Crashing Into Me

"They say the first time ain't the greatest …" - Prince

I saw him on campus a few times last semester. A Greek god with dark hair and pale green eyes that reminded me Panama City's gulfwaters. There were always pretty women around him - they all looked like clones of each other: padded bras, flat asses, tiny waists. I was envious. I cannot compete on their field. But, that means that they cannot compete on mine. I am smart, sensual, a caramel princess with every beautiful curve of womanhood.

Kenneth Cole. Known as KC by the satellite women that gravitate around him. He had become a star this season on the varsity soccer team and reaped the rewards bestowed upon by sorority girls. He fucked everyone of them. I can understand that, if I were being "attacked" by gorgeous frat boys, I would NOT be offended at all!

So, I had to enter his life another way, as his philosophy study partner. We were hitting it hard every night, that week for finals. When I met him at the library Friday night, he suggested a six pack and a bit of distraction.

He was an older man (23) and I was being oh-so-charmingly-innocent (18), I did not make much of his wide-eyed expression when he draped his thick arm over my shoulder and escorted out the door.

During that spring semester, he went from hugs to friendly pecks on my cheeks - I suppose those were his tests for me...he wanted to see how far this proud virgin would let him go; how far I would fall. All the way, baby.

He had this small smile all night, like he knew a secret about me. After 3 hours of 19th century philosophy, we (he) decided to take a break, at midnight, in Seneca Park. "Toni, come here." He had climbed up the oak tree that provide shade to the homeplate in the middle of the field. KC called me from the low branch he sat on. I did not want to seem unfeminine, climbing a tree in a dark moist morning of late April, but he called me, so I went. This was my final test.

Frightened of the height and the nocturnal insects, I clasped his arm and laid my head on his shoulder. "Look at me," he was laughing a bit. His hand cupped my chin and ignored my resistance. He pulled his arm free so that my only security was the firm grip he had of my face. He kissed me hard, almost like he was trying to force me backwards, 5 feet to the ground. The more I struggled to keep myself in the tree, the harder he kissed. Finally, I began to realize that if I did not want to fall, I had to let his control hold me there.

When I gave up my control of me, he became tender. I had this desire to please him. His breathy words began to spill out between filling my mouth with his tongue: how much he wanted me, how badly he needed me; how he thought about me when he was with his "girlfriend" Jennifer; how sexy he thought I was. I could not see it then, but he used my competitiveness and insecurities to seduce me. Some men learn that the keys to unlock a woman's resistance are tender speeches.

He jumped from the tree and motioned for me to follow. In the center of the park, the few drivers that passed on either side were oblivious to us. He began to kiss and lick me: my eyes, cheeks, lips, even ears. Then KC eagerly sucked my neck while his chest pinned me against the tree trunk and his hand struggled to enter my panties past my still button waistband.

I had "wanted" him for a long time, but I never really thought we would get to this point. Too often do schoolgirls fantasize about what would we do with the object of our crushes -- I had let the fantasy become a living trauma. I wanted to stop, or at least slow down. I was getting more scared than excited. Neither of the two guys (boys really) I dated in high school got to even touch my precious pink. Their hands could only get as close as my panties would allow. I got great at giving head to preserve my virginity from horny 17 year olds. Now a man doing what only I had, slipping fingers into my virginal cunny.

I was pretty certain KC would not stop if I started to freak out. My tension was building and was apparent to him. His actions and mood became almost animalistic. A low growl from his chest resonated. I could feel the vibration through the pinch of my skin he held in his teeth. "Ohh god!" I cried out, my knees felt weak and warm, he had clamped down on the muscle. The pain screamed out of my tight throat while he was rolling my clit fiercely with the heel of his hand and untold number of fingertips curls up into my softness - I was coming for the first time without my hand. There was a whirlwind of movements; I was still coming as he yanked my capris down my legs and turned me to face the tree. I was torn. My mind was yelling out in disbelief, my body was shaking and my consciousness felt like it was floating somewhere on the outside, I was unable to move.

There was an awkward stillness. It was like a motion picture moment when you know the killer is stalking his next prey. KC's cock speared into me, hot and dry, tearing away at the small bit of hymen I was intending to save for someone special. The burning hot sensation of my delicate ring widening over his thick shaft radiated waves of prickly heat through me.

In my heart, I was crying, but my body was delirious at the sensation of my first full cock. He was saying something as he pulled at my hips, slamming my ass into his well-toned abs. I could not understand him. There was a time when I struggled to feel, to interpret what was happening. The shock of the force, the pain, and the pleasure was poisoning and addicting.

I felt like I was floating higher. His right hand reached my clitoris, pinching and pulling at the crimson bud. I had not stopped coming the first time but now, it grew beyond anything I had ever felt. I want to cry - to release the tension, but no tears fell.

It was then I became completely enraptured with him, the sight of his pale pole gliding into my dark pinkness, with smell and sensation of sex, even with the awful control he had over me - it was all so very intense.

I crumpled to the hard, knotty tree roots.

His thick flesh still pumping into me; he guided my fall - hovering over my back and digging his fingers into my hips. In my mind, there was this dark pool that I was drowning in, but I could breathe. Everything overwhelmed me.

I could no longer deny that I wanted it, I wanted him to do this to me.

In those few moments, this white jock had accomplished what my buppie (black yuppie) boyfriend had not in a year and a half of dating. This sick perversion was cutting its way into me, mixing with my blood -- changing me forever.

I was writhing, struggling this time to meet him. I felt like I was soaring above our fucking bodies; I could here his heart pounding; I could taste his sweat; I could feel his dick swell and spasm within me.

For that brief moment, he let me control him. As his newest, sweetly fucked convert, I milked his throbbing flesh with my tight swollen puss. We were coming back down from the darkness, back to our skin. In the harmony of our pants, I could not shake the imagery of Bela Lugosi in a classic vampire seduction. I had been irreversibly changed. His darkness was mine now.

Raise up that skirt a little more darling, show the world to me … Crash into me (Dave Matthews band)

I panicked. I was sure everyone could tell that I had been fucked. The next day, I felt like I still could smell him in my skin. The scent was mixing with the scent of my floral shower gel. My freshman crush had changed everything, EVERYTHING, for me. But in class and on campus, KC regarded me with the coolness of a man interested only with my mind.

This all was too new. I could not tell my friends for it kind sounds like rape just writing it down, without the fact that I had a hard time choking back the all of these weird emotions when I said his name. Then I panicked because we did not use birth control, and because the guy I was dating thought I was a virgin. I was until that early Saturday morning.

I tried to follow KC's cool example, but emotionally, I was still falling, crumbling to the ground. I was humiliated and shamed … and he seemed to like it that way.

By the following Saturday night, I thought I could do the unspeakable - cover my ass. At the time, it was the most evil thing that ever came into my head - have sex with my boyfriend, Gary, just in case KC impregnated me. (I was young, stupid and desperate. Yes, stupid, scared, desperate women will fuck you and tell you that its your baby.)

KC had resumed his center-of-the-universe position with the women at school, there was no indication that he even cared that I was a woman he deflowered just days ago. I took one look at him dancing with his "choice" ho's for the night and went to work on Gary.

I had never been more sensual that I was that night -- I had every intention of arousing every man while letting Gary know that it was all for him. My confidence multiplied with every glance and smile from guys who moved my way. Gary was not jealous because he "knew" what a "good girl" I was.

Then, the night started to fall a part fast. He had not mentioned the fading red mark just above my collarbone. (Clothing covered it all week long, but not that night) But as the night wore on, and the makeup wore off, the mark became more apparent. Even through the glassy-eyed-ness of drinking. He had touched it several times, and finally asked, "what the hell is that?"

"What?" I said, touching my neck as though I did not know EXACTLY what or where it was, "oh, the rash, perfume I tried on yesterday." Not my best lie, but it was a good one for the moment.

I wrapped my arms around Gary, licked his ear and asked him if he was ready to go. The beginning of our silent breakup was when he said, "not yet." He had to make a score -- he had all ready paid.

It was then that I noticed KC was sitting at the bar, looking at the dance floor in general, then penetrated me with his glare. Shit, my heart started crying again. I could not break from his stare; then, I did not want to. He had hurt me. I wanted all of my anger and pain to lash out at him through my stare. He did not seem phased.

Gary spotted Chad and went to get his X. That left me alone and KC wasted no time. Right there, he kissed me deeply. I could feel his arms hold me, and for a brief, slight moment, I felt safe.

Then, he spoke, sneered. "Do you think he is watching us? You dance that way for him, hmm?" His voice was harsh, bitterly telling me whatever came to mind. "You are so hot, you know that? Are you trying to make me jealous? Well, you did. So now what? You want us to fight over you? Fuck that." All the while, he's holding me, deeply kissing me; dancing me in circles, moving like we are fucking already. "Does he know that you got fucked by a white boy? You made me so fucking jealous tonight, you know that?" He was angry, seethingly. He said a lot more; he let me know just what he would do, I was terrified. It ended with; "He is not to touch you, Toni. Don't fuck with me on this, ok?"

I could not stand it anymore. What could he do if I won't allow it? I started, "No, Kenneth…" then I lost my nerve. What could I say, I essentially gave it away, the shame was all mine. He could ruin me even more than this sex grind he was doing in front of all of our friends. He stopped, did that fucking hold my chin thing like we were up in that tree and tensed his jaw, "Yes."

He began to pull my skirt up, rubbing my thighs, his fingers on the black sateen band that encircled my waist. He kissed me so hard that my neck arched back. His right hand was clenching my arm the whole time.

Crash into me.

The girls he was dancing with earlier were glaring, and his teammates/friends were staring, practically laughing. "Kenneth, please …" I begged, I felt tears betray me. I did not know what to do. I was literally trembling. It ends up that Chad was a good friend of KC and that he did his part to keep Gary occupied.

I was too "young" to understand the possessiveness of men. Even though KC and I weren't really together, he considered me "his." My tension level finally broke. The tears came faster, then the quiet sobbing.

"Come on." KC took me by the hand out of the place. The guy at the door stopped us, there was a whisper, and then we were outside. He brought me to a shadowy place on the side of the building, and held me without words.

Some time later, Gary came out. I could hear him call my name. I tried to focus on his footsteps, to be forewarned of the discovery. But with the sounds of the music just beyond the wall, and the drunks begging to get inside, I could not tell if he gave up because of what he saw or because he did not see me at all.

Kenneth moved to kiss me again, this time more tenderly than ever. But it did not take long for the passion to build. We were soon in his car. It felt like 80 miles per hour on the streets. He wanted to get me into the frat house before any of the guys got back home.

We said very little, just thank you and your welcome kind of stuff. He took me to his shared bedroom; I removed the mini skirt first. He was completely still; sitting on the bed wide eyed, like a child at Christmas. I did not feel all that sexy, with sticky puffy eyes and uncolored lips, but he did not seem to care. Just the thought made me smile. I stripped for him, and that was all of the foreplay he needed.

He pulled me on top of him, kissing me long and hard, grasping at my ass and rubbing my legs. He had removed his pants and his semi-stiff flesh rubbed against my sensitive lips. I remember feeling embarrassed that my wetness was dripping on his Gap boxers. All of me wanted to feel filled-up again.

He guided me to his left side, raised up, and worked his boxers to his ankles. His cock sprung out to an angle, rigid and long. My hands instinctively wrapped around his thick, hot pole. My tongue reached out to taste the sweet-salty dew. His penis bucked and spasmed inside my warm mouth, KC's hand rubbed my face, neck and back. "Nonnnnnnnoh," he moaned, pulling his dick out, making a "ppwp" sound between my lips.

He reached down to bring my face up to the pillow on which he laid. KC touched the shaven swell between my parted legs to collect some of my wetness on his fingertips. He smoothed the cream over his cock and down the shaft. I needed no prelude or reintroduction. I hovered over his penis while he held the base. He slid the cock back and forth, making that wet smacking sounds, while groping my breasts with one hand. I slid down his cock, every nuance tantalizing me. The slope of the head, the angle, the hardness -- all of it excited me.

I could not fully sit on him. My cervix was still tender from the first assault. But I could use my own fingers to set off my clit. I loved him because he was my "first", because we ended up being very good at what we did. He came first this time, but I wasn't long after. I went to sleep with is soft cock and thick semen slowly flowing out of me.

We could here the guys on the first floor, in the rec room, turning on the music and continuing the party. It could not have been 10 minutes past last call. "Mmm, wait here, ok?" he mumble, reaching for his boxers from under his bed. "All right."

He got on his pants and a Nautica T-shirt off the floor. I could hear him walking to the door, but the sounds of him going downstairs faded fast.

I am not sure when I awoke again, but he was back and smelled of smoke and alcohol. He had the spastic wild-eyed-ness of Friday night. He was not as aggressive as he was that time, but he was definitely different than earlier.

He lapped at my body, diving his tongue between my labia. But he abandoned the kiss as soon as his cock began to rise. It took him a lot longer to get fully hard, and he came much faster.

"Gary's here" he said, climbing off of me back to the other side of his twin bed.

"And …" I was scared that he wanted me to leave in front of all of them or something.

KC looked at me and laughed, "aaand? OK. I thought you wanted to know that he's looking for you."

"No he's not" I wanted (needed) him to be lying. He smiled, it was a test: "He's not, I was just shittin' you. I think he's over you now."

I took that to mean that Gary saw KC holding me outside at the dance. All I could think was: Damn, by Monday, everyone will know about all of this. I dumped a great Black guy for a pot-smoking White player. He handed me the half-filled glass of water, which he was drinking before he fucked me again, and began to talk way too fast. What I understood was "damn you are so fucking tight."

"What did you expect, you were my first."

KC was quiet for a long time, then started grinning, "d'yam." Then he looked at me and started to rub my shoulders, "you all right?"

"Umm, well, it still hurts, if that's what you mean."

"Not like that, I mean, that is why you were so fucked up and crying earlier."

I sat up, "Damn Kenneth, you were treating me like shit ..." I was angry and about to cry again. "You have ignored me all week!" My voice was cracking.

"You were trying to make me angry Toni, dancing like a fucking freak with him... don't fuck with me." The facts were: he thought he owned me because he wasn't "tired" of me yet, he liked the way I fucked and got even more jealous when he found out he "popped" me.

The illusion was fading; he wasn't some mystery. He was just high enough to do a bold thing at the right time. He tore my world a part. I had to face a lot of reality just then: I lost my virginity to a guy I was not dating; this man and this situation was coincidental. Most of all, there this developing philosophy that I have about male domination: all men are pretty much ruled by their ego, which in turn, is ruled by their cocks. Their cocks, ultimately, rules woman.

If you were to come up and ask me, I would tell you that I always fight for dominance, in business and in bed. But if you were to shove you hands down my pants in broad daylight, I would cream like a good little slut.