Where it happened: His house.
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
I think, to understand my story, you first have to understand
the people in it. To introduce myself, my name is Michelle.
The guy in my story is named Wesley, but we’ll call him Wes,
which is what I call him. His sister’s name, she’s also a
major part of the story, is Jenny.
Jenny and I were really good friends, best friends, if you
want to get all technical, but there was one major problem
with our friendship: I had never gotten along with her older
brother, Wes. I think the reason behind our estrangement was
the fact that we were, are, way too alike (very opinionated,
outspoken, etc.) and our personalities just clashed, from the
first moment we met we were arguing. It was a constant thing.
However, we had sparks. I’m talking major ones, and I, the
smarter out of both of us, was fully aware of the fact that we
were like a volcano waiting to erupt.
Well, my nice little prophecy came to a head. Jenny was out
of town, I can’t remember exactly why to this day, but I did
not know she was. We had a prearranged study date, so I walked
over to her house like I always did in this same situation, but
the only one home was Wes (their parents were also mysteriously
absent). I knocked on the door and who should come to the door?
No one but the person I had least expected to confront: Wes
himself. I’ll admit, this guy was probably the best looking one
I’d ever met. He was/is Italian: black hair, olive green eyes,
angular bones, and a physique to die for! At that time, he was
dressed in jeans and a tight white tank top that he knew flattered
him. I, on the other hand, had dressed for a study date: cut-offs
that were short enough to show off way more leg to him than I wanted
to show, and a little blue tank top. I am Asian, which means I have
the whole slanted eye thing and dark coloring going for me.
Anyways, he invited me into the house, I suppose for courtesy’s sake
alone, and had me sit down on the couch before he told me that he
was alone in the house and his sister wasn’t there. That sparked
one of our quarrels, and I was about ready to storm out before he
told me that she was due back soon. I, the fool that I was, believed
him and fell back onto the couch, folding my arms across my chest,
determined not to let him get to me again.
He had been watching some TV show before I came, and apparently had
been curled up in this blanket (for God knows what reason since it
was the summer time) that I now sat on. He reached over and grabbed
the end of it, then jerked it out from under me. I had been sitting
on the middle of it so I went with the blanket when he jerked on it.
As I said before, he had a killer physique and pulled hard enough
that I sort of fell on top of him. We had never even touched before,
so needless to say being on top of him freaked me out and I jumped
off of him and backed away slowly.
He had sprawled against the armrest and was looking at me with this
kind of half-lidded expression in his eyes. I was (and am now ashamed
to admit that I ever did it) cowering against the other armrest, know-
ing in the back of my mind that the long overdue eruption was about
to take place.
It started with him scooting into a sitting position with his back
against the armrest of the couch. I had my feet tucked right against
my backside and I was determined not to move them from that position.
But he, damnable him, reached out slowly with one hand and closed his
fingers around my ankle. I gasped and jerked it out of his grip, but
he just gave me a lazy smile and caught it again. Then, with little
tugs, he brought me over to his side of the couch so I was like in his
lap, which I had never been with a guy before. Then he slid his hands
behind my back and held me up while his mouth slowly lowered to my
own. At first, he just brushed his lips against mine, purposely teasing
me. He did that until I realized he wanted a reaction out of me, so I
wrapped my arms around his neck and twined my fingers into his thick
hair, then I pulled him closer to me. If I wanted more than just a
brushing of lips, I got it. He crushed his lips against mine, opening
them slightly so he could reach out and coax me into opening my mouth
with his tongue. When I did, he wrapped his tongue around mine, it was
probably the best kiss I’d ever gotten, and I resent the fact that he
was the one who gave it to me.
While we were kissing, he’d managed to shift me around so both of his
legs were inside of mine, and he was still leaning back against the
armrest of the couch, so now I couldn’t move anywhere without getting
closer to him first.
He slid his hands around to each side of my waist and kissed a path
from my lips, over my chin, and down to my throat where he started
sucking in one certain spot. A bit belatedly, I realized that this boy
was going to purposely give me a hicky, to prove his domination, I sup-
pose, but I didn’t object, because he was the best kisser I’d ever
experienced, and I wanted him to continue.
I raised my arms in a clear signal that I wanted him to take my shirt
off, but instead of sliding it off of my body like I’d expected him to
do, he reached up to the collar and very deliberately ripped it off of
me, then gave me this little smirk and dropped it onto the floor. He
knew that I wouldn’t approve of that, and he was right. I slid off of
him onto the floor, then jumped up and started gathering my things to
leave. If he had thought that I wouldn’t go back to my home topless,
he was very wrong.
When he realized that I meant what I was doing, he practically sprang
off of the couch. Slowly he made his way over to me, it was almost
menacing, having this dark Italian advance on me, with a clear intent
in his eyes. I backed up against the living room wall and then slid
across it into the corner; he followed me the entire time. Before I saw
that I’d cornered myself, he was less that a foot from me, so I wasn’t
able to move. Very deliberately, he reached out and took my books
from me, then stepped closer. My head didn’t come any farther up him
than his shoulder, and I got a very clear view of his chest underneath
his tight shirt.
He lowered his mouth so it was less than a breath away from his, then,
surprising me completely, he caught my backside in his hands and lifted
me up to his mouth, so I was hanging clear off of the floor. Fearing he
would drop me (totally something he’d do), I wrapped my arms around his
neck and held on while he teased my earlobe with his teeth. I slid my
hands down under the neck of his shirt and kneaded the soft flesh of
his muscular back. He made a sound deep in his throat and I ran my hands
down his sides and grabbed the end of his shirt. He propped me back
against the wall, leaving a knee between my legs so I couldn’t escape,
and quickly took his shirt off, then drew me back to his mouth again.
By this far along, I knew that we weren’t going to be stopping, and I
didn’t even think about asking him to, so I slid my hands around his back,
half-mad with the feel of his rippling muscles and soft skin under my
fingers. He had worked his hands slowly up to the clasp on my bra, and
with one expert movement, had it undone. I leaned away from him so I
could look into his eyes when I took it off, and I wasn’t disappointed
with the desirous look I saw in them. Somewhere along the line, my bra
dropped into a heap on their floor.
Wes still had his knee inbetween my thighs, and I rocked myself down onto
it involuntarily while he was teasing my breasts and nipples with feather-
light kisses and caresses. He would close his teeth on one nipple, tug
it gently, then let it go, only to replace his teeth with his fingers
which were just as unnerving. I finally grabbed his hair and forced him
to take at least one fully into his mouth, and the feeling of his tongue
slowly licking it almost did me in. My head was back against the wall,
eyes totally shut, and my hair was laying against his knee behind me.
While I was busy enjoying the rapture his mouth was giving me, I didn’t
notice when he unbuttoned my shorts, nor when he unbuttoned his own pants.
I just remember the shock I got when I found his fingers gently tracing
the waistband of my panties. I sat bolt upright and looked straight into
his eyes. “Are we going to do this?” I asked him, direct as always.
“I want you,” was all the answer I got, and it was whispered so softly I
barely heard it.
So I managed to squirm off of his knee, and the instant my feet touched the
floor, so did my shorts. I stepped closer to him and slid my hands into
the back of his pants, slowly, my hands never leaving his legs, sliding them
off of him and down to the floor. I stood, my hands trembling slightly when
I laid them on his chest, and softly kissed his collarbone. He must have
known I was rather unsure of what I was doing, and for once he had mercy on
me. Wes took my hand and led me over to the couch. Only for a second did he
let go of me, and that was to pull the blanket he had wanted earlier down
onto the floor, where he sat down on it. He extended his hand in invitation
and I took it, kneeling beside him. Once again, he put his hands around my
back and drew me inbetween his knees.
By then, I was barely aware of anything beyond him, and when he tugged off my
panties, I didn’t have the breath to object. He came up to his knees in front
of me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. Laying a hand on each of my
hips, he got me to stand in front of him. Then he slid one of those hands
down, over my pubic hair, which, needless to say, caused a small shiver, then
slowly down the inside of my thigh, gently nudging them apart. I had some
small knowledge of what was to come, so I braced one of my hands on each of
his shoulders, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Very slowly, he rested his cheek against my stomach, the small growth of fac-
ial hair he’d gotten that day was a very distinct feeling against my skin.
He slid the hand that had stayed on my waist around to hold me against him,
his other hand, meanwhile, was slowly sliding up from my knee to the juncture
of my thighs, to a place I had never allowed another person to touch, and
which was, at that moment, very very damp.
While his lips were nuzzling against the skin of my belly, he ran his thumb
over my clit. It was a touch so soft that it took a moment to register, but
when he did it a second time, my knees went so weak that he had to practically
hold me up. Using his forefinger, he drew my own moisture out to wet that
entire area, then he brought that same finger to his lips, and, while he turn-
ed his face up to me so I could watch what he was doing, he slid it into his
mouth and sucked it dry. My breaths shortened, and when he put his fingers
back where they’d been a moment before, I cried out softly. Slowly, and very
deliberately, he slid his first two fingers into me, and circled my clit with
his thumb. Wes let me slide down his body just a bit, but it was enough to
embed his fingers farther in me, and when I shifted just the slightest bit,
I orgasmed against them, my muscles clenching and tightening around him in
small spasms. I went totally limp in his arms and he slid me down his body to
lay me back against the blankets in a sprawl of abandon. I watched him as he
repeated what he had done with one finger to his entire hand, which was now
wet with my juices. He stood up, towering over me, and drew his boxers over
his hips, to down around his ankles, where he negligently kicked them off.
By that time, he was semi-hard, and I couldn’t fathom how his dick was going to
fit into me without ripping me apart. From the ground, I looked up at him,
he had this smug look on his face, the bastard, and he ran his eyes down me
from the top of my head to my feet, making me very aware of how naked we both
were.
Wes dropped to his knees beside me and ran his hands down the path his eyes had
just traveled, kneading the muscles, trying to get me to relax, I suppose. My
back and legs arched up against his hands, and he smiled an almost triumphant
smile. He continued his erotic massage until I could feel the clenching in my
abdomen, a sign I correctly interpreted as a prelude to orgasm. I reached out
for him and he slid his body over mine, balancing his weight well enough so as
not to crush me under him.
I wrapped my arms around him and my fingernails bit into his shoulders. He
leaned down to my ear and whispered, “Your legs, too. Wrap your legs around
me, it’s much better that way.” Conceding to his opinion as the expert in this
matter, I complied, and my legs wrapped firmly around his hips.
From my position, I could clearly see the veins in his neck begin to pulse and
stick out, showing the control he was extending on my behalf, and I was grate-
ful to him against my will.
Very very slowly, he pushed himself into me, letting me get used to the feeling
of him inside me. I shifted my hips slightly and he groaned. From that moment,
I recognized the pleasure I could give just from moving, and it made me feel a
whole lot better about doing what I was doing. He apparently had reached my
hymen when he opened his eyes and looked down at me. “This will hurt, but I
am going to make it as good for you as it already is for me.” I must have nod-
ded or something, because he clamped his lips over mine, kissing me fiercely
while his hips drew back and, in one fell swoop, he battered through my hymen.
My cry was muffled against his lips, but slowly the pain went away and my arms
and legs tightened around him, pulling him as close to me as he’d go.
He rocked his hips against me slowly, almost pulling the entire way out of me
before thrusting back in again. And very quickly I learned that moving against
him greatly increased the pleasure both for me and him. In no time at all my
body was once again feeling that clenching in all of its muscles, and I dug my
fingernails into him, arched my neck back and let out a loud scream of pure
pleasure. He threw back his head and pumped furiously into me, my orgasm set-
ting off his own. We hadn’t even thought to use any form of protection, so the
feeling of his hot cum shooting into me was one of the most sensual experiences
of the day. Wes lay limp on top of me for a long while before he rolled off
and then pulled me tightly against him. I hadn’t expected him to be as gentle
as he’d been, and I knew that maybe I wasn’t right about him, maybe he was a
decent human being.
We got married that autumn, and his sister, and my best friend, kept denying
it until the moment we both said, “I do.” I am blissfully happy, and I don’t
even feel guilty about it. We still fight as much as we used to, but they’re
mostly for fun, and the make up is always the best part, sometimes I think we
fight just to have the make up sex, because it’s always better than normal,
everyday sex.
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