The Virgin


The night started off as all good nights do; with shots of tequila and lots of cake. University life being what it was, it was almost normal, and the group of us started at home, with wine and vodka and a mix of other disgusting spirits. By the time we threw on our coats and staggered down the stairs, I was almost gone already, my vision blurred and movements shaky. The cold wind woke me up, freezing wind blowing my short purple skirt up so I had to fight to hold it down, to stop it from baring my arse to the world. But by the time the first shots flowed at the party, I didn't care anymore.

We danced, drank, snogged and I remembered vaguely having someone's tongue down my throat, my body being touched and squeezed as I danced close to strangers on the dance floor. The four of us - Jenny, the only one of us who stayed sober; Grant, the awkward, quiet boy that I'd never seen let his hair down before; and Paul, the popular, ladies man with a girlfriend. Considering we'd just sat our last exam, we partied hard. I'd never seen Grant drunk before, never seen him away from his text books in fact, and I was sure he'd never had a girlfriend, and in all likelihood never even kissed a woman before. So, when I saw him laughing and dancing - badly - I was quite glad he'd managed to let his hair down. He needed it, I thought. He was quite uptight most of the time, and no wonder, I realised, when he told me I was right- He'd never had sex. Never had a girlfriend. Never had a kiss... I felt sorry for him.

But soon I'd had so much to drink that I couldn't even stand up. Paul found me as I staggered and fell amidst the bodies on the dance floor, my skirt ridden up to show off my thighs and frilly black panties. He didn't say anything, but tried to help me up. It took Grant - a little drunk himself - to carry me out of the party and onto the cold street. My head was so fuzzy, my head so heavy, my vision almost black, that I hardly remembered the journey home. I knew that Jenny was sober, so she led the way, but when we got home, I was laid down on the blow-up bed in the middle of the floor, with Paul's bed at one end, and the spare bed - sporting Jenny - at the other.

I hardly remembered Grant coming into the bed beside me, struggling to see or move, I was quickly unconscious.

That space, between dreaming and asleep that you are when you're drunk, so out-of-it that you can't really move, can't hardly think, but awake enough to feel the pounding in your head and the fast heartbeat, the room spinning; that's where I was. I heard Paul begin to snore, and Jenny had earphones in, listening to some awful preppy trash that beat through the room in the silence. I was still dressed, for a moment wishing that I had brought pyjamas because I was cold, my bare legs hardly being covered by the small blanket. Then I felt something brush my side. It was only Grant shuffling around, I thought, but the movement on the airbed made me feel sick. I wished I could tell him to stop, but my voice wouldn't work. Then the fabric of my skirt moved a little, and I tried to move my hand, to brush it down, but it felt leaden. It tickled my hip as it moved upwards, until I could feel that it was up around my waist, my frilly black, almost transparent panties the only thing covering my freshly shaved cunt.

He touched the fabric right between my legs with his fingers, and carefully, slowly moved my legs apart with his leg, pulling my ankle towards him. His fingers pushed the fabric covering between my legs to the side, and he very gently let his fingers touch my soft lips. He shuddered beside me, and with his other hand, touched my arm. I flinched, but couldn't pull away, my head spinning so hard I didn't know which way was up.

His hand held mine, and lifted it, moving it over to his groin. He shuffled himself sideways, and my fingers brushed his balls, and his soft cock. It made him groan, and as he pushed my hand against him - through his boxers - I felt his cock begin to harden, as he rubbed my fingers against him. He was strong, but in my drunken stupor I could hardly feel anything, never mind move. He took his hand away from my clit and brought his cock out of his boxers, wrapping my fingers around it and pulling it backwards and forwards, my fingernails gently scratching along his shaft.

I could feel that he was struggling not to blow his cum all over my hand just from that, his whole body shaking the air bed underneath me. He let my hand go and I managed to retract it, moving myself a little further away from him.

I almost thought I might have been dreaming, but then his fingers hooked under the fabric of my panties and pulled my underwear down over my thighs. I stirred, confused, angry, but my whole body wouldn't move. I managed to swing my arm at him a bit, but he brushed it to the side, hardly noticing, perhaps even thinking me still asleep, and stayed still for a moment until I started to fade back into unconsciousness.

But then I realised that he was kneeling between my legs, his rough fingers exploring my clit, holding my lips apart very gently with his thumbs as he looked at me for a long time. I could feel his breath on my wet, hot skin, and he rubbed my clit gently, as though trying to find it. The little metal ring that sat through the hood of my clit made me shiver with sensation as he played with it, my cunt becoming involuntarily wet. When he pressed on it, hard, I flinched, and I could feel him grow harder, his cock pressing against my leg through his boxers.

He inserted a finger, apprehensively, inside me, exploring, my juices wetting it enough to slide in easily. He pushed it in as far as he could, and I tried to move my hips away, but he held them still. He removed his finger, then slowly inserted two into me, pushing in gently and feeling around inside me. Slowly, he took them out and I could just see in the darkness, he raised his fingers to his lips and ran his tongue along the length of them. He groaned, rubbing me more erratically with his hand, then moving until I could feel his hot breath right against my cunt. His tongue explored my clit first, and I protested, pushing his head away. But I was weak, my throat closed with shock, and he ignored my touch. He then thrust his tongue deep inside me, clumsily, licking at me madly, his saliva dripping down over my lips and down to my ass. His tongue followed it, until it was licking around my asshole.

His breathing became harsher as he resumed licking my clit hard, then pressed his fingers into my cunt, making me jump. When they were dripping wet, he moved them downwards, parting my ass cheeks, and rubbing the lubrication around my asshole. He slowly inserted one finger into my ass, and the pain was excruciating. I kicked at him, hitting him feebly, and he grunted, pushing two fingers into my ass. He hurt me not because my arse was unused to exploration - it certainly wasn't - but because he didn't know how. But he'd soon got the idea, pushing his fingers in and out of my asshole, until a few little tears escaped my eyes with the pain.

Then, he moved up, releasing his cock from within his boxers and pushing it against my cunt. He missed, the first time, and had to slowly guide it in, but he was big, and soon he slid inside me, the wetness from his licking and sucking letting him ease in. He didn't let himself relax on me, knowing it would probably wake me properly I supposed, so I could just feel his cock, buried inside me, unmoving, and his hot breath on my neck. He ran his fingers over my breasts, then pulled my top up and ran his hand up my side, underneath my bra and cupped my breast, his fingers caressing my nipple.

As my nipple grew hard from the sensation, he started to lose himself, and he pushed his cock harder into me, then pulled himself out slowly, and thumped his hips against mine again. Faster and faster, the more he got used to what he was doing, he fucked my cunt as hard as he dared, my arms pinned by the leaden weight within them and his hefty frame holding me down.

As I knew he was going to cum inside me, he pushed his wet lips against mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth and licking at me. His kisses moved across my cheek and he kissed his way down my neck hungrily. His hand pushed my breast hard upwards, squeezing it so tightly that I started to gasp with the pain, and licked around my nipple, kissing it and sucking whilst his nails dug into the sensitive skin around it.

He came, hard, his hand pressing against my shoulders holding me tightly against the bed whilst he rocked himself back and forward inside me, his cum leaking down around his cock and pooling at my ass. I couldn't believe he'd lost his virginity by fucking me like that, I knew he wasn't that drunk, not as drunk as me, anyway. He'd carried me home! As he pulled himself out and rolled off, lying still beside me, I thought I was going to vomit, the adrenaline and shock beginning to wear off the longer I lay there in the darkness. His saliva on my nipple and neck, and the wet cum dripping over my cunt started to become cold as I lay in the silence, but soon I lost all feeling as I fell into unconsciousness.

I felt some more movement a while later, and woke up with the worst hangover I'd ever experienced. After vomiting into a bucket carefully placed beside me, I looked around. everyone was awake, having breakfast together by the window. Grant said that he'd been so drunk he couldn't remember a thing, and I agreed, I couldn't remember either.

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