Gabe and I hooked up the first weekend of spring semester during my junior year of college (see previous post). I was in a particularly wild phase, and that semester was probably the wildest part of the phase. The night… I mean morning we had together was very good – and surprisingly, we were completely sober. I figured maybe we may do it again considering we were both very attracted to each other. Turns out, he wasn’t into random hook ups, and I wasn’t exactly ready for a relationship. Things got pretty awkward between us for the rest of the semester, and he lived right across the hall which didn’t help the situation.
Fast forward almost 7 months to the very beginning of senior year. It’s our first weekend back on campus and I’m feeling weird about things. Most of my friends graduated, including this guy who I unfortunately was madly in love with (see my other posts). I never actually admitted my feelings to anyone. Side note, his girlfriend was in my year and she didn’t like him being friends with any girls, especially me. She was still starting drama senior year with him gone (though he would come back for the occasional visit). Anyway, this story isn’t about him but the point is I felt weird that he was gone and so were many of my friends. So many people were upset about graduating, but I was so excited to be done with a full-time education after that year and had built up senior year in my mind to be an epic party. However, this first weekend back felt different and I just missed my friends.
Despite my mixed feelings towards senior year, I was still going out for our first Friday back on campus with some of my good friends who had not graduated. We went our usual college bar right off campus after some pregame drinks in our apartment. I still think the last fuck I ever gave about reputation lingers in the stale smoke filling that windowless establishment to this day. It mingles there with the last bit of my dignity, trying to hide from the spilled Fireball and wasted cocaine the surely remains caked into the cracks on the bathroom floor.
My friends found our way to the bar tipsy at about 12:30am. Fashionably late for everything as usual. I wore a spaghetti strapped black studded mini dress that hugged my body just right paired with very high black wedge peep-toe booties. I was killing it and I knew it, but most of the hot guys were off the menu – graduated, with their girlfriends, etc. My hot friend who I would hook up with on occasion wasn’t even around for our first weekend thanks to his brother’s wedding. How rude. Couldn’t he have chosen a better wedding date? Despite all this, the music was good and the drinks were flowing. I pulled my usual Houdini act and disappeared most of the night to chat up the guys who would buy me drinks despite never getting with me. The victim of the night was way too nice. This guy should have seen the red flags from me from a mile away. This night he bought me a couple drinks and a shot before I walked away drunk so I could reappear to my friends. When I found them, they were decently drunk and didn’t even ask where I was. They were used to this.
Next thing I knew, a song came on that for some reason had become part of the class theme. A friend grabbed my arm and pulled me to this crowded wooden platform which was a poor excuse for a dance floor. The bar was hot and the air was heavy – late August heat, and was there air conditioning in that place? Couldn’t tell you, but I’m sure I never felt it. Anyway, this “dance floor” was packed as my friends and I danced close together, one arm in the air, the other holding our drinks. I’m not sure how we managed not to spill our drinks everywhere, because you couldn’t move without bumping into at least 3 other people. This is how I moved a fraction of an inch back and bumped straight into First Weekend Gabe. I had no idea he had been right next to me this whole time. When I realized, it was him, we made that drunken eye contact you know is a wordless way hitting on each other. Basically, I wasn’t surprised when he texted me an hour later asking where I was living that year.
I was actually staying in my friend’s apartment that night – I can’t even explain why since I don’t even know. I tried to explain this to drunk Gabe, but drunk me didn’t get the point across so I told him where I was (not sure why we didn’t go to his place which was very close). He came over and my friends who lived there were both asleep at this point. I was staying on their couch, which was not particularly comfortable, nor was it long enough to accommodate someone who is 6’3 like Gabe.
How things started is a little hazy, but I remember us hooking up on the couch and it being horribly uncomfortable, so we moved to the floor. Then, we got adventurous. My mischievous side came out, and I suggested moving things to the kitchen table. He bent me over the table for a bit before deciding to pick me up and sit me on the kitchen counter near the sink and pound while standing on the floor facing me. In our drunken state, somehow I ended up sliding into the kitchen sink and barely catching myself before my ass went all the way in. We ended up pausing here and laughing at the sloppy mess this turned into, and during this pause, I heard the noise of a door open and close. I’m 100% sure my friend definitely caught us having sex in the kitchen but was blacked out and didn’t remember any of it. She would have definitely brought that up.
The door incident, however, lead us to the final place of sexual activity for the night – the bathroom. We made our way down the hall to the bathroom and locked the door before going at it every which way we could. This guy really was lasting forever, much longer than the standard guy’s 2-minute drill. I paused the action and got on my knees on the hard bathroom floor to get him as wet as possible before he bent me over the sink for a bit. Then, we laid on the cold, hard floor. Neither of these positions were doing it due to lack of comfort and the coldness of the ground., but eventually I felt myself getting close to climax. A few minutes later, the extra wetness from my orgasm helped put him over the edge too. At least the sink nearby made for easy cleanup. To this day my friends like to say I had sex in more places of their apartment than they did. It’s true.
Even though neither of my friends recall interrupting us in the kitchen, my more sober (read: not blacked out) friend did remember trying to open the bathroom door in the middle of the night and it was locked. She paused for a minute and figured out what was going down in there before going back to bed. There was a new rule established the next day – no more sex in the bathroom. It’s a one bathroom apartment, after all… But no one was mad at me, it’s another thing we laugh about to this day. There was one more semester left of school, and one more first weekend left in college but I didn’t end up getting with Gabe. We actually never hooked up again, and he’s now married to the girl he started dating the weekend we graduated.
Author: corporatebarbie___
My adventures with “First Weekend Gabe” – Part 1 [MF]
*** if you want to skip the background, the fun stuff is labeled ***
**Background:**
I was a junior in college in this story, and I was only a few months out of an abusive relationship. It was everyone’s first weekend back to campus after my school’s unusually long winter break (they have a short winter term in January I was there for). This means it was already the first week of February, and Super Bowl weekend. Since it’s the first weekend with everyone back and my team is playing in the Super Bowl, by Friday I am in rare form. I won’t tell you who my team is because that would give away the year, but I can tell you they were playing the Patriots. That doesn’t help, I know.
**Setup:**
By the time my final class of the week ended, I had long since checked out of school mode and checked into weekend mode. I went straight to the liquor store to spend money I didn’t have on some things to make celebratory drinks with my 4 roommates. I splurged and bought something way out of my budget – Café Patron and Bailey’s. The plan was to make the “Mini Guinness” shot in the Starbucks mini cups we stole from the campus Starbucks. They were about a shot, shot and a half, right? Nope, no they weren’t. They were about 3 shots when filled to capacity, we would later learn (the hard way).
Celebrations started early with the guys in the apartment across the hall. Since I had only recently moved into that apartment (long story), I had only met some of them a couple of times, including Gabe. After two solo cups of cherry vodka and sprite, and lots of football talk with the boys, it was time for the girls to go back across the hall and get ready. Soon as we were ready, we went to the kitchen for shots. Three of us took two of the Mini Guinness shots each, but one of my roommates couldn’t finish her second, so of course I took the rest. Next stop was back with the boys to reconvene before our walk to the bar. The guys were all doing a shot of 100 proof Captain, but all the girls opted out. Then they started teasing us and said we are not leaving until one of us does a shot. The other girls said no, but I thought about it for a second…challenge accepted! At this point my memory goes hazy, but I was informed that Gabe and I were off flirting in a corner, and I had given him my number.
We walk to the bar and I have a vague recollection of not being allowed in. I later found out I couldn’t find my ID… but it was in my hand. A friend who also was one of my roommates had put me in my bed, so I don’t know when I moved or why, but I woke up on the floor, face down with the contents of my wristlet around me. The next day, I felt like I had been beat up. The hangover, some bruises (potentially from falling out of my own bed?), and pure exhaustion from hardly getting sleep, had me in no condition to go out. But, when I finally charged my phone and checked my messages, this is what I saw:
(number with no name attached): Hey what are you up to
Me: xhf7ht48 (some nonsense of this nature)
It was Gabe, and I couldn’t even recall exchanging numbers. He asked if I was going to the party a friend was throwing that night, and I responded “absolutely not. Not with this hangover.” We talked about a combined pregame again next weekend for a little bit, and then I fell asleep around 10pm. Around 1:30, I woke up out of nowhere, and checked my phone.
Gabe: How are you feeling?
I was kind of upset over the state I had gotten into the night before, nothing major, but I think he sensed from conversation I was a bit down. He said he had a worse story of a night out gone wrong, and asked if I wanted to come over and talk and he would tell me about it. We talked for an hour or so on the couch, then went into his room and talked in there. Eventually, he kissed me, and we made out for a bit, but nothing else. I expected him to be up under my clothes in seconds, but he was not. He was a very good kisser – he’s the kind of guy that doesn’t shy away from tongue, but also isn’t trying to eat your face off. His hands went through my hair, behind my head, and ran up and down my back and arms. When he pulled back, it was late, and he asked if I wanted to sleep there. Even though my apartment was across the hall, I chose to stay with him.
**Fun:**
We both randomly woke up early. I checked my phone – 6:10 am. I had only been asleep 3 hours at most, and I had no idea Gabe had woken up too. I put my phone back down on his nightstand, and rolled back over to see him propped up on his side. Our eyes locked for a second, and without saying a word, he went in and kissed me like he had just a few hours before. This time, though, his hands eventually wandered. My sweatshirt and t-shirt I was sleeping in both came off together, and I pulled his t-shirt over his head. His hands were all over me, and there was something so raw and intense about the way he kissed my lips, down my neck, to my nipples. This guy knew what he was doing. The lack of words spoken added to the intensity and heat of the situation. – we followed each other’s movements and knew without speaking what we were after.
Eventually we were both fully naked in his bed without speaking a single word. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his hardness against me. I could feel that he was bigger than average, but I didn’t even get to see how big before feeling him at my entrance. He slowly started to push inside, and he was big enough that it wasn’t sliding right in. I wrapped my legs and arms around his body tighter, pulling him the rest of the way in all in one motion. He gave a few slower thrusts before going animalistic on me and pumping wildly. I adjusted my legs a little, and this altered the angle just enough that I could feel myself beginning to cum in a couple minutes. The wave of pleasure went through my body silently. I’m sure he felt it in my body, and the extra wetness down there seemed to be sending him wild. He got extra grabby and animal like, and within another minute he pulled out and pumped multiple ropes of cum all over my body. He got up quickly to hand me the rest of the tissues in the box on his desk so I could clean up and get dressed. Finally, I spoke. I told him I had to start getting ready to go home and watch the Super Bowl with my family since our team (his team too) was playing. He responded, “text you later,” and gave me a kiss before leaving.
I figured we would hook up again, since we both seemed to enjoy it, and were clearly attracted to one another. However, I would have never guessed that it wouldn’t happen again until the first weekend of the following semester – the first weekend of our senior year.
The one that got away – an unexpected sequel [MF]
**Sorry everyone – this is going to be long! The fun stuff is labeled at the bottom if you want to skip the rest.**
If you’re paranoid like me, you know that feeling you get when you hear a loud noise at night – especially if you’re home alone. That’s the feeling I got seeing his name pop up on the screen of my iPhone at 4am after getting off a marathon call with a close friend , except the usual terror accompanying the sudden rush of adrenaline was absent.aThe text came through at 12:50am, and it was Friday night. He was undoubtedly drunk – but why me? why now? Our only communication for years had been the annual “happy birthday” and occasional “congratulations” followed by 2-3 more mundane messages. We hadn’t seen each other or spoken consistently in 7 years, and we hadn’t seen each other regularly in 9. I squinted to be sure , unable to believe that my mind wasn’t playing a sick joke on me at this unpleasant hour of the morning. I opened the message, and the proof was right there in the blue and white iMessage text. “I thought of (our major) and it made me think of you. I miss you.” It was too late..too early..too far into a life that didn’t really include him to process that message at the moment. I didn’t reply and tried to go to bed, but sleep didn’t come easy that night despite how tired I truly was.
The one who got away [MF]
*I feel like this story needs some explanation before I post it.. just skip this paragraph if you don’t care. I know it isn’t written in a traditional story format with a whole background and plot, but this post was never supposed to be seen. I was madly in love with this guy who had a girlfriend back in my junior year of college. Long story .. but we did end up hooking up the day of our last final (his last ever, my last of jr. year). I wrote this shortly after having a bit of a meltdown on his graduation day. I was a sobbing mess and wrote this with a pen and paper, folded the paper up, and put it in the back flap of a notebook. I didn’t look at again until a couple months ago, when I found it, read it , then chose to type it out. These events happened in 2012. Back in 2018, I had a different account I used to post from (all posts are deleted) and I posted the story about this same event in more of a traditional story format. That version of the story was easier to comprehend and entertaining. When I read the version below it almost felt invasive, like I shouldn’t be reading it, even though it was my own personal experience. I felt like I was a completely different person. Anyway… here it is. I know it’s kind of hard to understand without context, so if. you have questions.. just ask.* ***Also.. NO I WILL NOT SEND PICS! DON’T ASK.***