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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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If I Was Your Girlfriend 
by Pi (address withheld) 
 
A college girl's first time is now only a memory, but 
what a memory. (MF, 1st, oral)

***

Maybe it was the party, maybe it was the trash-can 
punch, who knows, maybe I had just finally truly come 
to grips with my sexuality, but that night with Wayne 
will always seem fresh in my mind. I remember it almost 
everyday, bringing up every detail and refreshing it in 
my mind, so that it seems like it was only last night 
that I found myself wandering into the small, darkened 
bedroom in the depths of the frat house. 

I didn't see him there at first, the bright lights of 
the front room still sparkling in my blurred eyes. But 
as my vision adjusted, I realized that there was 
someone laying sideways across the bed. 

"Oh," I said, "I didn't realize there was someone in 
here. I'll go," and I started to leave. 

Whoever was on the bed raised his head and said, 
"Robin? Is that you?" I recognized the voice as 
Wayne's. I paused for a moment, then turned back into 
the room. 

"It's me," I said. 

"You don't have to leave," he said, propping himself up 
onto his elbows. There was something in his voice that 
said while I might be company, anyone extra would be a 
crowd. So I closed the door behind me as I moved over 
to sit down by him on the bed. 

He laid back down, and for a few minutes neither of us 
said anything. I trembled, physically and mentally, at 
the intimacy of the moment. My slightly blurry brain 
searched for something to say. I wasn't used to 
starting conversations. More importantly, I wasn't used 
to being the aggressor and that was what I suddenly 
felt the desire to be now. 

I stared at Wayne's body stretched out before me. He 
was tall, and thin, with the long lanky limbs that I 
loved-- I love. He wore his usual outfit of faded, 
almost-tight blue jeans and a subdued Polo shirt, 
tucked in at the waste. His arms were up, folding under 
his head to support it, and that emphasized the 
leanness of his body. I could see him breathing. 

I suddenly caught my reverie and in desperation to 
break it before I did something foolish, I said the 
first thing that came into my mind, "Some party, huh?" 
And immediately regretted it. How stupid! 

But I guess it was the right thing, because it started 
him talking. "Yeah, it was. Until Lisa dragged me back 
here." 

I thought about prompting him, but remembering that my 
tongue has a tendency for stupidity when I've been 
drinking, I waited out an expiation. 

"She thinks we should see other people," he said, 
bitterly, "She thinks that we should 'be friends'!" His 
voice took on a harshly mocking tone, and he slammed 
his arm down beside him onto the bed. 

"Oh," I said, still fumbling for words, "that's... 
awful." Another brilliant insight. I screamed out 
inside at my inability to do anything right. And then, 
almost without thinking I reached out and took his 
hand. What could have possibly made me do that? 

But much to my shock, he reached down with his other 
hand and pressed mine inside both of his. 

I don't know about other people, but I always find it 
amazing when anyone shows an interest in me. I just 
don't expect people to find me interesting or 
attractive. And so I sat there for who knows how long 
just enjoying our holding hands, not doing anything for 
fear that it would change the moment that it would 
break the feeling and force it to end. I wanted it to 
last forever. 

But it finally ended as he pulled me down to lay beside 
him on the bed. He hesitantly moved one of his hands up 
to stroke my hair, and looked at me with his dark brown 
eyes, which looked like endlessly deep pools of 
blackest ebony in the dim light of the unlit room, and 
said, "I don't want to be alone right now." 

I knew he was using me. I knew that he was just hurting 
from Lisa's rejection that he was reaching out to the 
first warm body he found, but I didn't care. I had 
watched him from a distance for so long now, had been 
so positive that he didn't feel anything towards me-- 
at least nothing like what I felt for him-- that I was 
willing to let him use me, for one night of delusion. 
For one night to be able to believe that he was 
attracted to me, that he wanted me, that our 
attractions were shared, I would do almost anything. 

And I realized then, that if I was going to make this 
night worth a whole lifetime, I would have to do the 
'almost anything'. I would have to do what I had never 
done before, I would have to go out to the limits of 
what I could give, I would have to give him more than I 
had ever given anyone else. I would have to not just 
let him take what he wanted, I was going to have to be 
active, I was going to have to *do*, not merely 
*allow*. 

"You're not alone," I said, taking the hand he ran 
through my hair into mine, and putting it down beside 
him. "Relax," I explained, "Just lay there. Let me... 
let me love you." 

His eyes searched mine for a moment; he almost seemed 
ready to refuse me, but then his lids dropped down over 
his eyes and he laid his head back onto the bed, saying 
not a word. 

I moved down on the bed until I was at the level of his 
belt. Slowly, I reached out and press my hand against 
the rise in his jeans just below the buckle. It was 
warm. He was warm. I slid my hand down the rise and 
then down his far thigh. I was hard, and felt good 
under the denim of his jeans. I pulled my hand back and 
stopped for a moment. I realized that I wasn't 
breathing. 

I closed my eyes and just breathed for a moment, and 
tried to avoid asking myself what I was doing. No more 
thought, no more questions. I had to act, not think. 
Now or never. 

I opened my eyes, and reached for his belt. This time I 
remembered to breath, but I kept my breathing as 
shallow as I could, afraid that if I didn't my 
excitement would overcome me, and I would hyper-
ventilate and pass out. Wouldn't that be sexy? 

I undid his belt and then his jeans. Slowly, I undid 
all the buttons in his button-fly. As my hands work 
over it, I could feel his penis beginning to get 
larger, and warmer. I reached inside his jeans and 
tremulously I took hold of his penis through the fabric 
of his jockeys. I had wondered many times what Wayne's 
erection would be like, watching him with Lisa, and now 
with it here in my hand, it felt good. As I varied my 
grip and moved my hand slightly up and down, it grew 
even larger, and harder. 

It was getting more and more difficult to take my time 
about this. I let go of him and with both hands gripped 
his jeans and jerked them down, then I pulled his 
jockeys down with another lack of delicacy. His penis 
leapt free. I took it full in my hand, and it felt hot 
enough to burn me. I leaned my face towards its end, 
and the musky smell of him hit me in the face. 
Intellectually I knew that I should be repulsed, but on 
a deeper level I relished the smelled. I drew a deep 
breath in through my nose to let the scent fill my 
brain like a pull on an opium pipe, and it thrilled me. 

As I began to working my hand up and down, I brought 
the end up and my lips down for a gentle dry kiss on 
the glans. Then I wet my lips and opening my teeth 
while pursing my mouth I pushed it down over the glans. 
The taste of him blasted full in my mouth, and again I 
was mentally slammed by the repulsion/ecstasy 
dichotomy. But now even the feeling of repulsion only 
excited me more. Anything-- I would do anything for 
him. 

I pushed him farther into my mouth. Suddenly, his penis 
seemed huge, it filled my mouth to overflowing, but I 
couldn't seem to get enough of him. I began throbbing 
my head, up and down, his penis sliding between my 
clasped lips, and rubbing against my tongue which I 
pushed greedily up against it, trying to pull even more 
of his flavor from him. At the top of my strokes, I 
would play over his glans with the tip of my tongue, 
but as I grew more and more fevered I stopped because 
my strokes were too fast to allow such details. 

I also had to stop playing because his hips began to 
rock with me, and I had to start shortening my strokes 
for fear that he would slip outside of my mouth. 
Suddenly that thought seemed like death to me. Deeper 
and deeper I pushed him into my mouth, and harder and 
harder I sucked, trying to get all of him into me that 
I could. 

Then with a sudden, spasmodic jerking, he ejaculated. 
The semen was strangely cool in my mouth after the 
extended burning heat of his penis. But I didn't linger 
on the thought. I swallowed quickly and then pushed him 
as far into my mouth, into my throat, as I ever had so 
far and started gulping passionately, trying to get 
every drop of him deep into me as fast as I could. At 
that moment if I could have swallowed him whole I would 
have. 

In a span of time that was both an eternity and an 
instant, he was done and sagging back down onto the bed 
from the height to which his jerking had lifted his 
hips. Sadly, I let his penis slip out of my mouth, then 
I lay there a moment and caught my breath. 

It had been too much. My mind was a blank and my body 
buzzed. There was a ringing in my ears, and my heart 
was still beating so hard I was afraid that it would 
surely stop and that I would have killed myself with 
sex. Not a bad way to go, but I was young yet! 

Slowly, thought came back to me and I moved back up the 
bed to lay beside Wayne and to look into his eyes. He 
turned his to look at me, and whispered, "Thank you." 

I just lay there looking into his deep, deep eyes. 
Forever-- this had to last forever. 

He grew restless after a moment or two, perhaps 
misunderstanding my silence and my glowing look, and he 
tried to explain. "I, uh, I can't... I mean, I don't 
think I can..." 

"Shhhsh," I said, "I understand. Let's just lay here 
for awhile, okay?" My hand slid idly between my legs 
and rubbed against my own still hard and throbbing 
penis. He didn't have to do anything for me. Giving me 
something to remember at night for the rest of my life 
was more than enough. 

And it doesn't even matter that he never spoke to me 
again. I had expected that. 

It was only one night, but it has lasted this much of 
my lifetime, at least, and I don't expect to lose it 
soon. It was special and always will be; so will he. 

Pi 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 56