Where it happened: bedroom in frat house
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
My first time was anything but meaningful. It was during my freshman year of college. Five friends and I were at a frat party. There was a lot of alcohol. I’d had about three drinks which, due to my lack of body weight, was enough to get me pretty drunk. I was standing around, cup in hand, waiting for my friends to do something interesting. They never did, so I decided to see what was upstairs. A few people and a keg were hanging out in a bedroom. I sat down on the couch, ignoring the guy next to me. He was pretty wasted, a bit high, and sleepy. Eventually, we started talking a bit. I can’t remember what was said. However, eventually my friends, who had temporarily morphed into five overprotective parents, came up and told me that I had to go home with them. I said I didn’t want to. The guy told them he would walk me home, and apparently this was enough for them because they left. When the party started winding down, we were still on that couch, and our hands came together. He said, “Do you want to leave?” I said yes. As we left the building, he said, “You don’t actually want to go home, do you?” I looked up at him. Studied him. He was handsome. I had also learned that he was three years my senior, and that excited me. Hence, I replied, “No, I think I want to go to your place.” He told me he lived in a frat, and not just any frat. This was the most snobby, exclusive frat on campus, populated by attractive, preppy, white Christians from very wealthy families. Normally I would have felt extremly uncomfortable in this setting, but at that moment I didn’t care. We walked into the lavishly decorated house and went up to his bedroom. I pulled off my boots and climbed up onto his bed. He started kissing me ferociously, and the clothes flew off. I didn’t want to receive oral sex, but he insisted. It was my first time for that too. I liked it. Then, he put on the condom. He was inside me for all of a few seconds. He thrusted a few times, and the pain was way too intense. I told him we couldn’t do this much longer, and he stopped. I decided I would get him off anyway using my mouth and hands. Of course, that didn’t quite work. After about 15 minutes, he confessed that he was on medication that made it difficult, often impossible, for him to orgasm. But it didn’t kill the vibe. He kept kissing me violently, and at one point I was airborne. Eventually I got tired and decided to go to sleep. I didn’t sleep much at all that night. At about 5 AM he regained sobriety and went to go to the bathroom. I pretended to be asleep. When he came back, he looked at me and said “Jesus Christ fucking beautiful” and then he went back under the covers and spooned with me for the rest of the night. I got up at 8 AM. He was still sleeping. Curious as to what his name was, I glanced at the driver’s license on the night table beside us. Then, I gathered my clothes. I could not find one of my socks, but I didn’t spend much time looking for it. I wanted to get out of there without having to see him or leave my number. I used the bathroom, and I noticed the blood on the toilet paper. As I exited, I saw about two of his frat brothers, also very attractive. I’m sure they knew what I’d been there for, and they said “Hey” so very awkwardly. I walked back to my dorm. It was snowing. We never heard from each other again, though once I saw him from a distance at a concert.
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