You Wouldn’t Understand Until You Meet One

My name is Shaun. I’m a 21-year-old senior at Alabama A and M University and I’ve run into a sexual debacle. If you’ve never been in this situation then this whole story will exceed the farthest boundaries of your mind, but if you’ve ever remotely had a moment of inappropriate fantasy, then please humor me.

I met him in college during my senior year during the world renown Magic City Classic, located in Birmingham, Alabama.

My girls and I (Shanna and Lisa), arrived in Birmingham on Friday afternoon after a short two-hour drive from Huntsville. I know that it should take no more than an hour and a half at most, but we decided to take our time and absorb every bit of our weekend getaway. I think we stopped three times, filling up on food and drinks and fuel, as well as taking photos to preserve our youthful silliness to reflect on later in life when college was no more and the “real” world began.

Upon arriving to the city limits, our senses were immediately bombarded by the smell of freedom and fun. Although, less than a couple of hours removed from school and many more miles away from family, we already felt liberated and ready to have fun. Half dressed and excited to hopefully find our hotel shortly, we all pulled out our smart phones in order to map the directions.

After a completely distracted ride around town and a couple of “cute guy” phone numbers later, we were charged up and ready to go to the room. We checked into the hotel and raced each other to the room, almost tripping over rolling luggage. After a short battle for the bathroom to shower and figure out what the next plan was, I fell back on the bed and took a deep breath as I saw my phone light up and heard it buzz. I wondered who it could be. I had just spoken to my boyfriend while checking-in, just to let him know that his baby was okay. Sometimes he worries way too much, but that just means he loves me.

Let me give you a little background about him. He’s a recent graduate from my school, which is also where we met. He was exactly what my parents suggested I look and be prepared for, while growing up.

He was handsome, a gentleman, educated, church going, and very driven. I liked him. At times I wondered if it was genuine or was I just used to him, but I’ve grown to love him over the year we’ve been together.

I grab the phone and stare at “Mom” on the screen. “What does she want now?” I swipe to unlock my phone and read the message, “Make sure you be careful, don’t get into any trouble, and I love you.” I text back, “Yes mom! I love you too.” With those two out-of-the-way for a couple of hours, I was ready to enjoy the evening.

“Shaun, I’m done, it’s your turn.”

I grab my things and make my way to the bathroom. I disrobe and wrap my hair then grab my shower cap. With one foot into a steamy shower, I hear my phone buzz again. With every intention to ignore my phone as much as possible this weekend, I’m usually compelled to check and see who it is.

It’s my baby again, “Multimedia Message”. Those words alone send a chill through my body and down my spine. It wasn’t so much that a picture or video message was new to me, because we’d had sex plenty of times before, so I have already seen everything he had to offer (which I thoroughly enjoyed), but the fact that he hadn’t done that since we started dating. He was so proud of himself back then and was trying to get me wet every chance he got.

I open the message only to find a short video of him standing in the mirror, after clearly working out and cutting his hair. His hand was on his dick stroking himself. Each oily stroke caused him to be harder, longer, and thicker than the last. He knows that I love mental stimulation just as much as physical and just then I was feeling a little bit of both, before the damn video cut off just as I sat down on the toilet and began using my moist inner walls to “rub one out”…

“Ughhhh. He knows I love to watch him cum, so he definitely owes me one, maybe even two.”

After a quick orgasm and short, but hot shower, we all get dressed and prepare to hit the streets. If we aren’t the flyest girls in the city right now, I’m not sure who are.

We managed to find our way to Riverchase and do a little shopping. Very little since we spent most of the time chatting it up with this group or that group of guys.

“Ladies, we have to stop in New York and Co. before we leave. I heard they have a sale too!”

We take one last detour into New York and Co. before leaving. We split up like mice in a field when we hit the store, all with our own shopping agenda. While barely blinking as I gaze at the numerous racks of beautiful clothes, I turn to the left and notice him standing there talking to his friends. He stood about 6 feet 2 inches, maybe 185 lbs. Attractive, but looking hood as hell! He had on designer jeans that he unfortunately was holding up although he had a belt on, a nice T-shirt, a couple of diamond necklaces, and fitted cap pulled down, just above his eyes, with brand new Timberlands on.

Not even my type, but I could appreciate his “swag”.

“Oh, shit!”

He just caught me staring at him. I hope he doesn’t come over here, because I have a boyfriend and I am not into thugs AT ALL! My worst fears are confirmed as he starts to make his damn way over to the store, leaving his boys behind.

“Just great!”

He comes into the store as prepare to do my best, “I was looking, but don’t want you to talk to me” look. I was expecting no more than ignorant, sex driven conversation that would inevitably confirm my stereotype of thugs. Ironically enough, the first thing he said was…

“Are you finding what you’re looking for?

That totally surprised me and completely through off my force field of deflection I’d already set up. Plan B was going to go into effect before he could get too comfortable.

“Yes I am.”

“No, “Hey Ma?” or “Hey Sweetheart?”

“Why would I say that and you ain’t my mom and you might be an asshole and not sweet at all?”

Damn, he was quick on his feet and my embarrassment from my assumptions started to show.

“Well maybe you’re right.”

“Honestly, I just came over to see if you were as attractive from 2 feet away, as I thought you were from 25 feet away and you confirmed my thoughts.”

“Thank you, but I have a boyfriend.”

“Congratulations, but I don’t even remember asking for your name or number.”

“I guess you are right again.”

At this point, despite my normal stamina to resist the pursuit of most men, I was beginning to find his quick and unexpected responses attractive. My radar was starting to go down a little.

“I apologize for assuming so much when you walked over here…”

“That’s okay, but you have a good afternoon shopping.”  As he walks away.

“DAMN! I have a boyfriend and he is not my type, so why in the hell am I feeling rejected?” He may have been nice to hang out with while here for the weekend.

After watching him walk away, I rushed to the dressing rooms to tell my girls what had just happened. They laughed at me, but reiterated the fact that “those types” are no good anyway. Somehow in my mind, I felt some kinda way about it.

While trying to block that brief conversation out of my head and move forward, we made our way through the rest of the mall and returned back to the hotel to get ready to go out to eat and to the club later that evening.

“I love being a girl!” We got in the club free and barely had to wait in line. My heels wouldn’t have liked that very much anyway. We felt like superstars as we strolled through the club in our sexiest outfits, secretly hoping to run into some of the guys we’d met earlier.

My girls and I were masters at getting free drinks. After about an hour of wandering around the club and dancing to our favorite songs, I happened to look over and who do I see, but the guy from the mall.

He was up in the VIP section. When we saw each other, I smiled, expecting full well for him to come over and speak, forgetting about how I’d acted earlier. Unfortunately, all I got back was a stare and a nod. 😦

This constant “rejection” had never happened to me before. I am an attractive girl and usually I do the rejecting. What in the hell was going on? I was someone’s girlfriend and should’ve had no interest in the interest of someone who wasn’t even my type, right? Either way, I knew how to shake this feeling. I pulled out my phone and began to “tipsy text” my man.

“Hey baby! I miss you!”

Five minutes go by and I am fuming. I have no idea why I haven’t gotten a response, but I was starting to get more and more pissed off as the night went on.

Shanna and Lisa, noticing my mental distance from the great party at hand, find me and drag me kicking and screaming to the dance floor where, “Get it wet” by Twista just happened to be playing. Under the circumstances, this was very bad timing. I was horny, emotional, and drunk; bad combination. What the hell, I may as well enjoy myself since I’m here.

We head out to the center of the dance floor, where we begin winding our bodies to the music. It took only moments before Shanna and Lisa were approached by guys wanting to dance with them. Happy for them? Yes. Slightly jealous? Yes. I tried my best to hide my own loneliness as I slowly danced to myself, secretly wishing for the song to end as soon as possible. It does, only to be over lapped by R. Kelly’s “Sex me part 1 and 2”.

“Fuck that, I am going to get another drink…”

Just as I turn to head towards the bar, leaving my girls to have a great time to themselves, someone grabs my hand. As I turn to curse out the rude individual that somehow thought that was okay, my ears were greeted by his words.

“Still haven’t found what you’re looking for?”

Unsure of how to answer his question, I responded with one of my own.

“Have we met, because I don’t even know your name?”

“Of course we have. You don’t remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. You are the guy from the mall, right?”

“Actually, no. We met long before I ever approached you in the mall.”

Having no clue of what he was talking about, I responded to his statement with a perplexed look on my face.

Side note: His eyes were beautiful under the low lights of the club and staring directly into mine.

“What exactly are you talking about? The mall was the first time I ever saw you.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Let me explain why.”

“You’ve fantasized about me before. You’ve wondered what it would be like to fuck in the front seat of a Yukon Denali. Your black  and white skirt pulled up to your waist so that it would be more comfortable to open your legs and pull your panties to the side so that the head of my dick could reach deep inside your pussy, that had been getting wetter and wetter with each suck, lick and kiss to your beautiful breasts, which I’d already released from your red, spaghetti strapped top. You’ve fantasized about sharing a blunt with me, blowing one tree after another while listening to J. Cole as you came one time after another, under the safe cover of triple black tinted windows.

I read that on your face when we met. I knew it before you did. I also know that, based on your high-class demeanor, you are going to act completely disrespected by my assumptions, come up with something smart to say while using as many hand and neck movements as you can to convey your baseless assumption.

That being said, Dance with me.”

Wow! I am floored. I am thinking to myself, “He’s not right!” I am not even thinking about him.

“What does all of that have to do with us dancing?”

“Nothing at all, but that hasn’t stopped your body from moving with mine, right?”

“Ooooooh. I hate him.” He was right again.

Damnit, I was half way through the song and secretly enjoying my unorthodox relationship with “him”. He held me tightly as my hands embraced his arms that were now wrapped around my waist. He was starting to get hard and I was continuing to get wet. “This is all wrong.” I never really even dance with guys at the clubs/parties we go to, but here I was, nose wide open for a man whose name I hadn’t even gotten yet, slowly getting a contact high from the weed, he’d been smoking in VIP.

It was fun, but it was definitely time to go. I tracked down my girls and begged them to go. They verbally abused me the whole way home. We parked the car and walked bare footed back to the room.

Just as the key slid into the door, Shanna’s cell phone rang. It was a group of guys we’d met at the mall, earlier that day. Just like that, they were ready to go back out.

“Shaun, we love you, but we did not come all the way here to stay in this room. Catch you later!”

Her and Lisa use the restroom right before giving me a hug and heading back out. I just crashed on the bed. As I laid there, I couldn’t help, but review such an odd day. “Was he right? Did I subconsciously want him, although he wasn’t my type or did I not really know what my type was?” Either way, I was going to be masturbating tonight and then going to sleep. As I lay in the bed scrolling through pictures of me and my man and looking at phone videos of some our sexual escapades, I began rubbing my chest, before sliding my hands down into my panties. “I love how wet I get and so does my man.” When he’s inside me I never want it to end. Stroke after deep stroke and orgasm after creamy orgasm, I can’t wait to do it again.

“Knock, Knock, knock. Room Service!”

I jump up and quickly wipe of my hands before rushing to the door. I look through the peep-hole and who do I see… My man! I am so excited. He must have been reading my mind, because I needed some dick right then.

I let him in and give him the biggest hug. After finally coming down from the initial high, I realize that he has a baseball cap on, which he never wears, but it was no time for questions.  I unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie, before applying kisses to every inch of his chest. He always dressed nice and had such a professionally attractive demeanor about himself. After working my way down his chest, I reached the belt to his jeans. I unbuckled it in order to release his dick that had obviously been telepathically communicating with my pussy all night.

“True Religion jeans. He is definitely not one to wear loose-fitting jeans, but oh well.”

I use my hand to pull his dick out of the hole in his boxers. It damn near puts my eye out from the reach it had, but my mouth was able to defend me from being speared. I love to please so I take special care to curl my tongue and tease the tip of his outstretched dick. I use zero hands as I work my lips around his head and suck on that for a little just to give him a taste (or get a taste in this case). He was usually very passive so my intent was to try to change that.

He surprisingly began to grab a hand full of hair, forcing his dick down my throat as I began to slightly gag, not from choking, but from being startled at his much more aggressive approach tonight. I did like it though, because it made me work that much harder to please. He was fucking my mouth so hard that I grabbed his foot for support.

“Timberlands?”

What was going on with him? He hates boots and actually laughs at every guy he sees wearing Timberlands and shorts. He grabbed my shoulders and picked me up and kissed me. It was so sweet and passionate like the first time we kissed. He complimented my outfit, saying how beautiful I am and how glad he was that he’d made the trip to see me.

Then just like that he ripped my shirt down, exposing my already aroused nipples. He bent down and with his arms around my waist and my back arched, hair flowing behind me, began sucking on them in his normally soft and sensual way.

It felt great like it usually does, but a little firmness in his sucks wouldn’t hurt either. Just as I thought it, he softly bit my nipple. This has never happened before and I can honestly say that I almost orgasmed just that easily. This aggressive side of him was amazingly passionate. He detailed my breasts so well that I literally started to cream down my leg at the feeling.

He then pushed me face down on the bed, pulling my panties and skirt all the way off, exposing my completely naked body. He climbed on top of me and jammed that dick in me from behind so quickly that I never got a chance to open my legs. With my body stretched completely out and legs closed, he worked that pussy like never before. This was definitely a new side of him.

While straddling me, and fucking me crazy from behind, I felt a cold sensation on my back. He’d run a heavy necklace down the center of my back, giving me a secondary sensation, different from the pounding he was applying from behind. During this whole thing, I was face down, screaming into the sheets when I felt the necklace fall near my face.

“XLT Ent.”

???!!!!???

That was familiar. That was the same necklace the guy from the mall had on. Just as I began to attempt to turn around and add clarity to the situation, he grabs my waist and hits a spot so deep inside me that I have a have a cum blow out. I felt a gush as I grabbed the sheets tighter leaving a wet ass and creamy dick.

He turned me over and while on my back, I began to fix my mouth to ask him about the chain when he stuck his dick back inside me, for some reason, feeling even harder and longer than before. He placed his hands around my neck and began fucking me even harder than before, extending his legs completely out and dropping down into my pussy like and oil drill. It was so rough and different that I came shortly thereafter this time much more internal and intense due to the multiple “mental orgasms” he’d been giving me.

At the very same time I’d been releasing my orgasms onto him he was cumming on me. He pulled out and leaned back while on his knees, and gave me a pearl shower, squirting all over my stomach and chest. Side Note: Big turn on! He normally came on my ass or inside me, soooo once again, either he was learning me much better or–…

“Knock, knock, knock! Shaun, open the damn door! It’s Shanna and Lisa”

I rush to open the door, after taking another 2 minutes to hide my man and his clothes.

“Hey y’all what’s up?”

They storm passed me like, “WTF is going on, we been banging on the door for 30 minutes!”

“30 minutes? I haven’t heard a thing. I was just about to jump in the shower, that’s why I’m in the robe.”

“Shaun, are you okay?”

“Yeah, what do you mean?”

“Uhhhh. I mean, how were you going to get in the shower fully dressed?”

I look down and I am still fully dressed from the club.

“Shit, I don’t know, I must still be a little tipsy.”

After gathering their keys and leaving, they give me such a weird side eye as they walked down the hall. Totally confused, I return to the bed where, seemingly such a beautiful sex scene had just taken place, only to realize that for the past 30 minutes I’d been caught in the midst of a conflicting sexual fantasy between what I thought I was supposed to like and was very much used to and a secret “bad boy” desire that my mind had tried to hide, but had been awakened from years of suppression.

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