Copyright © 2001 Alcibiades
"If you're a whore," Sarah Lee asked with a smile, "what does that make me?"
Amanda laughed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. It was true; her friend's sex drive was very... healthy. Still, it wasn't a very good comparison.
"Sarah," she protested, "you've been going out with Ben since Orientation. It's not the same thing."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Do you think we hooked up the day we met because we knew it was true love? I thought he was hot and he has a thing for Asian chicks. You need to give yourself a break and stop thinking that guys are the only ones who are allowed to be horny."
"I know I'm allowed to be horny. I just don't think it's right for me to walk into a guy's room and... you know."
It had been three days since the episode in Jeremy's room. She had thought she could hide how miserable she was, but everyone could tell. She wasn't smiling, she wasn't making cheerful small talk. She also wasn't hanging out with Jeremy, and she was morbidly sure that everyone had noticed. She couldn't bear to talk about it, though several of her friends had asked her what was the matter. Even the RA had asked if everything was okay.
Finally she had gone to Sarah; Sarah would understand, and wouldn't judge her. Amanda told her everything, all the gory details, and had managed to keep her composure until the end, when she admitted that she felt like a whore. Sarah, as Amanda could have predicted, was having none of it.
"Amanda, You aren't going to hell just because you and Jeremy hooked up before you officially started going out."
"Going out? It's been three days and every time I see him in the hall I want to die."
"You've practically been best friends since you met, he wants to go out with you, you can't stop thinking about him. Amanda, if you're best friends with a guy and you also want to jump his bones, that means you should go out with him. Life's too short to worry about what it all means in the cosmic scheme of things. Trust me, God doesn't care if you like giving head."
Amanda blushed and looked away. " I didn't think I did. And then all of a sudden I wanted to, and now I can't stop thinking about... that stuff. Do you think something's wrong with me?"
Sarah laughed. "No, I think you finally found a guy you really like. I've been telling you all year that those frat guys are a bunch of assholes. Jeremy's a good guy, and he's kind of cute."
"If he's such a good guy then I should have waited."
"Oh, give me a break. I've got news for you: guys don't think women who like fooling around are sluts. It's not the 50's anymore."
"I just think I should be able to control myself."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "I'm no expert on religion, but doesn't it say somewhere that God never gives you more temptation than you can handle? Or maybe that's an Alcoholics Anonymous thing. Whatever. All I know is that if you, of all people, can't control yourself, then maybe you should stop worrying and enjoy yourself. Maybe Jeremy's the man of your dreams. At least go out on a date with him before you decide to throw yourself under a train."
Amanda smiled. Sarah had a point. She wouldn't have thought so last week, but what possible reason could there be for the way she'd been feeling? She was too embarrassed to be in the same room with Jeremy, but she couldn't get him out of her head. She remembered the way he kissed her breasts, the wonderful hardness of his cock, how good he tasted in her mouth. She'd been almost unbearably aroused for days. She hardly ever masturbated, but yesterday afternoon she had excused herself from her English discussion to bring herself off in the ladies room, imagining Jeremy bending her over and sliding his big dick into her moist cunt.
She caught herself fantasizing again and snapped out of it. "Maybe you're right. Still, I feel a little weird after what happened Sunday."
"Hey, look at it this way," Sarah said. "You've been best friends since O-Week, so technically you waited all year before you fooled around with him. Congratulations."
Amanda smiled again. That was true, wasn't it? It wasn't like Jeremy was some guy she'd known for a week. He'd wanted it, too. He'd understand. Maybe it was time to relax a little.
Maybe. But something didn't feel right. Sarah was a great person and a great friend, but they had always agreed to disagree about things like this. Since when did Amanda take love advice from a girl who joked that her motto was "Nobody does it like Sarah Lee"? Was it possible she had gone to Sarah because she knew Sarah would tell her what she wanted to hear? In the back of her mind lurked the troubling suspicion that this was all a big rationalization, that she was about to make a terrible mistake.
Those fears were soon forgotten, though, replaced with more pleasant thoughts of Jeremy lying her on her back and spreading her legs, smiling down at her slick thighs and dripping pussy.
Jeremy lay in bed, staring into darkness, thinking about her.
He wanted Amanda, now more than ever. The image of her topless, hungrily sucking his cock and swallowing his come, wouldn't leave his head. He wanted to slide his dick into her mouth, into her pussy. He could hardly stand it. For days he had fought the urge to go to her room, to ask her what was going on, to force the issue.
He'd controlled himself, because he was the one with leverage. He'd already seen some of what the recipe had done to Amanda. All he had to do was wait. He wanted her, but she needed him. She couldn't control herself.
Control. It had taken him a while to realize that he was playing a power game with her. What difference did it make, after all, whether she came to him or he went to her? Either way, if the book was to be believed, she was hopelessly attracted to him and becoming progressively less sexually inhibited. The eventual result was a foregone conclusion.
Well, maybe the result was predetermined, but banging Amanda Cooper wasn't all he was interested in. She'd rejected him once. He wasn't going to crawl to her and beg for a relationship, even if he knew that she wouldn't--couldn't--say no. She'd spent the entire year--hell, her entire life--passing judgment on an endless parade of suitors. Did she have any idea at all of what it was like for a guy to put himself on the line, to expose himself to ridicule and rejection? She'd spent her whole life in control, and didn't even know it. She acted like her love life was a cross she had to bear. If that recipe was worth a damn then it would save him the annoyance of doing that little dance with her. If she wanted him, she'd have to come to him and admit it. She was a sweet girl, but enough was enough. He smiled a little. Man, he was really pissed off at her.
Sunday night had been amazing, and she hadn't even looked at him since. He was just frustrated that they weren't together. Jesus, how long was she going to wait? He slid his right hand beneath the sheet and coiled his fingers around his stiffening cock.
She felt silly calling when he lived just down the hall, but she was too nervous to go to his room. When he picked up he seemed distant, almost disinterested. She felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach, wondered if she'd scared him off, if he was so disgusted by the way she'd acted that he didn't want to see her anymore. She could hardly bear the prospect of being humiliated like that.
And not just humiliated, but left without Jeremy. Without him to satisfy her desires, which were becoming stronger and stronger. She was getting wet just from hearing his voice on the other end of the phone. But there was something going wrong with the conversation that she couldn't put her finger on. Jeremy was being weird, somehow. Finally she just blurted it out, and asked him if he wanted to get dinner Friday night. He said sure, and offered to come by her room at 8 o'clock. She had to hold the phone away from her mouth so he wouldn't hear her practically gasping in relief.
Then he told her that he had reading he needed to finish and quickly hung up on her. She was nervous; he wasn't acting like himself. Well, neither was she. She realized that she had asked him on a date. She'd never asked a guy out before. Well, he wasn't just any guy. But why was he being so weird? Wasn't he interested? Well, would he have said yes if he wasn't interested? She was obsessing again, almost panicking. She made herself take a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine.
As she lay on her bed she suddenly remembered that she'd made plans to get together with some friends to study for tomorrow's bio exam. That was supposed to be at 8 o'clock; Amanda groaned as she checked her watch and saw that it was already ten after. If I'm not careful, she thought with a little grin, obsessing about Jeremy will land me on academic probation.
She quickly got up and got ready to leave. She was about to walk out the door when she decided to change her panties. They were still soaked, and the last thing she needed the night before a test was an excuse to daydream about Jeremy.
She threw her backpack and jacket on her bed, kicked off her shoes and pulled her jeans and underwear down and off. She smiled as she walked to the dresser; the cool air felt wonderful on her exposed pussy. She opened the top drawer and surveyed her options. Lots of boring white cotton. Well, it didn't have to be fashionable, just comfortable. She was the only one who ever saw it.
That was going to change, though.
She shuddered at the thought. Might as well stop pretending it isn't going to happen, she thought to herself. You want it too much. You need it. Need him.
She reached down and ran a finger over her slick lips and her knees almost buckled; she cried out and steadied herself against the dresser. God, it was like a bolt of electricity. She was so much more sensitive, so much more easily turned on than she'd ever been. It was a little weird, the way it had happened so suddenly. She wasn't complaining, though; it was amazing.
She walked over to look at herself in the full-length mirror on her closet door. Her cheeks were flushed. Her dark pubic hair stood out against her pale thighs. She unbuttoned her blouse, swaying her hips and watching her reflection. She smiled as she let her top fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. Her hands slid over her body, moving over her thighs and up her stomach and onto her breasts. She imagined they were Jeremy's hands. His strong hands all over her hot body. She caressed her breasts through her bra, then quickly unhooked it and let it drop in front of her.
She studied her reflection from head to toe, moving her hips and shoulders to an imaginary rhythm. She'd always loved to dance. It made her feel free. She'd never done anything like this before, though. It was fun, exciting. She watched herself in the mirror, watched her breasts as she squeezed them and pushed them up, as she played with her nipples. She admired her silky white skin, her flat stomach, her big tits. She looked good. Hot. She turned to admire her profile, arching her back and lifting her hands above her head. She shook her sexy ass and dropped a hand down to her crotch. Slowly she started circling her clitoris with her index finger, moaning and dancing as her hand moved furiously between her legs.
Jeremy wanted her. He wanted to get his hands on her tits, on her ass, down her pants. He wanted to stuff her pussy with his fat cock. They all did. It was such a relief to finally admit that, to stop hoping for a guy who didn't exist. Guys wanted sex, and she was a hot, sexy babe. It didn't make her a bad person. She was sick of feeling guilty. She wanted to be free and have fun, and she'd finally found the right guy. Jeremy thought she was hot, but he knew there was more to her than her looks.
She looked into the mirror, into her eyes. "I'm going to be Jeremy's lover." She felt an orgasm building, felt that wonderful tingling in her pussy, felt little waves of pleasure moving over her body.
She moved to her bed, throwing herself onto her back and sliding a finger into herself. She closed her eyes and imagined Jeremy on top of her, parting her legs, parting her lips, pumping his cock into her.
He hadn't planned to give her such a hard time, but he found himself having fun as he ignored the hints she was dropping and passed up the opportunities she gave him to ask her out. She seemed so unsure of herself, so eager to please. He liked that. When she finally asked him to dinner he accepted and quickly got off the phone, not wanting to spoil his little victory with a bunch of friendly small talk.
The conversation had turned him on. His mind usually filled with vivid images when he jacked off, but this time he came just from thinking about the control he had over Amanda.
But then he got nervous, wondering if he was taking his little power trip too far. He didn't really know how strong the recipe was; his little hard-to-get act might be enough to alienate her.
He worried as he drifted off to sleep Thursday night and started worrying again when he woke up Friday morning. He managed to keep mind on school for most of the day, but he didn't relax completely until Amanda opened her door at five after eight.
She greeted him with a warm smile and a hello which was friendly but seemed almost shy. There was something in her voice, something in her body language, that put him at ease. He was in control. Of course he was.
Desire began to replace his anxiety. Amanda looked gorgeous, even better than he could have imagined. He'd never noticed how she made herself up for dates; it looked great. Rouge on her cheekbones, dark mascara, deep red lipstick. It probably seemed heavier than it was because he was so used to seeing her wearing almost no makeup at all.
His eyes dropped involuntarily to her body, and had to stifle a grin. Tight, high-necked sweater, form fitting pants. Her chest straining against red cashmere. Black fabric clinging to her hips. Her lush figure on display. Stylish, and sexy in a very tasteful way. He knew Amanda, though, and this was about as risqué as her wardrobe got. He told her she looked great; she smiled again and thanked him in that same comforting tone.
They chatted comfortably at dinner, mostly about school and mutual friends. She was afraid she'd flunked her bio exam. She worried almost as much about her grades as she did about her love life, even though she got nearly all A's. He'd given her the usual reassurances, keeping up his end of the conversation while maddeningly intense fantasies raced through his head.
He had promised himself that he'd keep his eyes from wandering, but he couldn't help it. That damn sweater practically begged him to drop his gaze to her chest, to take in the round outline of her breasts through the fabric, to imagine his hands caressing her tits, his fingers flicking her stiff nipples.
Even when he managed to tear his eyes off her tits, he found himself looking at her mouth instead of her eyes as she talked. Watching her white teeth flashing behind plump red lips, remembering how it felt to have his dick between those lips, in that mouth. He wanted more tonight. He wanted her screaming his name as he fucked her virgin pussy.
After what seemed like an eternity dinner was over, and his heart was in his throat as he asked Amanda if she wanted to stay out or go back to the dorm and hang out. It sounded bad as soon as he said it; it didn't take a genius to figure out what he really wanted to do back at the dorm. He wasn't particularly surprised, though, when she said she wanted to head back. She knew what he wanted, and she wanted it too.
Jeremy's cock hardened as he and Amanda walked down the hall towards his room. Everything up to this point had been a formality; he was about to get what he was really after. Maybe it was wrong to think like that, but he wanted her too damn badly to care.
Just be cool, he told himself as he unlocked his door and opened it for Amanda. Remember who's in control. He walked in behind her and locked the door, lifting his gaze from her ass to her eyes as she turned around.
What a great date.
They talked about everything, just like they always had. Her mind had been so filled with sex lately that she'd almost forgotten the things that had attracted her to Jeremy in the first place. He was sweet, funny, smart, a great listener.
All of her fears seemed silly now. They were great friends, maybe best friends. He knew her too well to think she was a slut. He had to know that there was something special between them.
She had worried a little about her outfit, but reminded herself that Jeremy wasn't like other guys. He liked her for who she was. There was no reason not to look sexy and attractive if that's how she felt, because he wouldn't get the wrong idea. Besides, she kind of liked the idea of turning him on.
She caught him glancing at her chest a few times during dinner, but that was only natural. Why else had she picked her tightest sweater? She liked his eyes on her body, liked knowing that he wanted her. He probably had a hard-on right now. She felt herself blushing, and immediately tried to think about something else.
When Jeremy asked if she wanted to stay out or go back to the dorm Amanda knew what he was getting at. She said she wouldn't mind just heading home, trying to sound casual as her heart raced and her pussy moistened.
They chatted on the way back, but she was hardly paying attention. She felt closer to Jeremy than she'd ever felt to anyone. He opened his door for her like a gentleman, and she walked into his room. This was the night.
She turned to face him, happy and excited and full of desire. He was leaning against the door, looking at her. Staring at her, really. He was unbelievably hot, and it was more than his looks. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident, so in-control.
She stared into his dark, sexy eyes and--all at once her passion dimmed, replaced by a hollow feeling. She saw, or maybe she just thought she saw... something. Something she didn't like, something wrong going on behind his eyes; it had looked just for an instant like he was leering at her, sizing her up like a piece of meat. She was far past getting annoyed or uncomfortable when guys looked her over; it was such a part of her life that she hardly noticed anymore. Besides, she certainly didn't have a problem with Jeremy looking at her, wanting her. But this was different, somehow. It reminded her of something unpleasant, but she couldn't quite remember what.
Part of her wanted to leave, to run back to her room and lock the door and figure out what the heck was going on. But she was still looking into his eyes, and if she really had seen something it was gone now. It had been her imagination, just nerves; he was walking to her now, and it felt good and right when he held her in his arms. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as he kissed her neck, and smiled when his hands slid from her hips to cup her ass. She could feel his cock pressing against her, and it almost made her moan out loud.
In the back of her mind a voice was still screaming that something about this wasn't right, but she allowed him to walk her backwards as his hands roamed over her body, and she laughed out loud when he picked her up and laid her down on his bed. Then he was on top of her, between her opened legs, kissing her greedily on the mouth, his right hand under her sweater and squeezing her breast. His cock was pressing into her crotch, and her pussy was throbbing. He was so aggressive, so insistent... God, she wanted him so badly.
And then he was pulling off her sweater and unhooking her bra, and she cried out softly as his hands covered her breasts and kneaded them firmly, almost harshly. And she let him pull off her shoes and socks, and didn't stop him when he unbuckled her belt and unbuttoned her pants.
He quickly and gracelessly pulled down her pants and her panties and threw them on the floor. Then he paused for a second, almost taken by surprise at the sight of Amanda Cooper lying naked on his bed, her eyes closed, her full lips parted, her plump tits rising and falling with her heavy breaths.
God, she was hot.
Her pubic hair was a dark triangle against her fair skin. He put his hands on her knees and parted her legs, revealing her swollen pink cunt. It was glistening with the evidence of her arousal, and her inner thighs were slick with her juices. She wasn't just wet, she was dripping.
He wanted to go slow, to be a gentleman, to be romantic, but he couldn't help himself. He had wanted her so desperately for so long, and only a couple weeks ago he had thought the dream would remain out of reach forever. And now here he was, kneeling between Amanda's legs, staring down at her sopping pussy, and he didn't want to waste time on foreplay.
He wanted to fuck her brains out.
He knew she wanted it. He could tell by her breathing, by the color in her cheeks, by the ease with which he'd spread her legs, by her obscenely excited cunt.
He thought briefly about getting a condom, but remembered her once telling him something about taking birth control pills for her period.
He unbuckled his belt.
She could hear him taking off his clothes, but she kept her eyes closed because she was too nervous to open them.
This was it. She had always thought it would happen on her wedding night, but now that idea seemed impossibly juvenile. Jeremy was so wonderful, the most wonderful guy she'd ever met, and he was her best friend. This was the way it was supposed to be. Relax, she told herself. You know yourself. You wouldn't want him this badly if it wasn't the right thing.
She felt him on top of her, his chest above hers, his face next to hers, and her breathing quickened. Her heart, which had already been beating hard, seemed ready to burst out of her ribcage. Her pussy was throbbing; she could hardly bear it.
It was all happening so fast; she had always imagined a lot of kissing and touching and fondling first. Well, she thought, he's done this before, he knows what he's doing.
He was whispering in her ear. "You mean so much to me Amanda; can I make love to you?"
She practically melted at those words and could barely gasp out her assent. She thought for a split second about a condom, but didn't want to ruin things by asking him to wear one. She didn't have anything to worry about; this was Jeremy.
Then she felt something big and warm and firm against her most sensitive flesh, and she couldn't help crying out. Nobody had ever touched her there before, and now Jeremy's cock was pressing against her hot wet pussy.
All at once she felt it sliding into her, felt an instant's pain and then an amazing feeling of being filled up, wonderfully filled up by Jeremy's big dick. It was incredible, so much better than she had imagined. Slowly, slowly, he pulled his hips back, and the friction was delicious. Then he was sliding back into her, and finding a rhythm, and all she could do was lie there and feel his big cock moving in and out, feel a warm tingling spreading from her pussy to the rest of her body.
She realized that she was moaning, but she couldn't help herself. God, it was so good, so perfect. She opened her eyes and looked into Jeremy's, and nothing had ever felt this good or this right. God, it was heaven.
She wasn't doing much besides just lying there and letting him fuck her, but that was fine by him; there would be plenty of time to improve her technique. For now he was just enjoying the tight slickness of her cunt and her little animal moans.
He wanted to see more of her. He rose up onto his knees and grabbed her legs, resting her ankles on his shoulders. Her eyes were full of passion and curiosity, and they widened as he thrust his hips forward, fucking her harder and deeper than before. She threw her head back, and her moaning got louder and louder, and he smiled as he watched her perfect jugs bouncing as his cock pounded her tight pussy.
He reached down to play with her tits, covering them with his hands, squeezing them, enjoying their size, lightly pinching her rock-hard nipples. She started gasping his name over and over again, and he felt his orgasm welling up inside him. Her hips began bucking wildly, and her moaning reached a crescendo, and he could feel her pussy tighten around his cock. As he watched Amanda's orgasm wash over her body he let himself go, pumping a seemingly endless stream of come into her hot, wet cunt.
God, she was so close; he was kneeling above her and her legs were up on his shoulders and it felt so good to be so exposed to him; he was looking at her tits, at her pussy, and his dick was so deep inside her, she didn't think it could go that far up into her but it was, his big fat cock in her little cunt, pounding away, filling her up; and then she felt his hands all over her tits, kneading and rubbing and playing with her nipples, and she had never felt anything like it, his hands on her body, his cock up inside her, and her hips started moving and she heard herself calling his name; and then the electric feeling in her cunt spread through her body and she shook and moaned and bucked her pelvis and all she could think was that she wanted to feel like this forever.
Christ, he'd never seen a girl come that hard. He wasn't exactly the most experienced guy in the world, but she had gone off like a porn star; he didn't think girls acted that way in real life. He wasn't complaining; it was fucking hot.
He was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling, and she was on her side, her body against his, her head on his chest. They weren't talking, which didn't bother him; he wanted to think.
He had always wondered about her, wondered whether she'd manage to stay Ms. Prim and Proper while she was getting nailed. Now he knew.
He didn't know anything. He had his little fantasy about the good little girl going wild in bed, but how much of what she had just done, had just felt, had anything to do with her? How much of it was just the recipe working its magic?
Well, if you wanted the real deal you should have done things the old-fashioned way.
Fuck that, though. He had tried the old-fashioned way and he'd been shot down because Amanda preferred parceling out hand-jobs to jock assholes.
Yeah, why accept rejection when rape is so much more satisfying?
Where had that come from? He hadn't raped anyone. She'd wanted it at least as much as he had.
But why? She'd said no to him once, and he'd come back and mind-fucked her with some kind of weird drug. He hadn't held her down or put a gun to her head, but wasn't it even worse to get what he wanted by mucking around with her brain, with her soul?
Well, it does have its advantages: You won't get caught, and you can use her over and over again, every way you can think of, and she'll love you for it.
All of a sudden he thought of something completely different, of him and his friends copying each other's CDs and swiping music off the internet. Some of them thought it was harmless, but Jeremy thought it was stealing. He did it anyway; the lure of free music was more than he could resist. He'd always thought that if it were something really important he'd do the right thing.
Well, here he was, and he wasn't going to do the right thing. He looked inside himself for self-loathing, for a pang of conscience, but felt nothing. He knew it was wrong, but as he lay in bed with Amanda beside him he realized that he didn't care.