The Diary: I Have a Boyfriend
By L.H. Leroux
My name is Jessie, and I am going to share with you my most
intimate secrets by letting you read my diary.
This would be the sort of thing that most girls share with their best friend,
but I don’t have anyone close. I’m a
freshman at a regional
I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I’m extremely shy, the type that would pass you by, and you wouldn’t even see me. I have brown hair, what I consider mousy brown, hanging a bit below my collar. My eyes are hazel, my skin fair. And my body is something that boys don’t gawk at, even if they could see it. I dress very conservatively. I’m an excellent student; learning comes easy to me so I devote all of my time and energies to school. That is where I met Steven. He’s a freshman also, living on the nearby Army base. We had one class together at the beginning of school and were thrown together as lab partners. He’s as smart as I am so we hit if off immediately. We’ve been study partners since that time, almost a year now. That’s all I have to say, the rest is in my diary.
Saturday, February 2
Yippee! I think I have a boyfriend. Now I know you are wondering how come I don’t know for sure. Steven. My boyfriend. I wanted to see it in words. We have been close ever since September. It has always been studying, but we now eat together almost all the time. And we even went to a couple of movies on campus. We had been studying almost all afternoon at the library. Steven finally suggested that we go get a pizza on campus, my stomach growling finally signaling that I needed food. We were walking through the park, taking the short cut when I felt it. It was his hand. It touched mine. I looked over at him, but he was staring straight ahead, even though he was talking to me. I felt his fingers touching mine again and then suddenly he was holding my hand. His hand was damp, as well as mine, but we clung to each other. We continued to talk without saying anything about holding hands. I almost hated it when we had to sit down at the table. I never wanted to let go of his hand. I was nervous when we finished. Would he hold my hand again? He walked me back to my room. Holding my hand all the way.
Sunday, February 3
I barely slept last night. All I could think about was Steven. He’s a gentle boy, not like others that make fun of me. We have been close, so close that it was almost like he was my best girlfriend. And respectful. His father is an officer on the military base near the University, so I’m sure that’s where he got it from. Just like me, my Father a Chief Master Sergeant. Military grow up differently. They either rebel against the rigid authority of military life or they accept it. Steven and I both accepted it. We would never question our elders. I was excited all morning, meeting Steven for lunch and then we were going to study. He also mentioned a movie playing tonight on campus. Would that officially be a date?
Sunday, February 3 - 11 PM
He put his arm around me in the movie. Right after it started. I think we are officially a couple now. I have never felt anything like it, putting my head on his shoulder, feeling so secure with his arm around me. I could have stayed like that for my whole life but unfortunately the movie ended. He walked me back to my dorm, still holding hands. I hoped he would kiss me, but he didn’t, an awkward moment when we said goodnight. It was as though we both wanted to kiss but were too shy.
Thursday, February 21
I went to Steven’s house for the first time. I was surprised. His father is a General. His house is this big, brick, two-story with vines growing up the front as if it were standing there for centuries. No one was home, going into a large den to study, a flat screen TV taking up almost one wall. We had a snack as we poured over the notes for Calculus, the mid-term coming up next week. I guess we were lost in studying because we were both surprised, Steven standing up as if we were doing something wrong. I looked over at the door, his father filling almost the whole doorway. Though Steven and he looked similar in features, it was confined to their faces. For his father is an imposing man, especially all dressed up in his uniform, his chest covered with rows and rows of multi-colored ribbons. And he has a large chest as well as large arms, not a bit of fat on a well-trimmed body. Steven fumbled for words, finally addressing his father as Sir, introducing me to him, though Steven didn’t say the words I wanted to hear. My girlfriend. His father shook my hand, his powerful grip making me weak in the knees. And the way he looked at me, his eyes racing up and down my body, feeling my face get flushed. He didn’t look at me like Steven did. We were getting ready to leave when his father came into the room as if he were watching us and knew. He invited me to dinner on Saturday. Or I should say he asked Steven if he wanted to have his girlfriend come over for dinner on Saturday. At least one of them considered me officially the girlfriend. I accepted without hesitation.
Saturday, February 23
I did something that I never do. I wore a skirt, even though it was freezing cold outside. I’m not sure exactly why. Was I trying to impress Steven or his father? Steven picked me up, barely mentioning my skirt, though he did tell me I was “pretty tonight.” He told me about his father on the way to his house, though no explanation was needed. I already knew about military men. Officers, especially Generals, never had the decisions or commands questioned and that extended to family life. Even more since Steven’s mother was missing from the home, Steven never mentioning why, me never pushing it. Like me, it was hard to talk about missing parents. Even with your boyfriend or girlfriend.
Michael, the General, asked me to call him by his name after I stammered Sir too many times while he took my coat. As he slipped it from my shoulders I could almost hear him inhaling my perfume, his head so close that I could feel his hot breath blowing on my neck. He stood back, his eyes going from my face down to my feet and back up, stopping at legs. “Very beautiful tonight, Jessie. Steven is a lucky boy. He probably doesn’t know how lucky.” He turned and walked away before I could say anything, even if words would have come out of my dry mouth.
The food came out of nowhere; I still don’t know who cooked it. After dinner we went into the den, Michael lighting up a cigar and smoking it as he sipped a brandy. I excused myself to go to the girl’s room. When I came back, Steven was gone, hearing him in the kitchen. By the sound of clinking in a glass, he was making Michael another drink. I was walking by him to sit back down when his voice startled me. It was so loud and demanding. “Your skirt is crooked. Come over here.”
It was as if I were in a daze, walking over to him as he sat forward in the chair. His large hands reached for me, my eyes mesmerized as I moved closer to him, his thick legs sliding between my legs until I was straddling his legs. His hands were on my hips, guiding me forward, my body responding by instinct only. His legs were pushing along my inner thighs. He finally stopped me, his hands moving to the sides of my skirt, twisting it with a powerful jerk until it moved and was straight. It felt so strange, a man dressing me. But he didn’t stop there. His hands slipped under my skirt, disappearing from my sight as I looked down. I was sure I had an orgasm right then when I felt the hot flesh of his hand on my naked inner thigh. My panties grew wet, not just damp. Wet, as if my pussy gushed cum. I could barely stand, but he was almost holding me up, my legs forced apart by his legs between mine, his hands touching my inner thighs, my muscles instinctively trying to close, his legs keeping me spread. He removed his hands as suddenly as they were thrust under my skirt but not before one hand slipped so far under my skirt I shuddered, sure he was going to touch my pussy as it slowly moved up my naked thigh. But he didn’t, suddenly finished with me. Steven was coming back into the room but not before Michael said it to me. “You have lovely legs. Next time wear a shorter skirt.”
I masturbated three times tonight.
Thursday, February 28
Steven kissed me. It wasn’t what I expected. I guess I read too many romance novels, expecting something more. It was nice, his lips soft, but there wasn’t much passion in it. I felt more passion when his father touched me. From then on we kissed goodnight each night, but the passion was still never there. My birthday is Saturday and Steven invited me over for dinner. I was disappointed that it was Steven’s idea to invite me over for dinner, not his fathers.
Saturday, March 1
Happy Birthday to me! I looked into the mirror, even surprising myself. I bought a short skirt this morning after Steven had given me his gift. I opened it up, a black cashmere sweater. I have never felt anything so soft. I bought a plaid skirt to go with it. A school girl skirt. It felt strange, never feeling so feminine before. I couldn’t wait for him to see me. But I wasn’t sure if it was Steven’s or Michael’s expression that I wanted to see.
Michael spun me around as if I were a model when he took my coat, the short skirt pulling out as I spun. He whistled a wolfish whistle, his eyes glued to below my waist. He moved close to me as Steven hung up my coat and whispered into my ear. “Very sexy, Jessie.”
Michael’s eyes stared at me all through dinner, though he didn’t see me watching him. His eyes were glued to my breasts. I never had large breasts, though most never even had a hint how big they were because I buried them beneath layers of baggy clothes. Tonight there was only a soft cashmere sweater and bra that clung to them and cling it did. I felt a strangeness, even sitting up straight in the chair, finally arching my back, sticking them out for his eyes to ogle. Michael was cleaning up the dishes, and I volunteered to help, Michael accepting.
He turned to Steven and asked him, “Steven, would you do me a favor and take a quick ride over to the OC (Officers’ Club) and pick up a bottle of brandy. I’m out, and you know how I like to have a glass of brandy with my cigar after dinner. I phoned ahead, they will give it to you. All you have to do is drive to the back door. It will only take ten minutes. Jessie and I will clean up while you’re gone.” Steven went without a hint of hesitation.
“I helped him pick it out. I made sure it was cashmere. Nothing is too good for you. And I personally like cashmere.”
“You like the way it looks?”
“No, it’s tactile. I like the way it feels. Especially when touching such lovely soft orbs.”
And then he made a request that sounded awfully like an order. I went into the bathroom. I locked the door and sat down on the toilet seat. I knew what would happen if I did as he ordered. But I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. My hands shook as I pulled the sweater over my head, staring into the mirror as my plain, white bra came into view. I reached around back and unhooked the bra and let it slip down my arms, my naked breasts popping into view. My breasts weren’t big, but firm. It was my nipples that surprised me. They were hard, like pencil erasers, sticking out as if Michael had touched them. They swelled as the soft cashmere material slid over them, looking into the mirror again as they disappeared from sight. My nipples stood out hard. You could tell I wasn’t wearing a bra.
Michael was waiting for me, feeling my face flushed as he looked at my breasts. I could almost feel them moving as I walked. No one had ever seen me like this before, wondering what I was doing. What if Steven came back and saw us? What was Michael going to do?
His voice was loud and demanding. I did as he said, turning to face the counter, feeling him move close behind me. I jumped when his hands touched my waist, his voice soft and reassuring in my ear as though it was Steven, not Michael. His hands moved up my side, fighting to stop from laughing as they tickled. My hands clutched into fists at my side as I felt the first touch of his large fingers on the sides of my breasts. It was so soft, almost feathering along the soft sides, feeling my nipples explode. I blushed brightly as his hands slid under my breasts, lifting them up, my nipples scraping painfully against the soft cashmere, the arousal almost hurting. They wanted to be touched. His hands became more urgent, his grip on my young, firm flesh harder. I could feel the blood rushing to the tips. I looked down, seeing his hands caressing my breasts as if it were happening to someone else.
I almost came when his fingers touched my nipples, slowly circling each one, feeling them stiffen to hard points, roused by his touch. His fingers pinched them, harder, pulling them, feeling them stretch. I couldn’t believe the pleasure between my legs from the fingers that teased my nipples. It felt like hours as he played with them, forgetting all about Steven.
“I love youthful, firm breasts, Jessie. Do you like them played with?”
I couldn’t have said anything if words could have come out of my parched mouth. I was just barely breathing. No one had ever touched my breasts before. And now it was my boyfriend’s father, not my boyfriend. And all I could do was hold the counter tightly until my knuckles turned white and think of masturbating as soon as I got back to my room.
He wasn’t finished. Though he might love the feel of cashmere beneath his fingers, that didn’t stop him from slipping his hot hands underneath the sweater. I arched my back, pushing back my ass until I felt him behind me, his hands rolling my naked nipples as my breathing became rapid and shallow. I felt his cock, my ass pushed up against it. It felt huge, like a babies arm. Would Steven have a cock like that? the thought racing through my head? I was technically a virgin, though I didn’t have a hymen. His fingers were insistent, sending illicit pleasure through my nipples, fondled against my will. Or was it a deep desire that I tried to quell?
I almost came when he nuzzled my neck, his tongue slipping into my ear, rolling around in the tight hole as his fingers continued their fondling. His fingers gripped my nipples tight, feeling like they were trapped in a powerful vise, but all I could do was arch my back and stick them out as he yanked the hardened flesh out of shape. I jumped when the door shut, but Michael took his time, slipping his hand out of my sweater slowly.
“Next time I’ll see them naked and suck them.” Michael moved away from me but not before he took my hand and placed it against the front of his pants. My fingers instinctively curled around the thick shaft as if I had done this a million times. He pulled away as Steven entered the room.
“You okay?” He asked me as he kissed me.
I knew that my face was flushed, and I was almost ashamed that my nipples stood out so provocatively. He looked at them but not like his father looked at them. I kissed him back. “I missed you.” I pressed up against him, just like his father had done to me. For the first time, I felt him. His cock. It wasn’t as big as his fathers, but I had this desire to reach down and touch it as I did to Michael’s. But I didn’t.
We watched a DVD, Michael leaving us alone after he had his cigar. Michael caught me looking at his crotch, his hand reaching down to touch himself unashamedly. Steven kissed me while watching the movie, a chick-flick that he had picked out for me. I wanted so much for him to touch my breasts, but he was a gentleman all night long.
Friday, March 7
I came almost every night, my fingers teasing my nipples as Michael had done to me, though I didn’t pinch them as hard. But it still made me cum over and over.
Finals are over, Steven and I spending almost the whole week together at his house studying. I insisted, saying that it was less distracting at his house, though that wasn’t true. I anxiously awaited Michael coming home each day, but ended up going home disappointed. Until today. We were just getting ready to leave, Steven to drive me back to the dorm when he walked in. He surprised me, almost bumping into him. He looked at me, my pussy growing wet as soon as his eyes stared at my half-naked legs. In spite of the cold, I had begun to wear skirts. Short skirts. Even Steven didn’t fail to notice, his eyes looking down at my legs when my skirt rode up too high. And my eyes never failed to spot the growing erection in Steven’s pants when he did. I had two men lusting after me after a life of none.
“Leaving already,” Michael stated to Steven. “Why don’t the two of you stay for dinner? Pizza, my treat.”
“Is that okay, Jessie?”
I could barely babble yes to Steven, already wondering how Michael would plan to get rid of Steven for a short time. His mind was quicker than mine.
“If you pick up the pizza, I’ll make the salads. We have to have something nutritious. Jessie has that lovely figure she has to keep to keep you interested.”
“Want to come along, Jessie?”
I already had my coat on, trying to think of a way to say no when Michael’s voice boomed loudly.
“You want me to make the salad by myself. I need the help of a good woman.”
He took my coat before Steven could protest, if he would have. But Steven, like me, obeyed without question. And Michael counted on that. I kissed Steven goodbye as if he were leaving for the night, not sure why. Maybe to make Michael jealous. Maybe to feel his cock against me. Was I becoming feminine? Using my girlish charm to lure two men to me. I never thought of doing such a thing in the past.
The door slammed shut, the car starting outside. I went into the kitchen, Michael following me. I could almost feel his eyes staring at me, trying hard to keep my ass from swaying from side to side as if I were teasing him. I went to the refrigerator, Michael pulling out the vegetable tray to reveal a large salad already made in a big plastic bowl. His hand slipped around my waist as he led me to the den, the was salad left on the table next to the cutting board, a knife placed on it, Michael sprinkling tiny bits of lettuce on the board. Michael had planned far in advance. What else had he planned?
He sat down in the chair leaving me standing before him, his hands on my hips. He lowered me down on his lap, my eyes on the bulge in his pants, feeling it pressed up against my ass as I settled on his lap. I felt so comfortable on his lap as if I belonged there. He asked me if Steven kissed me yet. I answered yes but told him how it didn’t spark any passion in me. His fingers circled my lips, Michael telling me how he would teach me and I could teach Steven. His finger entered my mouth, running over my teeth and tongue. I tightened my lips on his finger, and he began to push it in and out. I knew how it must look. As if he was fucking his cock in my mouth. His cock jerked beneath me, it affecting me in the same way. His hand lifted my head up and turned it toward him. He told me to open my mouth, his lips covering mine. I was surprised that his lips were as soft, his kiss almost gentle. My mouth was open, and then I felt it, his tongue slipping between my lips and entering my mouth. My tongue met his, dancing against it as his hands tightened around me, pulling me closer to him. His kiss became more demanding, his lips crushing mine. All the while his tongue explored my mouth, over my teeth and gums, finally pushing deep into my mouth so that I almost choked. I couldn’t believe a tongue could move that far. He never broke the kiss, my nose flaring as I tried to breathe, my heart racing from the excitement. He turned me sideways toward him, our lips never parting. His hand slid up my side, his large hand encircling one of my breasts, his fingers tightening on it until I felt the blood rushing to the tip, pounding hard. I wished I hadn’t worn a bra.
I found my hips moving without me realizing it, sliding my ass back and forth over his lap, his hard cock jerking and shuddering beneath me. I filled my lungs with air but I couldn’t catch my breath, my breathing ragged and uneven. It made my breasts heave up and down, something that Michael didn’t fail to notice. My arms went limp as Michael pulled my sweater up over my head, seeing dark for a second before he threw it on the floor. His eyes stared at my heaving bosom, my chest pink in shame, exposed to him. His hands slipped down my back, sending goose bumps through my body. He was an expert with my bra, unhooking it with a deft motion, his hands pushing the shoulder straps down. My arms moved up to cover my naked breasts in reflex, but his hands pushed them away like a pesky fly. They hung down at my side as one hand cupped my naked breast, my breathing stopped as his head moved down, his mouth already open. I wished I could have thrust my hand under my skirt when I felt his hot, wet lips encircle my nipple, dragging it deep into his mouth, all the while his tongue lashed at it. I was sure I wet my panties at that moment, my naked breast fondled by a demanding hand and mouth. For five minutes I endured the pleasure of the constant fondling of my nipples. He knew exactly what to do to me, unable to do anything but squirm erotically on the growing erection beneath my ass.
He finally stopped. I looked down to see my breasts wet with his saliva, my nipples so big that they stuck out over an inch, my white breasts covered with red marks where his hands had squeezed them too tight. He stood me back up, feeling strange to be standing in front of a man, stripped naked to my waist as he stared at me. He took my hand, pushing it down into his lap.
“See what you do to me. You do that to Steven also.”
My fingers curled around the thick shaft, my fingers moving up the shaft until I felt the thick head, my fingers trying to outline it in his pants. I could only imagine what it looked like in my head. He stood up, kissing me again, a knee between my thighs forcing me to spread my legs, his upper body pushed up against my naked breasts. He moved his chest from side to side, feeling the multitude of sharp ribbons rubbing hard against my naked breasts, especially my swollen nipples. They hurt, but his hands held me tightly against him, though he did force me to move my hips from side to side against his cock. And later that night when I was home in bed masturbating, the pain from the ribbons were more pleasure and my pussy was drenched from the hard cock pushed against it as he masturbated against me. He left me alone, going upstairs to change his clothes, just in time, my sweater slipping over my head as the front door opened.
Michael left us alone after dinner. We were watching a DVD, a love story though it did have more sex in it than romance. The lights were dimmed, though the large TV did give off a lot of light. I was curled in Steven’s arms, reaching up with my hand to turn his head toward me just at the end of the sex scene. I kissed him, feeling him respond. I noticed the bulge in his pants, the movie making him excited, my pussy still drenched from what Michael had done to me. My tongue slipped into Steven’s mouth, my breathing stopped to see if he would think I was being too bold. Surprised, his tongue responded, his kiss becoming more demanding as we French kissed for the first time. And it wasn’t the last time tonight. Steven kissed me again and again, each time after a sexy scene, each time he French kissed me, leaving me panting for more. The movie was almost over, the girl in bed with two men at once. I could almost see Steven’s cock jerking in his pants, wishing he was like Michael and would push my hand down onto his throbbing member. Instead I took one of his hands and placed it on my breast. He stared at me for a long moment, not sure if it were surprise or disgust on his face. But then he kissed me, his tongue more demanding. As well as his hand. He grabbed my breast, fondling it with an inexperienced touch, but my nipple never failed to respond. I was disappointed when the movie ended, wishing I could have enough nerve to touched his cock.
He drove me back to the dorm, kissing me outside, his hand exploring my other breast with more confidence. I moved my hips, sliding my pussy back and forth against his cock. I felt him shudder, sure that I had made him cum. I could almost smell it in the air.
Week of March 10
We are more like boyfriend-girlfriend now, making out until we are both panting. His hands explored my breasts, my hands at my side as he worked them over until my nipples ached. Thursday night we were at his house, Michael not home, out of the state until tomorrow. We were watching a movie; really it was just playing on the TV. Steven and I making out. Yes, I was making out with a boy! Before long we were lying on the couch, on our sides facing each other. I felt his hands fumbling with my bra, letting him do it until I felt the pressure released. His hand moved under my sweater, wearing Michael’s favorite cashmere sweater. I almost came when his fingers moved the bra out of the way and his hands touched my naked breasts. I pushed my pussy into his cock as his hands found my nipples and rubbed them to erection. I came that night, his cock pushing against me driving the orgasm from my body. It was the first time that anyone but me had made me cum. Even after I came, I continued to rub my pussy against his cock. This time I knew it. I had made him cum, Steven holding me tightly against him as he rubbed his cock against me as he masturbated, moaning softly as he came. He was a bit humiliated as he excused himself to go to the bathroom, sure that he was cleaning up the wet cum in his shorts. I never felt as proud of myself as I did that night. I masturbated and came three times that night in my dorm, barely sleeping at all. Each time I came, it was either Steven or Michael in my head as if did.
Friday, March 14
We were studying at Steven’s house. Michael was home, but I didn’t see him. Steven was watching the end of the movie as I got up to go to the bathroom. As I walked down the hallway, I could see the bathroom door closed; the light shining beneath it. I walked slowly, hoping that Michael would come out soon. I stood outside the door for a moment before I heard the doorknob turning. Michael came out, surprised to find me standing there.
“That’s convenient; I don’t have to look for you.”
He pushed me against the wall, his hand holding something. He held it in front of my face. It was a condom. A used one, the reservoir filled with a white, milky substance.
“I just masturbated for you, Jessie. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
I don’t know why I did it. Yes I do. Michael could control me with just his voice. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue as I watched him move the condom up over my outstretched tongue. The reservoir was filled like a small balloon. He tipped it down, squeezing the other end as I watched the milky cum slide slowly down the condom and begin to drip off the end. It hung in a clump, the ropey fluid stretching down until I felt the first thick clump of cum fall on my tongue. It felt like it was burning, the cum still hot from his body. I couldn’t believe all the cum that filled my mouth, the thick, salty crème permeating every crevice in my mouth. When I thought there was none left, he reversed the condom, slipping the wet inside over my tongue like it was a cock. I sucked it into my mouth, submissively holding all of his cum in my mouth. It tasted terrible, almost making me gag it was so thick. But it also made me aroused, forced to drink his cum as he stood and watched my discomfort. He pulled the wet condom from my mouth, my cheeks still bulging from the cum in my mouth. I did as he said, swallowing it, choking twice as the thick cum slid slowly down into my gullet. He left me in the hallway. I went back to Steven. Unfortunately he wanted to make out. I was sure that he could taste his father’s cum when he French kissed me.
Tuesday, March 18
I got a strange phone call. It was from the General’s Aide inviting me to dinner tonight. I accepted even though I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew that Steven was out of town for two days. He didn’t tell me where, though I suspected it had something to do with his mother. I was nervous as I raced around all afternoon. I took a shower as one eye kept looking at the clock. Michael was sending a car to pick me up. I was so nervous as I got into the car. A young Private was driving, his eyes looking into the rearview mirror catching a glimpse of me. My coat had parted and my short skirt left a lot of leg showing. I didn’t make any move to cover my legs. I was beginning to enjoy being a girl. A desired girl. He asked me how I knew the General. I told him that Steven his son was my boyfriend. I think he was trying to figure out if I was the General’s mistress. I liked that. People, men began to notice me.
Michael was waiting with the door open as the car pulled up. The Private opened the door for me, not so much a gentlemen, more he wanted to see my legs. Or between them. I got out of the car awkwardly, showing him more than I should have. I’m sure he could see up under my skirt. I smiled to myself; I felt naughty.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t accept.”
He took my coat, standing so close that he was almost touching me. I wondered whether we would even get to dinner. His eyes feasted on the new cashmere sweater I was wearing, spending the last of my money for it. I’m sure that he didn’t miss that I wasn’t wearing a bra. To make sure I rubbed my nipples in the darkness of the back seat of the car before it pulled up in front of the house. My skirt was shorter than the last. And I was wearing high heels, the first time in about five years. I tried to walk on them naturally, but it was hard. I was afraid of what he was going to make me do. Or do to me. “I was afraid to come.” As soon as the words came out my mouth, I knew it sounded bad. As if I was afraid of having an orgasm. “That’s not what I meant,” I stammered.
He kissed me, the door closing at the same time, cut off from the probing eyes of the world. He pushed me against the door, his knee pushing between my legs until I relented, spreading them submissively his tongue searching deep into my mouth. His hands fondled my cashmere-covered breasts, his hand insistent as they pinched and prodded my growing nipples. He took my breath away with his kiss, my hands going around his waist and holding him against me as I do with Steven. My legs spread wider until I felt it, his hard, demanding cock jerking against my pussy. He began to grind against me as if he were fucking me. Would he take my innocence from me tonight? I knew that before I left, he would have taught me so much more. Sexually.
It was long minutes before he broke off the kiss, my lungs trying to fill with precious air. “I hope you’re not hungry for food. I plan to feed something else to you.”
I followed him like a puppy. We didn’t go into the den, but the living room instead. It was more formal, almost naughtier for what he was going to do to me. He didn’t kiss me again, but pulled my sweater over my head and threw it on the sofa. I was standing bare breasted in front of him, my hard nipples sticking out so far that it looked as though they were trying to reach his fingers. His large hands encircled them with a familiarity, the tips springing to life as his calloused fingers raced over them. Even when he pinched too tight and yanked them out, I stood firm, the delicious pain in my stretched nipple flesh racing between my legs to soak my panties. His mouth was even more demanding, his teeth capturing one of my nipples, grinding back and forth over it, feeling like a knife slicing through it. The pain mixed with the pleasure, my legs barely able to keep me up.
He pulled away from me, looking at my glistening breasts from his spit, teeth marks encircling one of my swollen nipples. His hands moved to my shoulders, feeling him begin to press down on them. I knew what he wanted. I gently kneeled on the floor in front of him, looking up to see his cock outlined on the front of his pants only inches from my face.
“Touch it,” his voice commanding me to do his sexual bidding.
My hands went to the front of his pants, my tiny fingers outlining the thick shaft that threatened to tear from his pants. I pinched it, but it felt like steel, pushing up with my fingers, surprised that it was so long. It went up almost to his waist where I felt it thicken to a dome. I had seen pictures of cocks, but not erect ones. And this one was definitely erect. I licked my lips, getting my lips wet subconsciously. I knew that I would have to take it in my mouth; there was no other reason to be on my knees. He didn’t want my hand, but my mouth. It was bad enough when he emptied his condom in my mouth. What would it be like when his cock spewed his cum directly into my mouth? I followed his instructions, and they were detailed and explicit. My hands slid his zipper down, the noise breaking the silence of the room. I unbuckled his belt and undid the top button, pulling his pants back. He was wearing boxers, and his cock strained to get out. I reached in, touching the hot flesh of a hard cock for the first time. I pulled back, surprised that it was so hot, but Michael encouraged me back. My hands curled around the thick shaft, my eyes trying to catch a glimpse of it. I didn’t want to, but I released it so I could pull his boxers down his legs. He had thick, muscles thighs, covered with black hair. But my eyes were on his erection, the thick throbbing cock bobbing so hard that it almost touched my lips. It was heavily veined, dark blue veins running up the side to disappear when it got to the almost purple dome. A thick ridge around it made it look more like a helmet. I blushed as I saw Michael looking down at me.
I kissed it, just like Michael ordered me to. My lips pursed as they moved close to the tip, covered with the shiny cum that had already leaked from its tip. My tongue licked all over the head, lapping up his slick cum like a kitten with a bowl of milk, filling my mouth with the familiar taste of his salty cum.
“Open wide,” Michael taking hold of his cock, rubbing it all over my lips as he tilted my head back until I was looking into his eyes. He wanted to see my face as his cock entered my virgin mouth. I opened wide, surprised that the head of his cock barely fit in my lips.
“Lick the head, Jessie,” Michael encouraged me. It jerked in my mouth when my tongue raced around the thick helmet, finding the sensitive area just beneath the rim as though I had sucked a thousand cocks before. “It likes that, Jessie.”
I felt the rubbery head of his cock in my mouth, my lips stretched tightly around it until they tugged beneath the rim, trapping it. My tongue went to work on it as if I knew what I was doing, his jerking cock making it as though I was doing the right thing. I began to suck on it, feeling spit dribbling down my chin. My mouth was filled with the salty taste of cum, sure that he had already cum. Michael smiled down at me, his hands gentle as they pushed the hair from my forehead, only mumbled sounds coming from my stuffed mouth. I was trying to breathe, my nose flaring as I sucked in air through my nose to fill my starving lungs.
My head moved up and down, as the slippery, wet cock began to slide easier between my stretched lips, trying to stop the gurgling sound that came from my mouth as I began to suck his cock. Yes, I said it. I was sucking his cock. I was kneeling half naked in front of Steven’s father, his thick cock in my mouth, and I was sucking him with all my inexperienced, but youthful, exuberance. His hands slid down my chest until they found my nipples, tugging and pulling on them until he aroused them to hardened tips. All the while I was taking more and more of his cock in my mouth, not believing that four inches of it was still outside my lips even though the thick head was pushing against my tonsils. I gagged once and almost swallowed the head of his cock by mistake when my throat opened up.
His hips began to move, rhythmically thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth as if it were my pussy. Wishing it was his cock taking my virginity between my legs, not my mouth. My hand reached out instinctively to feel his balls, the prickly hair tickling the palm of my hand. I squeezed until I felt the twin balls inside, my hands following them around as they moved mysteriously. I heard Michael moaning, knowing that my mouth and hand were having an affect on him. I wondered where all his cum would go when he came in my mouth, his cock already filling every nook and cranny in my mouth. His hands left my breasts and stroked my head, guiding it up and down in rhythm with his thrusting hips.
It hit me hard; Michael’s hand getting tighter as he pulled me onto his throbbing cock like one would put a sock on their foot. It pushed to the back of my mouth and then I was sure that it grew bigger, my lips aching as they stretched to accommodate the thick shaft. Michael bucked as he came, trying to get away when a jet of hot cum flew out the end of his cock and shot directly into my throat as I choked and gagged. But he held me tight, my mouth filling as he shot a second load of cum that made my cheeks bow out from the abundant crème that filled my mouth. I felt it leaking from my stretched lips, the thick cum slowly running down my chin, the fluid still hot from his balls. And my hands milked his balls of his cum instinctively. He shot one more time before his hands relaxed on my head. As he pulled his cock out of my mouth, he left a trail of thick cum on my lips. His finger scooped up the cum on my chin and pushed it back into my mouth. He lifted my head back, his hand caressing my outstretched throat.
“Swallow it. Show me how much you like drinking my cum.” He massaged my throat as I struggled to swallow the thick cum, feeling it sliding down into my stomach slowly. It took me a couple of minutes until I was finished, my stomach heavy with his cum. He helped me up like a gentlemen, as if I was kneeling in prayer, not sucking his cock. We went in for dinner, Michael not letting me put my sweater back on, feeling embarrassed each time he looked at me and my naked breasts. I had to be careful not to spill anything, afraid of burning my breasts. And my nipples stayed erect all through dinner.
Michael had his brandy and cigar in the den. I was kneeling at his chair like a servant girl as he fed his cock into my mouth again. This time he guided my head, taking his time, making me suck his cock for over half an hour. His cock never left my mouth, struggling to breathe at the same time I sucked his cock with enthusiasm. By the time he finished his cigar, my tongue was tired, but Michael was just getting going. My hands gripped the side of the chair as he pulled my face down over his cock until I felt the head of his cock tickling my tonsils. I gagged, but Michael’s hands became more insistent. Before I knew what was happening, I choked and gagged, the thick head of his cock breaching the tightness of my throat. I struggled to pull back, but Michael was stronger, gurgling and babbling incoherently as his cock filled my throat with his thick flesh. I have never felt anything like it. It was like a giant snake moving down into my stomach. I choked and gagged, but Michael only pumped his cock in and out of my throat. I didn’t taste his cum that time for he pumped it directly into my stomach, his cock swelling in my throat as my muscles rippled up and down the shaft. He finally pulled his cock from my throat, my throat rubbed raw. His cock didn’t leave my mouth until my tongue licked every inch of his softening cock.
I came back to my dorm that night, frustrated and horny, masturbating to the visions in my head and the taste of his cum in my mouth. I didn’t even brush my teeth until tonight, wanting the taste of his cum to remind me what he had me do.
I was glad that Steven finally came home. We rubbed up against each other as we made out on the couch, Michael upstairs making it naughtier. Steven’s fingers had become more skilled at arousing my nipples, his cock finding just the right place to rub up against my pussy until we both exploded. I wanted so badly to reach down and take his wet cock from his pants and lick it clean, but I controlled my emotions. I wasn’t sure who would take my virginity from me, Steven or Michael. And I wasn’t sure that I cared either way.
To Be Continued