Billy Ch. 01byopenyoureyes©
When I met Kieran I was a sophomore in college, and I really hadn't had what I'd call a truly satisfying sexual experience with a man. I'd dated a lot of guys, and gone all the way with a few, but I don't know if had to do with their technique, or the chemistry not being right, or what, but I'd never had a real orgasm during sex. Part of the problem was that the guys I was with tended to come so quickly that I barely even got a chance to get heated up. They always apologized, and said it didn't normally happen, and it was because I was so beautiful and they were so excited to be with me, etc., but the next time, it would often be the same thing.
I didn't start dating Kieran because I thought things would be different with him, exactly. If anything, I had decided not to go all the way, and to really get to know a guy and take it slow. Guys were always hitting on me, asking me out, even borderline stalking me, and even with the nicer ones, it just seemed like they were so sex-obsessed that I couldn't even figure out if there was really something there or not. Basically, it seemed like they all wanted to have sex with me, and would say anything -- even believing it, sometimes -- to try to make that happen.
So with Kieran, I was upfront about the fact that I wanted to take it really slow. I'd said that with other guys, and found out they got impatient quickly, so I really wanted to make sure he got it. He said he did, and I believed him.
Kieran was really a quality guy. He wasn't a "bad boy" or an arrogant athlete like some of my other boyfriends had been. He was patient with me, and I really believed he liked me for me. Of course, we kissed and stuff, and I could definitely tell he got aroused when we did, but I was pretty firm with my "rules." As far as "petting" went, I told him my erogenous zones were all off limits -- because I knew, from experience, that when I got triggered by being touched or kissed on certain parts of my body, all my thoughts about going slow might go out the window.
Of course, he didn't love this, especially when he realized, early on, that that included my breasts -- that he wasn't going to touch me there, and I wasn't going to take my top off -- or at least would make him stop at my bra. This was hard for me, too, but I really felt like I was doing the right thing. But sure, it was probably harder for him.
I guess I should tell you a little bit about what I look like. I'm notoriously critical of my looks, but I guess it's safe to say I'm not hideous. When I was in high school my mom got me into pageants, and I was a runner up for Miss Teen Georgia. I also got voted homecoming queen my sophomore year, which I guess was a really unusual thing, but it was more trouble than it was worth, because a lot of the girls kind of turned against me -- and I took myself out of the running my last two years.
People occasionally told me I should try modeling. Sometimes men would stop me on the street or in restaurants, giving me their card and telling me they were "in the business," but I was like, "whatever," and didn't really trust it. Plus I wasn't that interested in what seemed like a superficial way to make a living.
Honestly, I got tired of guys staring at me, following me, chatting me up for no apparent reason, and didn't really want to create more of that. Don't get me wrong -- it was nice at times, the attention I got from guys -- if it was the right guys. And I was aware I would be treated differently from other girls -- by certain male teachers in high school, for instance. Especially when I dressed to look my best.
Which is something I usually do. I like to look pretty, and for the most part I'm proud of my body (I spend enough time in the gym, I should get to show it off!). And I like at times to wear form-fitting or revealing clothes, depending on the situation.
Of course, this didn't make matters any easier for poor Kieran. We always had warm weather at school, so I dressed accordingly. I might wear a loose jacket or yoga pants when I walked across campus -- it's just less hassle -- but when we'd hang out in the dorm, you'd be more likely to find me in little boy shorts and a t-shirt. With a bra, of course -- I'm not looking to create a scandal -- but still, Kieran would tell me it was torture to look at me in some tight top with a hint of bare belly showing -- and know that for the most part, my body was "off limits."
I admit that I got lucky, somehow -- I don't know why. I'm one of those rare girls who finds it easy to stay slim and tight -- although the crunches and cardio help bring out the hint of stomach muscles that wouldn't be there on their own. But at the same time, I have a pretty full rack. C cups, actually, and that's without surgery, thank you very much. I have a long torso and my breasts sit pretty high on my chest, and I guess you could say they attract attention. Or they can, depending on how I dress.
I actually think my legs are my best feature -- long (I'm 5'7"), slender, and toned from years of dance lessons -- and certainly when I strap on wedges or pumps, or cross my legs while wearing shorts or a short skirt, I can sense that I'm having an impact on men in the vicinity.
But my upper body kind of stops traffic more. Kieran sometimes got a thrill out of walking across campus a few steps behind me, while I'm wearing a tight t-shirt or something, and watching how guys stare, and turn their heads after they pass -- and sometimes even chase after and start talking to me.
I think it's kind of silly and borderline annoying, but Kieran loves the pride of knowing I'm "his" at such moments, and so once in a while I'll indulge him. It's the least I can do -- after all, I'm not putting out!
I guess having long blonde hair helps ensure that I get noticed by guys from a distance, but I like to think I am better looking close up, and when you get to know me. They say beautiful faces tend to include large eyes and a large mouth, plus good skin, high cheekbones, and symmetry -- and I've been blessed with all of those. I suppose if I had blue eyes that would complete the picture you're probably forming as you read this, but -- sorry to disappoint you -- my eyes are brown. But they are big, and I think they're pretty. But I have to admit guys don't tend to stare into them as their first option -- unless maybe I'm wearing a parka or something.
I was definitely not wearing a parka the first time I met the second of Kieran's two suite mates at his dorm. After a few drinks and a long makeout session in the common room that he shares with two other guys, one night, Kieran practically begged me to sleep over. I wasn't that hard to convince, as I was tired, enjoying his company -- and the kissing, of course -- and have to admit I'm not the closest of friends with my own roommates, one of whom I share a bunk bed with.
Kieran had lucked into getting a bedroom to himself -- while the other two guys in the suite had to share the other one. Still, he only had a twin bed, and I knew I'd probably have to fight him off with a stick if we slept in the same bed together, but perhaps against my better judgment, I agreed. I would have to break my own normal rule about always having a bra on, because there was no way I was going to sleep in one. But my cotton tank top and shorts were plenty comfortable enough for sleeping. I waited until the lights were out to slip out of the bra -- no reason to torture the poor boy -- and climbed into bed with him behind me, spooning me.
Of course he was hard, and I could feel it against my leg. Up to this point, I'd never seen his penis, but it felt like had the usual size and shape. I felt bad for him. His arms were around me, and he was being so careful not to even graze my breasts, or wander below my waist. I had to admit that the closeness (added to the drinks and the kissing from before) had me buzzing a little, but I wanted to be a good girl, and keep to my plan. We'd only been together a few weeks -- definitely not long enough to count as "taking it really slow." But there was no reason, I decided, that I couldn't give him a little relief.
I wish I could have seen his expression when I asked him if he wanted a hand job. He was silent for a long beat before he said "Yeah. Okay!" I didn't know if it was kind of an insult or a sad compromise, but I figured an orgasm was an orgasm, and what the hell. He had his shorts off before I could say another word, so I guess he saw things the same way!
"Can we turn the light on?" he asked, in such a sweet little voice, as my hand began to slide down his stomach toward his private area.
I decided I might as well make it as nice as I could for him. I trusted Kieran. I really didn't think he'd try to push things further. So I flipped on the light.
Of course his eyes went straight to my braless chest, which my white t-shirt gripped pretty tightly. I was getting turned on, and my nipples were poking through the fabric, and I'm sure creating quite a sight for him.
As for me, I was focused on his cock, which I was relieved to see looked pretty normal and functional -- probably about five to six inches long, nothing painful to accommodate (yes, I was thinking ahead to after we stopped taking things slow). As he felt my delicate fingers wrap around it for the first time, his whole body jerked. God, was he pent up! I tickled and stroked it with a light, slow touch, which seemed to be doing the trick. He was breathing super fast and heavy, sitting there propped up against the headboard, his eyes taking in my body hungrily, but keeping his hands to his sides.
"You like how I look with no bra on?" I teased, taking my free hand and cupping one of my breasts with it.
That was all he needed. He let out a huge groan, and the cum started pouring onto my hand. It started with a little jerk that flew onto the sheet, but the rest just kind of dripped down onto my fingers and wrist. When I was sure he was done, I removed my hand, and pulled it up toward my mouth. This was naughty, I know, and probably not nice. I acted like I was about to lick it off my hand -- extending my tongue toward it -- but then using his underwear to wipe my hand clean.
"Sorry, was that cruel?" I asked, knowing how much guys are into having girls taking their cum in their mouths. (Yes, I've had some experience with that -- can we just leave it there?)
"No, not at all..." he practically gushed, SO grateful for what I'd just done.
I gave him what I hoped was my most dazzling smile and said, "You are very welcome. And if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna wash my hands now."
It was after two in the morning, so I really thought I'd be able to sneak through the common living room area to the suite's nice little bathroom without being seen by anyone, so I didn't bother putting my bra back on.
But wouldn't you know it, the one of Kieran's two roommates that I hadn't met yet (the other was a sweet geeky guy who could barely seem to speak around me) happened to be coming in from the hall, at the very moment I emerged from Kieran's bedroom in my braless state.
The first thing I noticed about Billy was his eyes -- they were kind of a sparkling dark blue, piercing you might say, and as he came in the door they flashed in surprise at the sight of me, caught there in no man's land on the way to the bathroom. I guess the second thing I noticed was his smile, which was wide, bright and winning as he took a moment to drink me in.
I just kind of gave a very quick, embarrassed wave as I scurried off to the bathroom, where I took a few minutes to wash my hands, adjust my hair, and otherwise kill time, hoping that when I came back out, he'd have gone off to his bedroom, and I could return to Kieran without incident.
But of course, he hadn't. He was sitting on the couch with the TV on, playing a video game with the sound off. Oh, and he was shirtless.
That's right, in the few moments while I was hiding out in the bathroom, he'd planted himself on the couch where he'd get another gander at me when I came out, and he just happened to doff his t-shirt.
"Hey," he said. "Billy." He stood up. "Want to play?" He was holding an extra video game controller, offering it in my direction. As if!
But I didn't say anything at first, too struck by his appearance. It was now impossible not to really notice the guy, with the view he was offering of his shirtless torso. First of all, he was tall -- probably about 6'4". Secondly, he was built like a God -- completely ripped, and just gorgeously muscular -- from his huge shoulders, chest and upper arms down to his shredded eight-pack. It kind of took my breath away for a second. I'm sure that was the desired effect.
Now I'd been with some guys with really nice physiques, and I guess you could say I have a weakness for muscles. And he was probably both bigger and more cut than any guy I'd ever been with. Of course, they have to be on the right guy, but they're certainly a bonus. Kieran had a nice body, by the way, and was a handsome guy. Kind of slim, about 5'10", and definitely didn't have a weight-lifter's torso. Billy probably outweighed him by sixty pounds -- and from the looks of things, every ounce of it was muscle.
"Um, I think I'll pass..." was about all I could say. He just stood there, kind of smirking at me, clearly just showing off his body. I guess with some girls, that worked. I had to ask him: "So, you come home and just tear off your shirt in the first sixty seconds?"
"I don't know, it just seemed kind of warm in here," he grinned.
I couldn't help taking another gander at his chiseled upper body before beginning my trek back to Kieran. "What do you, work out six hours a day?" was about the cleverest thing I could think of to say.
"If you want to get the really hot girls, it helps to stand out," he said. "But you're probably not so easily impressed."
I wasn't going to dignify his obviously inappropriate flirting with a response. But as I noticed his eyes drift openly to my chest, I realized that my nipples were like two bullets tenting my cotton tank top. Had they gotten hard again just from looking at his muscles? I tried to tell myself that I was still aroused from what Kieran and I had done, but some part of me knew that wasn't the case. I quickly folded my arms to cover them.
He grinned: "Or maybe you are. Anyway, there's space on the couch, and I could use a partner here..."
"I think I'll be getting back to my boyfriend now."
"Huh. That's weird. I keep thinking I'm catching him checking me out. Maybe I'm imagining it. Or he's bi. Anyway... good luck with that."
Oh my God, what an asshole! I was burning with irritation at this cocky jerk as I let myself back into Kieran's room. He was asleep, but he stirred as I got back into bed.
"What's up," he said groggily.
"Your roommate is kind of an asshole."
"Apparently I just met Billy."
"Oh." He didn't sound pleased. "What happened? What did he say?"
"Nothing, it doesn't matter. Let's go to sleep."
He wrapped his arms back around me and happily complied.
But I had trouble sleeping. I imagined Billy still sitting out there with his shirt off, just hoping and waiting for me to come back out and throw myself at him, like I'm sure skanks across campus happily were doing. I mean, yes, he was pretty amazing looking, physically. There was no denying it. But what a jerk, to say those things about my boyfriend.
Eventually, I fell asleep.
In the morning, Kieran overslept and had to race off to class, leaving me to let myself out. Thinking the other roommates were also gone -- their bedroom door was open, and nobody in there -- I decided I might grab a quick shower. I knocked on the bathroom door and waited a moment, just to make sure. No one answered.
Carefully, I tiptoed in -- only to discover that the shower was running, and guess who was in there, with the curtain halfway open? You guessed it. Mr. Arrogant. I tried not to look, but for some reason, my eyes flashed down for a moment to his crotch. He was soft, but clearly swinging some pretty hefty -- and lengthy -- pipe.
In the split second as I registered this, he noticed me, and rather than pull the shower curtain shut for modesty, he turned slightly to face me more full-on. "The water's warm," he grinned. He looked at me for a moment, in my underwear, and I couldn't help but notice his cock start to stir. "You can join me if you want."
"Yeah, no thanks," I said, covering my eyes, and rushing to the sink to find my toothbrush and get out of there.
"God, I never thought I'd say it, but I envy Kieran," Billy said.
Was he really trash talking my boyfriend that brazenly? I glanced at him one more time, as I sped for the door. He was practically staring a hole through me -- and his cock was rising and lengthening in a hurry. I tried not to stare -- I didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction -- but it was hard not to do a double take at his size. The guy was massive. And he wasn't even all the way hard yet.
I got the hell out of there in a hurry.
The rest of that day, though, I found myself thinking about him. I mean, who cares if he's got a big cock? I've had guys of various sizes -- some smaller than Kieran, some bigger. The biggest guy I'd slept with had been painful at times, and certainly no better than the smaller guys. And it was pretty obvious that Billy could put him to shame. I was curious -- that's what I told myself. Who wouldn't be?
I tried to put Billy out of my head, but the next night, I found myself asking Kieran about him. What was his deal? Kieran clearly didn't want to talk about him. All he would say is that he was in the school on some kind of athletic scholarship, and they weren't really friends.
I was curious if he had a girlfriend -- just curious, girls are like that -- but I knew how it would sound if I asked. Instead, I just asked if he came home most nights at such late hours. Kieran said he did often, and also didn't come home at all fairly frequently. At times, he brought girls home, and Jared (the third roommate) found himself sacking out on the couch to get some privacy.
Another makeout session with Kieran -- in the bed this time, but with my usual rules -- led to another hand job. As I was giving it, I found myself wondering what such a big cock was like, and whether some girls were really into the size. I mean, I was certainly curious, though I would never want Billy (or Kieran) to know. But I had to admit, as I excused myself to go the bathroom to wash my hands again, I was a little tingly at the thought of running into Billy again.
He wasn't in the living room and his door was closed, but as I stood at the sink in the bathroom -- this time in a t-shirt of Kieran's -- I heard the door open, and it was Billy entering. Wearing only boxers. My eyes flashed at the view of him in the mirror. He stopped to return my gaze, standing behind me. God he was big, and god that body was jaw-dropping. His legs were as extravagantly muscled as his upper body.
"You again," he said. "Couldn't get enough of me?"
"Yeah, something like that," I stammered, a bit intimidated about being alone in the bathroom -- his bathroom -- with him.
"I'll let you have some privacy. I just wanted to say -- sorry if I came on a little strong. I can be an asshole sometimes."
"That's okay, I was just leaving," I said curtly, turning now to face him, but heading for the door.
"You've got a really nice body," he said, looking me up and down shamelessly.
"Is that how you talk to girls that are dating your friends?"
"He's not my friend. He's my roommate. And just so you know, if we each wanted the same thing, it would be every man for himself."
"Good to know. But Kieran and I have something special."