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  It didn’t matter that I had just graduated college and still actually still a virgin. I was my living with Lucy so obviously, I was a crazy as her. Suddenly all the amazing closet space didn’t seem worth the endless comments.

  Thank goodness I had Mira to drag me out of the house, though my pounding head wasn’t thanking her now.

  My phone buzzed from the bedside table, and I thanked the foresight that had made me put it on silent. Squinting at the screen I saw a few texts from Mira.

  OMG R U ALIVE?

  Fuck vodka, I’m never drinking again.

  Did ur roommate’s man kill you? He looked pissed!

  My eyes widened and I sat straight up in bed, wincing at the sudden movement the memories came flooding back to my fuzzy brain.

  ***

  “BODY SHOTS!”

  Mira and I had walked into the frat party to the sight of eager sorority girls lining up to have the frat brothers lick warm tequila out of their belly buttons. I didn’t see the appeal, but a cute blond dragged Mira away and a minute later she was on her back on a table with a sticky lime wedge in her mouth and a line of salt across her abs.

  I don’t know what possessed Mira to drag me out to a frat party six months after we’d graduated, but free alcohol and cute guys should get us a passably fun night. Though I had zero intention of letting anyone lick tequila off me.

  “Not as much of an exhibitionist as your friend, hm?” I turned around to see another one of the frat brothers handing me a red plastic cup of “punch.” The usual mix of the cheapest vodka and whatever flavor of Gatorade was on sale, it was pretty terrible but I still downed most of the glass before introducing myself.

  “I’m Marion.”

  "Matt." He was drinking a beer, and he seemed nice. Normal. Appropriate.

  Not my roommate’s husband.

  That's right. I was absolutely head over heels, in lust with Duncan, despite how he drove me crazy. The attraction crept up on me. One day bickering with Duncan stopped being annoying and started being arousing. Instead of being disgusted that his marriage to Lucy was such a trainwreck, I was glad.

  But just because their marriage wasn’t real didn’t mean I had a chance with him.

  So I was left to fantasize. And fantasize I did. I was amazed I hadn't given myself carpal tunnel, but I couldn't help it. Duncan would look at me and my panties would be absolutely dripping. I’d spend my nights with my hand inside my panties, sliding my fingers inside the tight channel of my pussy with my bedroom door unlocked, hoping and dreading that he might come in and catch me.

  I was tired of living in a fantasy and tired of being a virgin. Matt seemed cute enough. Tossing back the rest of the punch, I smiled widely at him. “Want to get me another?” I asked, sweetly. “Then maybe we can go up to your room and talk.”

  Spoiler alert – no one goes to frat parties for conversation.

  Matt's lips curled into a smile, and he steered me towards the blue plastic bin that was serving as a "punch bowl." Refilling my cup, he took my hand and lead me upstairs. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mira give me a thumbs up before another frat guy licked the salt off her stomach.

  Matt pushed open one of the doors and I followed him into the dimly lit room. A string of white Christmas lights wrapped around the door frame set the mood, and two cups of trash can punch I'd knocked back were starting to hit me. I sat down on the bed, and Matt sat right next to me, drawing me into a kiss without saying another word.

  Right to the point. I like it.

  Matt's lips were soft and full, and through the haze of the alcohol and the darkness of the room, I could let myself pretend it was Duncan. Matt wasn't wasting any time. I felt his hand travel lower, sliding under my shirt to cup my breast over my bra. His nimble fingers pulled the cup down and his thumb brushed over my nipple, tightening it to a hard peak.

  “You like that?” he asked, breaking away from my lips, his voice husky. He shifted on the bed and I could see that he was already hard in his jeans, the zipper stretched by his erection.

  “Mmmm yeah, I’m getting wet already.”

  Matt pinched my nipple a bit harder, squeezing the round globe of my breast until I let out a moan. “Let’s see how wet I can get you.”

  Matt’s hand left my breast and went lower. As he unzipped my jeans, I wondered if I really wanted to lose my virginity like this after holding onto it for so long, but I was beyond caring at this point. I was 22 with a pointless crush on my roommate’s husband. A cute boy felt me up under my bra and my panties were drenched because this was already the farthest I’d gone with anyone. I was sick of being a good girl.

  Matt had my jeans open and his hand slid down the front of my panties, his fingers tracing along the seam of my pussy before spreading apart my lips.

  “You’re so wet,” Matt said. “Do you like it when I do this?” His finger found my clit and he started rubbing it in circles.

  I gasped, and I could already feel the explosion rising up in me. “Yes!” I moaned, letting my eyes slip shut as I imagined the fingers between my legs belonged to Duncan.

  Matt pushed my jeans and panties down to my knees, giving his hand more room to move. “That’s right,” he whispered. “Let me see that sweet pussy.” I spread my legs as wide as the denim tangled around my knees would let me, and I felt Matt push a finger inside my pussy. “Damn, you’re so fucking tight. You’re going to feel so good around my dick.”

  In my head, it was Duncan’s finger stretching my pussy and Duncan telling me that I’d feel so good around his cock. My eyes slipped open, and I stared at the doorway. Matt hadn’t bothered to close the door all the way, and anyone could walk by and get an eyeful of me with my legs spread open, but teetering on the edge of orgasm, I was way too far gone to care.

  Until I saw him.

  Matt’s thumb pressed against my clit again, and I was gone, rocketing into orgasm while my pussy clenched around the finger he had inside me. My hips bucked upwards as I rode out my orgasm, and in that pleasure-soaked moment I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not, but Duncan was standing right in the doorway, watching this boy make me come.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” I heard Matt say, and I realized that I wasn’t the only one seeing the angry man who had walked into the room.

  “Duncan?” I stammered.

  “Fuck, you have a boyfriend?” Matt yanked his hands abruptly from my body and fled the room before I had a chance to correct him, looking like he hoped to lose himself in the crowd.

  I can’t blame him for being freaked out. Duncan didn’t look like a guy you wanted to cross. Well over six feet tall, Duncan was all hard muscle. He spent his weekends on deadlifts and squats, so every part of him looked like it was carved from marble.

  And he looked pissed.

  “Pull up your pants,” he ordered.

  One thing Duncan definitely didn’t look was embarrassed. If he’d had any concerns about making things even more awkward between us he would have been looking anywhere but me. After all, my panties and jeans were still down around my knees, leaving my pussy exposed, the lips glistening with my juices and swollen from my recent orgasm. But he definitely wasn’t avoiding me.

  He wasn’t embarrassed.

  He was looking.

  I glanced lower, and I couldn’t help smiling. He wasn’t just looking. He was hard.

  I stood up, pulling my jeans up enough that I could walk properly, but not enough to fully cover myself. Instead, I walked closer to him until I stood about a foot away. Duncan’s eyes were riveted between my legs to where he could still see my bare pussy.

  “Get dressed,” he ordered, his voice sounding a lot less sure than it had a moment ago.

  “No,” I said, and dropped to my knees.

  I was face to face with Duncan’s crotch, and there was no hiding how hard he was. His cock strained against his zipper, and before Duncan’s brain could catch up with his body I tugged down the zipper.

  Duncan groaned loudly as the
pressure was taken off his cock. And what a cock it was. He wasn’t wearing anything at all under his jeans, and the erection that thrust out of the open zipper was easily nine inches and incredibly thick.

  Between my legs, my pussy clenched at the idea of that monster going inside me. Not wanting to break the spell, I silently lowered my head and took Duncan’s cock into my mouth.

  “Fuck!” he growled, his voice deep and guttural with arousal. I’d never touched a cock before, let alone had one inside my mouth, plus I was more than a little drunk, but what I lacked in skill I more than made up for in enthusiasm.

  At first, all I did was suck on the head. My lips were stretched around the girth, and I flicked my tongue around it, tasting every inch of the mushroom shaped head before trying to take more inside.

  Duncan’s hands found their way into my hair, and he pushed me down slowly. “That’s right, baby,” he purred. “Take it in. Suck it good.”

  I moaned around his cock. I barely had half of his erection in my mouth, but I knew I couldn't take anymore, at least not yet. Tentatively, I tried to take more of him into my throat, but I gagged as he hit the back of my throat and backed off.

  I felt Duncan’s hand brush my shoulder and he pushed the strap of my tank top down, taking my bra strap with it. His hand cupped my breast, pulling the cup of my bra down to bare my hard nipple to his view. He rolled it between his fingers and I moaned around his cock again.

  “Touch that pretty pussy,” he groaned, his voice tight. “Touch yourself for me.”

  I didn't need to be told twice. I brought one hand between my legs, parting my swollen lips and finding that little bundle of nerves. Between the orgasm with Matt and finally living out my fantasy with Duncan, I was absolutely dripping between my legs. I'd probably have to spill a beer on myself before I left to hide it because I was pretty sure I'd soaked all the way through my jeans.

  I sucked harder on Duncan's cock as I played with myself. I could feel Duncan's eyes all over me like he didn't know if he wanted to stare at my breast, my fingers in my pussy, or my lips stretched around his cock.

  I felt a taste of salt across my tongue, and virgin or not, I knew what that meant. “Fuck Marion, I’m going to come,” Duncan warned. He started to pull back, no doubt intending to blow his load on the floor instead of filling my mouth, but there was no way I was going to let that happen.

  Instead, I sucked harder and Duncan grunted in pleasure as the taste of his salty come exploded across my tongue. The realization that Duncan was coming in my mouth had my second orgasm of the night hitting me like a freight train. I sobbed in pleasure around Duncan's dick as I swallowed as much as I could.

  When I felt Duncan’s cock slip from my lips, I slumped back on my heels, boneless with pleasure. A few pearly drops of his come clung to my lips and I licked them away.

  “Marion,” Duncan said, looking just as dazed as I felt. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of a few more drunk students coming up the stairs brought him back to the present.

  Duncan helped me to my feet, straightening my shirt and tucking his cock away while I finally pulled up my jeans. He lead me out of the room and down the stairs. I kept my head down, trying to look the part of the embarrassed girl getting dragged out of a frat party by an angry boyfriend while inside I was cheering.

  I caught Mira’s eye from where she was getting felt up in the corner by that same blond senior. Sorry, I mouthed. I’d make something up tomorrow.

  ***

  I ran my fingertips over my lips, unable to keep from smiling at the realization that the weird salty taste in my mouth was because last night Duncan had come in my mouth.

  I searched my memory for anything else, wondering just why I was waking up alone and, after a quick mental assessment of my pussy, still a virgin. I guess I had passed out in the car and Duncan poured me into bed.

  Fucking vodka.

  I stumbled out of bed for the second time and dragged myself into the shower, letting the warm water clear my head as I relived the pleasure I’d given and received last night. I could feel the heat already between my legs, and I glanced at my detachable showerhead before deciding against it. The next orgasm I had was going to come from Duncan.

  After all, it was only fair. I’d made both of us come last night. It was his turn to pleasure me.

  ***

  After a shower and some clean clothes, I felt so much more human. I dressed myself in a tank top and a pair of soft cotton shorts, cute and just a little bit sexy. I did skip the bra though, and the air conditioning had my nipples poking through the thin cotton like little bullets.

  Duncan was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee. Silently, he got up and poured me a cup, adding a splash of cream just the way I liked it.

  The caffeine chased away the last dregs of the hangover, and if it wasn't for the taste I'd woken up with in my mouth, I'd almost think I had dreamed it all.

  Until Duncan spoke up.

  “I know, I shouldn’t want you as much as I do. Open marriage or not, I’m still married to your roommate. You’re still so much younger than me.” Duncan’s eyes were burning into me, and I knew my own reflected his same hunger.

  “All I could think of when I saw that boy touching you was how much I wanted to be him in that moment." Duncan shook his head at the thought. "A stupid twenty-year-old frat boy and I wished I was him because he was lucky enough to have his hand between your legs." Duncan shifted in his chair, reaching down to adjust himself as he hardened at the memory.

  “You looked so beautiful. Your head was thrown back and you were just. . . lost in the pleasure. I could smell how wet you were, even over all the cheap beer and godawful cologne in that place. I could smell how much pleasure he was giving you, and then when you came- I wanted to be the one bringing you all that pleasure.”

  My coffee cup sat beside my hand, forgotten as I watched Duncan relive that moment.

  “I was thinking of you,” I said, speaking up for the first time. “When he was touching me, I was pretending he was you. When I touch myself, I pretend it’s you. It’s always been you, Duncan.”

  Duncan groaned loudly, pressing the heel of his hand against his cock. “Fuck, why does it turn me on so much when you say my name? Hearing you say my name shouldn’t make me so hard I almost split my pants.”

  I stood up and walked to the other side of the table and, sure enough, the grey track pants Duncan was wearing were stretched by his cock. Smirking just a little bit, I climbed onto his lap, not bothering to hide a moan as his erection pressed against my core.

  “Keep talking,” I said. “I like hearing these things.” I rocked my hips gently against his, shivering as his erection bumped against my clit. “I like that me talking to you makes you hard.”

  “It’s been difficult hiding it lately,” Duncan added, pulling my tank top over my head and dropping it on the kitchen table behind me. “Much better.” He pinched one nipple and then the other, bringing them to stiff little peaks while I rocked myself on his erection. “I’ve felt like a damn teenager lately. Always getting hard at the most inconvenient times. You’d walk into the room in one of those little dresses you always wear, and I’d be rock hard. You’d say my name, and I’d be fighting to not come in my pants.”

  “Like now?” I purred, swiveling my hips as I desperately tried to get more friction on my aching clit.

  “Just like that!” Duncan held me tightly, his large hands nearly spanning my small waist as I rocked against him. “I’m addicted to you, Marion. I give in. Anything you ask me for, it’s yours.”

  I sat back just a bit, letting Duncan take in the sight of me, naked from the waist up, my juices already soaking through the thin fabric of my shorts as I rubbed myself off against his erection.

  “I want you to be my first.”

  "Fuck!" Duncan roared in pleasure as his hips snapped upward, actually lifting my feet off the ground with the force of his thrust as he came. I kept moving
against him, his cock dragging against my clit through the two thin layers of cotton, and a few moments later I was writhing in pleasure on top of him.

  When we had both caught our breath, Duncan spoke up. "Did you mean that? Are you really a virgin?"

  I nodded, feeling suddenly shy despite everything we’d already shared. “Last night was as far as I’d gotten with any guy.” My cheeks flushed hotly as I continued. “Before last night, I’d only ever kissed. And touched myself, of course.”