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Friday, October 8

The crisp October air coupled with the persistent midwestern wind hastened Charlotte’s steps down the sidewalk on a Friday evening. She pulled her phone back out to check that she was on the right path for about the third time in the past minute — It was 6:40 PM with 7 more minutes of walking left. She had been hoping to arrive before sunset so she wouldn’t have to walk in the dark and was hoping she could catch a ride home with Kim. She pulled her red, white, and black plaid scarf up, sinking her chin below shoulder level just as her button nose began to resemble a strawberry in both color and shape.

* * *

“C’mon, you reaaalllyy need to get out of your shell, Lottie…” Kim had implored her best friend, holding both of her hands and making puppy-dog eyes at Charlotte, and was the only one who could get away with calling her “Lottie”.

“Fine… but I need to know you’re not gonna abandon me at this brick house for some boy. Promise me you’ll stay with me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of abandoning you. I want you to have fun!” Kim said, in complete earnest, her espresso eyes sparkling, emphatically. “Just wait for me if I disappear up to the love shack for a little bit.”

“Okay, but don’t be surprised if I just end up sitting on the couch and petting their dog.”

* * *

Charlotte’s pale, slender fingers gripped each hand’s opposite shoulder, feeling some comfort in the soft, gray fabric of her blouse as she approached “the brick house”, as it was known. A house that had a reputation of being a just-off-campus party house every year, regardless of who happened to be renting it at the time. She walked up the front steps, hearing some folksy indie music through the walls she wasn’t particularly a fan of.

“Hey, you must be Charlotte!” A cookie-cutter-frat-faced guy in a horrendous combination of a mint-button down and salmon shorts said from the stoop of the house, upon her approach.

“How did you know?” She asked, moving her auburn hair out of her eyes, and looking up at the first guy who had addressed her in weeks, her heart skipping a beat.

“Kim showed me a picture. That gorgeous hair isn’t something you forget.”

“O-kayyy, big boy,” Kim said, out of nowhere, her hand moving the flirtatious doorman out of the way from inside, her dark brown hair in a meticulously-messy bun. God, she looked cute tonight. She pulled Charlotte inside and whispered “Trust me, he’s dumber than a box of rocks and not worth your time. There’s a reason he’s on door duty.” The two had known each other since freshman orientation, and Kim’s mild Korean accent still endeared her to Charlotte.

Charlotte was thankful for her lifeline, and more than a tad embarrassed that box-of-rocks-boy had gotten her heart rate up. Her lack of attention from guys wasn’t because she was unattractive, by any means. Her petite frame, innocent pixie-like face, and unique, pale-green, almost gray eyes got her plenty of undue attention, for better or worse. Rather, it was that she’d holed herself up in her dorm for midterms, subsisting on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and caffeine for much longer than a newly 21-year-old girl should. Kim, on the other hand, was a social butterfly, and despite being slightly chubby, carried her weight mostly in her thighs. She had an adorable rounded face and was always experimenting with the newest makeup and fashion trends as a skilled artist. Charlotte liked to jokingly clarify to friends that she was a pickup artist, capable of pulling anyone she felt would be good company for the night. Some referred to her as loud or even boisterous, but Kim referred to it as a “zest for life”, and Charlotte always affectionately agreed.

She was studying graphic design — a more “useful” form of art, she said, than her beautiful charcoal drawings, which was how they’d actually met. At one of those forced-freshman-meet-and-greets, Kim had been manning the visual arts club booth, and somehow convinced her to sit still and let her draw a 5-minute charcoal portrait of her. She’d kept it on her corkboard for a couple of months, then framed it once the two had become attached at the hip, something that seemed to always make the normally-confident Kim bashful.

The party turned out, much to her shock, to be nothing like the college ragers she’d always seen in movies. As much as Charlotte didn’t want to admit it, it was actually kind of enjoyable. It was mostly full of Kim’s friends from the graphic design school — a colorful bunch, and not as sleazy as she was dreading. 45 minutes after istanbul travesti arriving, Kim and Charlotte were sitting in a small room in the basement around a somewhat cold can of beer with cards fanned out in a circle around it.”Your turn to draw,” Derek said, snapping her out of her introspective trance. She pulled a 9 of clubs and carefully inserted it under the tab of the can, without cracking open the seal, despite Kim’s attempts to mess her up by making dumb faces from across the circle.

“9 is… rhymes?” Charlotte said somewhat slowly, despite having been careful not to over-imbibe. Derek was still looking at her, with steel blue eyes and chocolate brown hair tied back into a slightly-messy man bun. His skin was only slightly less pale than hers, and he clearly hit the gym several times a week. He had a bit of a dad bod — not in the way that people sometimes used to refer to just a beer gut, but closer to the “bear” body type, where there was a bit of a gut, but a heaping helping of musculature underneath. All in all, a sultry specimen of a man.

“Suck,” she said, much more lasciviously than she intended while still looking at Derek. Charlotte had a habit of accidentally making innuendo, given her relative sexual inexperience. Both of them suppressed a slight smile. The girl sitting between them said “Tuck”. Then the subject of her accidental staring was up next.

“Fuck.” He said, mostly confidently with the smallest hint of flusteredness.

“Truck?” Kim said, cutely, not wanting to get in between her friend and what was likely the first sexual moment she’d ever had with a stranger at a party — a favor that didn’t go unnoticed by her friend, though she had been hypnotized by some other goth girl’s nearly-head-sized jugs all evening, so she likely had other things on her mind. Kim’s purple-haired design school crush and the scrawny blond guy who’d been keeping mostly to himself chose the innocuous words “shuck” and “muck”, and then it was Char’s turn again. She hesitated, glancing up at the cute guy sitting across from her, turning what she could only surmise was beet-red.

“…..Fuck,” She said, realizing it was a repeat. She blinked in surprise at herself, as she wasn’t even normally one to use foul language. After finishing the bright green jungle juice she’d gotten from an orange barrel-shaped cooler upstairs as penance for losing the rhyme game, she looked up at Derek and felt an electric jolt when she met his pale sapphire eyes. They’d shared a somewhat-innocuous moment earlier when they both nerded out over Greek mythology together, but neither had the social acumen to carry it gracefully beyond that and some musical preferences. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” She said somewhat abruptly, garnering some looks, before getting up and going upstairs to the ground floor.

She hurried upstairs towards the bathroom near the front door, but the handle didn’t budge. “Shoot…” she muttered. She hadn’t lied about wanting to go to the bathroom, but the true reason was to splash water on her face, hopefully cooling her libido down in the process. She didn’t want to have to explain to this man who had her personal ideal physique that she’d only had sex once before, and neither party had cum. Her sex-averse parents found out and had worked double-time to drill the idea into her head that she needed to focus on her studies and THEN find a man. She’d messed around with some guys, but always felt guilty and never let it escalate to sex.

She turned around only to be met face-to-face with Derek.

“There’s actually a bathroom upstairs next to the love shack.” He said. She caught a whiff of his earthy cologne — a hint of cedar or something otherwise woody was a siren’s song, calling her name to bury her face within his defined pectorals that stood at eye level.

“Could you… show me?” She asked — once again sounding more sexual than she intended. Though she had the feeling she had somewhat intended it this time

The aforementioned love shack was the infamous upstairs living room area that was decked out during parties with pink string lights, had a couch, a small tent with numerous pillows, and even a closet for those truly desperate for privacy, and was the ultimate destination for intoxicated horndogs looking to take their transient romances to the next level. The idea mildly repulsed her. In theory, at least.

They walked up the stairs together, and as he motioned her to the bathroom, she stood awkwardly in front of the half-opened door. As she stepped in, she turned around.

“Here’s istanbul travestileri the thing, I was actually just trying to get away after the… whole… fuck…” she trailed off as Derek stepped a little closer. His demeanor was gentle, otherwise, her stranger danger alarms would have been ringing like crazy. He was tall. 6’5″, she guessed — nearly a foot taller. Her heart skipped a beat when he started to talk after a few seconds that felt like an eternity.

“I figured as much.” He said in a whisper that was as smooth as caramel.

Screw it, she thought. I’ve been the straight-laced girl for too long. I deserve to loosen up a little with this… beefcake of a man. Despite them being right next to the love shack, she grabbed his shirt and walked backward, opting for more privacy. He got the memo, shutting and locking it behind him. He flipped off the light, and they were bathed in the salmon glow of a Himalayan salt lamp on the corner of the bathroom counter.

As soon as he turned back towards Charlotte, she threw her hands eagerly around the back of his neck, and wasted no time leaning forward, their lips meeting, his hands meeting themselves on the small of her back. His 5 o’clock shadow gently rubbed against her face as their tender kiss evolved into frenching, then outright snogging. It had been so long since she’d had a real kiss.

His hands began to wander in opposite directions, one to her upper back, pulling her closer, and one on the seat of her yoga pants. A small moan escaped her mouth against his surprisingly soft lips and he smiled. Gentle, yet completely in control. Half of her hated how quickly she’d become utterly helpless for his rugged looks, but the other half of her that felt a throbbing through his dark blue jeans decided she didn’t care.

As she began to slide her hands back to his front side to unbutton his shirt, she felt his hands reach for the bottom of her shirt. Realizing they were now in a clothing removal battle, they both relented, smiling, and decided to take their own shirts off.

He was fairly muscular with the right amount of padding, which only made him more appealing — the chiseled bodybuilder physique, while impressive, tended to be intimidating, and less comfortable to snuggle up to. Shirtless Derek alone would have sent her loins alight with desire. His not-quite-smug calmness and the way he carried himself drove the point home, to where Charlotte was practically ready to throw herself at him.

“I hope you don’t mind my bluntness, but you’re really fucking sexy.” He said, his voice reverberating gently in the bathroom, its ensuing silence punctuated only by the thumping bass of a pop song downstairs. His bluntness did catch her off guard, but her heart fluttered at the fact that she had managed to evoke such a reaction in such an attractive man. Her boobs weren’t the first thing people usually noticed about her, and her butt wasn’t particularly curvy, but her petite frame and hourglass waist were undeniably attractive on the whole — her personal cute brand of sexy that she’d tried to suppress for so long. She kicked off her Uggs, arranging them in the corner so she could strip her pants off, and she relished how closely he watched her.

“You’re… really sexy, too.” She had unhooked her bra and draped it on the towel rack with her pants making him smile at her meticulousness. She then turned and eyed him up and down.

They approached each other again, kissing again, and as she began to really get into it, the world around her moved down as he suddenly picked her up with the ease one might take a backpack out of their car. “O-oh… hi, there…” Her legs wrapped around him, kissing and moaning as he walked forward, seating her on the bathroom counter. She yelped due to the coldness of the countertop against her bare butt.

“Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely, glancing down at the small cross necklace still on her neck.

“Yeah, just… keep going,” Charlotte said, breathily, their eyes now level with each other. Suddenly, she felt a jolt of panic due to her years of her parents’ fearmongering about sex. “Do you have a condom?”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, Charlotte.” He smirked but wasted no time in grabbing a condom from his pocket. He seemed to detect her unease though, setting the condom on the counter. “You know… we don’t have to do this,” he said, completely genuinely, his arms on her waist gently.

Charlotte’s heart felt like it was about to melt then and there. Sexy, attentive, AND respectful? She grabbed travesti istanbul the condom and quickly opened it, handing it to Derek. “If you don’t do me now, I’ll never forgive you.” She said, teasingly, before biting her lip at the idea, wondering if she was ready.

He laughed silently, pulling both his pants and boxer briefs down simultaneously, revealing, by far, the biggest penis she’d ever seen, not that she’d seen many, especially not in real life. In real life, even 9-inch dicks are nearly vanishingly rare. But his was easily that, if not longer. It was smooth and symmetrical, with a single blue vein visible on the left side. “Oh. My god.”

“Yeah?” He said, almost looking surprised at her reaction.”It’s actually… wow, yeah.” He said, looking down, still seeming surprised, but smiling devilishly. “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”

She arched her back to aid Derek in the removal of her pale pink panties after he’d put the condom on. He smiled, possibly at the little red bow that adorned her underwear, or possibly that she’d soaked completely through. He tossed them to the floor as she put a knee on either side of his hips, covering her own mouth as he entered her, bracing herself by putting her other hand on his shoulder.

He went slowly at first, as promised, making sure she was okay, sometimes with words, sometimes just with facial expressions. They kissed, deeply, his hands gently touching the pale skin of her small breasts that were currently covered in goosebumps. His fingertips ran through her hair as he pulled all the way out, then went back in once more. She could tell how pent-up he was by how heavily it was throbbing inside her, and she could feel herself do the equivalent, rhythmically squeezing his manhood with her pussy. “Oh, Derek…” She moaned, trying not to be too loud, which was a futile battle. She leaned back on one hand and used the other to touch her clit which had been aching for touch since they shut the bathroom door. She moaned and sighed as his massive dick tested her limits, slowly picking up speed, while Charlotte stimulated herself, which was something that she at least had some experience with. Derek being inside of her gave her a feeling of fullness that she’d never truly experienced before, and she could feel herself becoming intoxicated, addicted, to the feeling of this man inside her. It felt better by the second. Like she was being stretched more… and more…

“Oh, god… oh god, Derek, I’m cumming already,” she moaned loudly, her mussed-up auburn hair covering her face as her plump lips formed an “O”. The first orgasm anyone had ever directly given her explosively took over her whole body and mind, and his muscular hand caught her head from leaning back and hitting the mirror as she nearly lost consciousness from the climax. As her throbbing pelvic muscles tightened up around his pulsating length, she reached around him with her free hand, and her fingers dug into his back. He let out a breathy groan as he kept going, her slit tightening more and more around him. He gently thrust in and out, his hand cradling the back of her head gently, fingers woven into her hair. Her cross necklace bounced against her chest as he picked up speed.

“Ohh god, Derek, YES!” She said as she felt his throbbing intensifying, her pussy feeling tighter and tighter around his massive manhood. It was beginning to progress beyond a comfortable stretch, becoming almost painful. She thought about asking him to stop, but she was beginning to understand the phrase “hurt so good” — she saw stars, first out of a dull pain, but then out of pleasure as his fingers stroked her scalp, allowing her to relax with his disarming gentleness. He slowed down when he saw her wince and continued to slide smoothly in and out. She could feel herself being pushed over that delightful edge once more, approaching a second orgasm barely a couple of minutes after the first.

Derek’s heavy breathing became more vocal as her pussy clenched around him again, her moans likely loud enough to alert the rest of the house as to their activities, with neither of them caring. His fingers clenched a fistful of her hair, his other hand gripping her waist, as his cock twitched and spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his warm seed, his low, growling moan reverberating her body deep to her core. When she regained the rest of her consciousness, she began to wonder if it was possible for someone to cum so much in her that she’d feel full. After gently kissing for a minute while their breathing slowed, he pulled out, his dick looking even bigger than Charlotte remembered, and she moaned softly as he withdrew. Charlotte saw a rope of cum stretching from her to him, then noticed more of it oozing onto the counter and the sound of dripping onto the floor. The condom had broken.

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