Matt's Freshman Year Pt. 01

Matt's Freshman Year is a series of short stories about how Matthew Greenwood establishes his reputation on campus. Stories can be read in any order, though some characters and conversations in the early stories do come back in later ones, so I recommend reading in order.

Matt is what I like to call a "Pleasure Dom" or a "Service Dom." He takes pride in taking care of his girls, and watching them fall apart for him is his favorite part of the encounter. Be warned, though, he's not always Mr. Nice Guy.

This series contains elements of light BDSM, bondage, some light impact play, toys, M/ff, oral, anal, edging, denial, teasing, dirty talk, and occasional other fun treats. All characters are 18+, though some past experiences of his are mentioned in his memory only, and not explicitly written out.

Enjoy!

Matt

"Bitch please, nobody's got a dick that big."

"It was, I swear. It was like..." the blonde holds her hands about a foot apart. "At least this big."

"That's absurd," the brunette says. "That isn't even fun anymore."

"Oh, no, it was fun alright. I couldn't walk for four days, but it was fun."

The girls had been going back and forth about the blonde's most recent fucktoy she'd collected. She'd bragged about him, his great hair, his sexy smile, his huge member, how strong and muscular he was, but the one thing she hadn't mentioned was if it was any good.

Because it probably wasn't.

I smirked. That was the problem with most big guys; they had no clue how to make it good for the girl. It kinda pissed me off, because I was a firm believer that with great power comes great responsibility.

"Yeah and he lasted forever, too," the blonde continued. "Like, I think he lasted for an hour or something." She rolled her eyes.

"But did you come," I asked.

The girls stopped gossiping and glanced over at me. Some of the other girls in the house had been listening to their conversation, and had stopped to look at me as well.

"Who are you," the brunette said.

"Did you come," I asked the blonde again. "Or did he just use you like a sock for an hour?"

Based on the look on her face, it was the latter.

"I'm sorry babes," I said. "He shouldn't have treated you like that. He should have made it good for you."

"Yeah, who are you," the blonde answered.

"I'm a friend of Rachel's," I answered.

"Rachel Sythe?"

"Yes ma'am," I nodded, leaning back in my chair. I watched them look me over, the sharpness in their gazes shifting to something smoother, wider, softer.

There was something about wearing a pair of dark denim jeans, a tightly fitted t-shirt, and a pair of boots that always had girls eating out of my hand. Or maybe it was the position; sitting back in a chair comfortably, legs open, arms relaxed, oozing confidence and sex appeal. Or maybe it was calling them "ma'am." Some girls had a major kink for southern gentlemen.

Either way, it always worked. There were six girls downstairs, and even though two of them were sitting with boyfriends, I was pretty sure I could have my pick if I played my cards right.

Right now I had my eyes on the blonde. There was something about a tanned, lean girl with golden hair and bright blue eyes that made it worth getting out of bed in the morning.

"What year are you," the brunette said. She flipped her long straight hair over her shoulder.

"Freshman," I said, unashamed.

The girls snickered.

"Aww, he's just a baby."

"Fresh meat," another one said.

Fresh meat indeed, I thought. For me. But I stared back at them, and then gave them my best smile.

The blonde's eyelashes fluttered slightly. I winked, and then looked back at Mark, who was sitting beside me on the couch of the sorority house.

Mark was a friend of Rachel's too, and she'd invited us both over for lunch to meet some of the girls. We'd been catching up since we'd seen each other last year over the summer. He'd transferred from Tennessee State to Western for the year because he'd gotten a scholarship, and we were excited to be able to hang out more. Mark was three years older than me, but we'd grown up together like brothers.

I was only halfway listening as he told me about the drama of the marching band back at TSU, and he was only halfway focused on telling me, because he had his eyes on the hispanic girl wearing a crop top in the corner. She was absentmindedly playing with her hair and adjusting her shirt, trying to get his attention, and he was purposefully not giving it to her.

"I can't even come anymore without a vibrator," the blonde was saying now.

Mark and I laughed quietly, knowing exactly how this was going to go down.

I looked back at the blonde. "Maybe lay off the vibrator for a while, sweet cheeks, and let a real man take care of you."

Mark laughed. "And that's my cue," he said. He stood up and stretched, letting his shirt ride up and show off his toned six-pack, then sighed and walked over to the curvy hispanic girl he'd been watching. He wrapped her ponytail around his wrist, pulled her up, and dragged her into the other room without a single word.

He was a jerk like that. For some reason, girls liked it.

"And that real man is you," the blonde snipped.

"Sure, if you want. Or my friend will be available in about ten minutes. But I think you probably want a little more TLC than that."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're under six inches, don't even waste my time."

"Oh come on, sweet cheeks," I grinned. "All you really need are three inches and a good angle."

The girls in the room laughed. The blonde's eyes flashed. "Wow, you've got a hell of an attitude for a boy with three inches."

This was my favorite line for a reason. I watched her face as I held up my pinkie finger.

Every girl had a different reaction to that line and that action, but it was always worth it. Her face changed to embarrassment and curiosity, and she bit her lip.

Gotcha.

I wasn't sure who let the Freshman in, but I wasn't going to complain. It wasn't every day you got to feast your eyes on a sweet southern specimen like that.

We were deep in the mountains of rural North Carolina, right next to the town of Cherokee, and this guy looked like he stepped right out of a history book.

He was at least six feet tall; broad shoulders, muscled as hell. Narrow hips, dark tanned skin with a hint of gold or red in it, and his face... Jesus. A straight nose, chiseled lips, the jawline of a cologne model, and deep-set dark brown eyes. His hair was dark brown and wavy, and was short enough to stay off his face, but long enough that I wanted to run my fingers through the tousled waves. I could see his abs through his t-shirt, and the tendons in his hands and arms flex. And boy were those hands big.

The conversation devolved until he implied he could make me come with his pinkie finger, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch. Handsome as hell, but cocky. And we had a reputation to keep around here. I wasn't going to let some half-assed guy with a big attitude and a small dick stick around for our parties and go disappointing one of my sisters.

Time to get rid of this fool and put him in his place.

He nodded for me to come over to him. I let my hips roll as I walked his way, meeting his smirk and his attitude with my own. But damn if it wasn't hard to push back on that level of dominance. It oozed out of him like cologne.

I stopped right in front of him. He patted his knee, and I sat, wiggling slightly.

"I'm not calling you daddy," I said.

"Don't worry, sweet cheeks. You'll be saying my name."

"You and your three inches?" I laughed.

He laughed back, unashamed. There's no way he's three inches, I thought. That had to be a joke. With that kind of confidence, he had to at least be average.

"What's your name," I said, trailing a pink-tipped fingernail up and down his arm.

"Matt Greenwood."

"Ooh," I looked back at Lexie. She laughed along with me. "Greenwood," I said, looking back at him. "Strong name. Not one I'll forget."

"Oh baby, you'll never forget."

I laughed again. This asshole was so full of himself, I planned to take him down a few notches and leave him with some serious blue balls. This was going to be fun.

"We have a party tonight," I said. "It's a panty party. Do you know what that means?"

He raised his eyebrows and resisted a smile. "No, but I can guess."

"It means girls are only allowed to wear their underwear. And the only boys allowed in are ones we know, love, and hit repeatedly. So everyone has a good time."

"Sounds like my kind of party."

"You need an invite," I said, shifting on his lap, watching for any kind of response. Nothing. "You think you can swing one?"

He searched my face for a minute, and I resisted shrinking back under the intensity of his stare. It felt like he was undressing me with his eyes, but he wasn't looking at my body. He was looking at me.

There was something oddly intimate about that kind of eye-contact.

"Fifteen minutes," he said softly, so only I could hear.

"What?"

"You're going to be shouting my name in fifteen minutes, and begging me to come to that party tonight."

Had to give it to him for the confidence.

"And if you fail?"

"I won't." He shrugged like it was nothing.

I stood up off his lap and motioned for him to follow me up the stairs.

In my room, he shut the door behind us. Pulling out my phone, I set a timer for fifteen minutes, held it up and showed him, and then tossed it on my desk, and then started unbuttoning my shirt.

He grabbed my hands, stopping me. "Whoa whoa, hold on a second, babes..."

"You're wasting your fifteen minutes."

"Don't worry about the time, that's my job. Slow down, okay?" His dark brown eyes roamed up and down my body, and he licked his lips. His lips were gorgeous, full and chiseled, and a beautiful dark pink.

His fingers trailed down to the bottom of my blouse, and undid the bottom one. "What's your name?" he asked, looking me in the eye. His voice was low and smooth.

"Janet," I said, tilting my head to the side. I bit my lip. Shit like that always distracted guys, but Matt was still looking me in the eye.

His fingers inched up towards the next button, not touching my skin. "Janet... I like it. You're hot," he smiled. "You an athlete?"

"Volleyball."

"I figured it was that or soccer. What year are you?"

"Junior," I said, but it almost came out like a question. I needed those hands on my skin, just to know what it felt like. My body was tingling and he hadn't even touched me yet.

"Nice." His hands went a little higher. The third button opened, and my shirt was almost off. I could feel the air from the room hitting my skin, but he hadn't touched me yet. "What are you studying, Janet?"

"Astronomy," I said, and my voice came out breathier than I'd meant it. I swallowed.

"Oh, so you're smart and hot," he said.

"Do you use all the same lines on all your fucks?"

"No, babes," he said, stepping back and looking at me as he pulled my shirt open and off. "Hot damn..." he licked his lips and took a breath as his eyes seared across my skin.

I could tell he wanted to touch me but he wouldn't, and it was infuriating.

"So... interplanet Janet..." he reached out a hand and touched a finger to the bra strap on my shoulder, sliding it down just a little. Somehow, that little movement felt more like undressing than him removing my shirt. "Can I kiss you?"

"No," I said, suddenly feeling like I needed an advantage over him. I'd hooked up tons of times before, but never like this, with a timer, and a guy who kept looking at me like I was special and gorgeous. And normally I didn't like the asking-for-permission thing, but there was something really hot about how Matt had asked.

"Okay," he said, and stepped closer, and his fingers touched my waist, gently gliding across my stomach and behind my back to pull me closer to him. He leaned forward, tilting his head to whisper in my ear. "Can I kiss your body?"

"You'd better," I sighed.

I felt him smile against my ear, and his lips pressed against the spot right under it, and then nibbled down my neck. A low growl escaped from his throat as he neared my collarbone, and I shivered as I felt his tongue dart out and paint a warm, wet path back up my neck to my ear.

My stomach clenched and I felt myself getting wet.

Shit. This asshole might actually know what he was doing.

"You're running out of time," I said, looking over at the phone on my desk. The timer said nine minutes.

Without pulling his lips away from my neck, Matt let go of me with one hand, and flipped the phone over. "I'll worry about the time. You worry about how wet your pussy is getting for me."

"How do you know I'm wet," I said.

He chuckled. Damn that was a hot sound. Then he nipped at my ear, put both hands on my hips. His arms flexed and he lifted me up like I weighed less than twenty pounds.

I gasped as he held me tight for a moment, walking back and setting me gently on the bed behind me. He was nibbling on my neck again, sending shivers down my whole body and making my arms break out in goosebumps. With one hand, he brushed his fingers up and down across my stomach, making me gasp as they trailed over my belly button. The other hand snaked up behind my back and unhooked my bra like he did this professionally.

Fuck. Maybe he did.

"Oohhh," he cooed as he pulled off my bra. "Jan, babes, your tits..."

I blushed as both of his massive, rough hands cupped my breasts, weighing them, lifting and dropping them gently. He met my eyes as he ducked his head and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue.

"Oh shit," I mumbled, a hot pang of need running down and settling in my gut.

I was so losing this game. But at this point, with the attention my breasts were getting, I was totally okay with it.

I'd been "slutting it" with my sisters since Freshman year, and no man had ever worshiped my tits this well. Matt groaned around my nipple and bit it gently, and then popped it out of his mouth, pressing my breasts together and licking the seam between them.

"Matt," I murmured.

"Yeah babes," he murmured back, nibbling at my other nipple while his finger pinched and pulled at the one his lips had abandoned. His other hand went down to the waistband of my jeans and started fiddling with the button.

"Fuck yes," I said, and reached down to help him pull my pants off.

He caught my wrists and set them gently above my head, still sucking on my tits. The look in his eye was enough of a wordless command that I obeyed.

He unbuttoned my jeans, and worked them down over my hips, and I shifted to help him. He left a trail of kisses down my torso, across my tummy, spending extra time nibbling around my belly button. His tongue flicked down into it, and I gasped, feeling myself gush.

Matt's hands slid under my hips and lifted me towards his face as his teeth caught the waistband of my thong. He tugged at it and then gave up, rolling it down with his fingers. "Yellow looks really good on you, Jan," he said against my skin. My thong was down to my knees and his lips were kissing and nibbling back and forth over my hips. He opened his mouth and let his teeth graze my skin and I moaned.

"Matt," I whimpered. "Come on."

"Come on, what, babes?"

"Nobody's gone down on me in ages, please..."

I reached down and ran my fingers through his hair, trying to guide him towards my pussy. His hands came down under my thighs and lifted my legs up so he had full access to me.

"Yes," I whispered. But Matt continued kissing my skin, licking my thighs, groaning as he nibbled and gently bit at my ass cheeks. I felt his hot breath wash over my pussy, but he wouldn't touch me. I felt myself clenching and unclenching in anticipation of his touch.

"Matt, please." My pussy was quivering and throbbing with need and I was so wet I was sure I was dripping.

"I knew you were wet."

Then he pulled back and set my legs back down, and smirked at me.

"Matt!" I said, and it was louder than I meant it.

He grinned. "I told you so," he said.

I sat up and glared at him, then jerked my head over to my desk, grabbing my phone right as the timer went off.

Fifteen minutes and I'd shouted his name.

The fucker.

"Matt Greenwood I swear to god!"

He leaned forward and kissed my collarbone, and stood up off the bed.

"Matt, come on! Please?"

"Where's your vibrator?" he said.

Oh fuck no. I did not want him using that thing on me when I was this keyed up. I didn't answer but he seemed to know all the places to look. Sock drawer. Under the bed. Under the mattress. Bedside table. Finally he found it in a basket of junk under my bed.

"Nice collection," he said, rifling through my toys. I didn't have much. An egg, a wand, and a few butt plugs. He held up the largest plug. "Can you take this?"

"Yeah, so?" it wasn't that big. He put it back in the basket.

"These things will ruin your clit," he said, holding up the Hitachi wand. "You'll never be able to come without one once you start using one."

"Matt, come on. Don't be an asshole." I felt like a total bitch for practically begging him, but I was shivering with need. I just needed to come. I hadn't been this horny in ages, and with the way he'd kissed my body and worshiped my breasts, I could guaran-damn-tee that man knew where my clit was.

"Here's what's going to happen, sweet cheeks." He wrapped the chord around the body of the wand, and stuck it in his back pocket. "I'm going to go home and finish my chores for the day, take a shower, and put on a clean shirt, and then I'm going to come back here this evening and finish you."

He sauntered over to the bed where I was still sitting, naked and dripping wet. He pulled my panties off my legs and stuck them in his back pocket with the wand. "And while I'm gone, you're going to be a good girl, and not touch yourself, and not borrow any of your girlfriend's toys, and you're going to stay nice and wet and needy for me." He pushed me onto my back with one finger, and I moaned as he grabbed my knees and spread my legs obnoxiously wide.

"Yeah, babes. Wet and needy, just like that." He closed my knees and pulled me up by my shoulders, and then pulled me to my feet. "And if you're a good girl, and you come all over my face for me, maybe I'll even let you ride my cock." Then he pulled me against his hips so I could feel how hard he was.

Oh. My. God.

My mouth popped open as I felt him against my hips, straining through his jeans. That was a hell of a lot more than three inches.

"How... what... How big are you?" I managed to get out.

I was fully aware that I was a size queen. It was more of an inconvenience than anything, because massive cocks were harder to come by than one would think. But whatever he was packing, I had a feeling he knew how to use it.

"Be a good girl... and I'll let you find out."

"Matt please," I tried one last time, using my sluttiest voice and reaching my hand for his jeans. He stood still and watched me as I ran my hands across his hips. I felt him twitch under me but he didn't budge. Fucking hell. With my wrist against the base and my fingers straight down, I hadn't reached the head. I swallowed and my mouth watered. He felt thick, too.

"Hey, Jan," he said, taking my hand off him and then tipping my chin up to look him in the eye. God he was tall.

"Yeah?"

"I have a few rules."

I swallowed.

"Rule one, I don't hook up with drunk girls. Okay baby?" his finger brushed against my lips, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. "You can have a drink or two, get yourself a buzz if you need it, but if you're sloshed, I'm not touching you."