bent the rules once or twice.

He recognized the signal and smiled back, a wicked, lustful smile, very much unlike the suave, seductive grin he’d flashed countless times over the course of the evening. He kept my hands pinned with one of his (I have small hands, and he was a big guy, one hand was plenty), and explored my body with the other. He seemed particularly interested in my tits, as most guys seem to be. He fumbled with the buttons on my top for a moment before giving up in frustration and just ripping it from where it was tucked in my waistband and bunching it up above my tits, still held high and proud in a white bra. He slid a hand underneath my back and deftly unfastened my bra in a single try. How he was able to do that so easily, but he fumbled with my buttons, I never got the chance to ask. As my nipples came into view, he devoured them, tweaking one with one hand, swirling his tongue around the other, and sending me into orbit in no time. I didn’t even realize that he’d changed position until I felt a hand between my legs. He’d moved from straddling me to being just off to my side. He’d released my hands, though, as I hadn’t been aware of him releasing them, I still had them above my head. He was still showering my tits with attention while using one hand to massage between my legs, through my skirt. With my hands free, I gently reached down, not wanting to discourage what he was doing, and grabbed two handfuls of my skirt, shimmying it up my thighs until it was bunched around my waste like a belt. He continued his attention, this time with nothing but a pair of panties separating his fingers from my soaking wet pussy. I hadn’t realized how horny I’d been from weeks of no attention, but at the hands of this Adonis, I could barely contain myself. I pulled his face from my breast to kiss him again and fumbled with one hand over his crotch. When I found what I was looking for, it surprised me so much, I pulled back from the kiss, and I guess the look on my face was easy to read, because Chad just grinned. He reached down and undid his belt, unfastened his pants, and shimmied them down. He. Was. HUGE. Like, intimidating, but beautiful. Awe inspiring. God like. I honestly had no idea how I was going to fit it all inside me. But it needed to. I had to have it.

He stood up, his tool waving hypnotically in the air. I laid back, fully on display for his pleasure. He quietly asked if I was on the pill, which I was. He nodded, and then slipped my panties off, hooked my legs over his shoulders and dragged me, squealing, to the very edge of the bed, so my ass was hanging off the mattress. He took the huge, swollen head and rubbed it over my slit. Then, I held my breath as he found my opening, and pushed. HARD. He was bound and determined to bury every inch of his absolute monster in me with one thrust. I was wet. Hell, I was soaking, but I wasn’t wet enough for what he was trying to do. I am on the small side, and it felt like he was trying to force a tree trunk inside me. He grunted in frustration when he was stopped by my tightness, and he eased back an inch or two before pushing forward again, slowly. After several rounds of this, getting further each time, he triumphantly bottomed out. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling, but not at all what I’d expected from taking something that size inside of me. It was a mixture of extreme pleasure and pain. I’d never felt anything quite like it. Burning tightness, fullness, I simultaneously wanted it out of me forever and never wanted it to leave. Before I could fully process what I was feeling, he started fucking. There was little to no ramp up, he simply gave me a couple seconds to adjust to the massive invasion, then swiftly pulled back several inches and slammed home again. I screamed in pain and pleasure, not caring that I wasn’t allowed to be there. I felt violated, though not necessarily in a bad way. As I got used to it, the sensations got better, more comfortable, though he lacked subtlety. He clearly thought that a big dick was all he needed to be good in bed.

He wasn’t bad, to be fair. It’s hard not to hit the right spot when you’re hitting ALL the spots. After several minutes of hard fucking, with my knees on his shoulders, he unceremoniously pulled out, a WEIRD feeling of utter emptiness. Without a word, he scooped me up and flipped me, dropping me on my stomach before re-entering me. If ever I had any doubt about the benefits of doggy style, this made me a full blown convert. The difference was extreme. Maybe it was just because I couldn’t see him anymore, so the difference was psychological, or maybe it was the angle, or maybe it was because my body was already adjusted to his length and girth, but him sliding back in, all in one slick movement, was one of those moments where my eyes rolled back in my head and I left my body. He resumed fucking at the same pace, but it was clear he was approaching the end. His breathing was getting erratic, as was his thrusting. He still had one surprise up his sleeve, though.

As he approached climax, he, without warning, pushed a thumb into my exposed virgin asshole. I won’t say it was good. I won’t say it was bad. I don’t think he was going for either. What it did do was cause my entire body, including my pussy, to tense up. As if on cue, I felt Chad let loose inside me, as he roared out his release. Warmth spread throughout me as he absolutely flooded me. When he was fully spent, he removed himself, stumbling back and collapsing on a desk chair, his cock already deflating as I rolled onto my back. The vibrant frat boy that had just done his best to fuck me to within an inch of my life looked like he’d just fought a war. I looked around for something to clean myself up well enough to make the pilgrimage back to my dorm. I finally settled on a stack of napkins on his desk, next to a pizza box. I set about straightening myself out well enough to not look completely suspicious walking across campus before turning to Chad to say goodnight, only to find him passed out in his desk chair.

I made my way out of the frat house easily, though I did feel like I was walking a bit bowlegged. Outside, I ran into a girl I recognized from my hall at the dorm, leaning against a pillar and looking dead tired. She’d clearly had more of a night than I had. I asked if she needed help back to her room, and together, we hobbled our way back home, chatting the entire way. All these years later, Amy and I are still great friends. True friendships are forged on the walk of shame.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9f48ru/college_starts_with_a_bang_fm