Up in Michigan

by D.T. Iverson

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, NonConsensual, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Janet and Peter are your average upper-middle-class couple. They lead an idyllic life. Janet is devoted to her kids and her husband. But then she meets Bill. Bill REALLY wants her and he'll stop at nothing to get her. Both Janet and Peter think that Bill is an arrogant d-bag. And they put together an elaborate plan to let him know that. Of course karma is a heartless bitch and as Confucius said "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."

Okay – I admit it. I have my fantasies. In each, I’m tall, athletic, and devilishly handsome. Of course, I’m none of that in real life. I’m normal height, average weight, I have never been good at any sport and I was always the wingman for my more socially adept friends. So, my dating amounted to me getting nothing but leftovers, after the alpha dogs ate.

That describes my first serious attempt at dumping the curse of virginity. I was at a sorority mixer when I saw this brown-haired mutt. She was standing on the other side of the room and looking as ill at ease as I felt. Neither of us were coupled up. So, I gravitated toward her; misery loves company.

She was ordinary height, brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, olive complexion. There was nothing distinguishing about her face or figure. She was just “brown.” I said, “Hi “and leaned my back against the wall next to her. She said, “Hi.” And we just stood there for an uncomfortable period, staring at the people dancing.

My brain was yelling, “Say something you idiot!!! But I couldn’t think of anything to say.” In the meantime, she was looking creeped-out. Inspiration hit and I said, “My name’s Peter, like the Saint, not the bunny rabbit.” My lame attempt at witty. The fact that she didn’t flee the scene screaming, indicated how desperate she was. She looked at me and said, “Suzie.” She DID have pretty eyes. We stood there for another uncomfortable length of time. I finally said, “Would you like to dance.”

I’m spastic on the dance floor, but it was all I had. She said, “I’m sorry but I don’t dance.” A woman who didn’t dance? Unheard of!! What was she doing here? We stood for another painful period.

She said, “Would you like to get some fresh air? I can’t hear myself think.” Wow!! That was a breakthrough.

I said, “Sure.” Okay, it wasn’t suave. We walked out onto the porch. It was summer and hot outside. But it was unbearable inside the party. So, the night air felt cool and refreshing. She had on the classic Bermuda shorts and spaghetti strap top that was popular with girls back then. I was wearing an old pair of cut off blue jeans and a ratty t-shirt. My standard uniform.

I was desperately trying to think of something to say. So, I tried the usual gambit, “What are you studying?”

She said, “Nothing. I’m a townie. Bill Wirt brought me. But he took off with his buddies and left me by myself.”

Wirt was one of the overentitled douchebags who made us peasants miserable. I thought, “Wirt brought her???!! She must have some hidden talent?” I blurted, “Well I would never leave you at a party. You are way too pretty.” I didn’t exactly mean that but she was starting to grow on me.

What I got was puppy-dog eyes. She said, “Do you really think so?”

I lied, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t leave a hot chick like you standing around.”

She said rather defensively, “How do you know I’m hot? Who have you been talking to?!!” Okay, that was a little unexpected.

I dithered a bit and said, “Nobody – you’re just hot looking – that’s all.” I was starting to synch with her.

She must have felt the same vibe because she melted a bit and said, “I work at the Loft. You should drop in some time.”

I felt like I might be edging up on my first real score. She was not a movie star. But neither was I. And she radiated the total lack of sophistication that was my stock in trade. But she also gave off a distinct hint of sexuality.

It was the classic Catch-22. I hadn’t had grown-up sex yet. But I was very eager to try. I just needed to hook-up with a girl who was experienced enough to know how to do it. But not so experienced that a twenty-year-old virgin wouldn’t interest her. This girl looked like she might meet both criteria. I was mulling that over when she began to lean toward me with those bedroom eyes and we kissed.

It was electric. She moaned, her mouth opened and we swapped tongues for several seconds. This was getting hot. We broke for a second just staring at each other. Both of us panting like bloodhounds on a hot Georgia porch. I was certain that I was about to score.

That was when Bill Wirt reappeared.

He said with scorn in his voice, “Suzie – what the heck are you doing out here?” and pulled her to him by the waist. He didn’t even notice her breathlessness. Which was probably fortunate for both of us since he was a starting linebacker on the football team. He was huge!!!

He added looking angrily down at her, “I spend a little time with my friends and you just wander off with some weenie. If you want to be with ME you had better watch your behavior, bitch.”

Now, the person I wished I was would have wrestled the guy to his knees, just for being such an asshole. Instead I stood there looking blank. I am not aggressive and I have no instincts that way. I thought that Suzie looked humiliated. But she immediately turned and said to Wirt, “What was I supposed to do when you left me standing there for an hour?”

He said, “I had some business to attend to. And I expect you to wait for me while I’m doing it.” I had a pretty good idea what that business WAS. Because a bit earlier I had seen him go past me toward the parking lot with a thoroughly wasted Becky Almendinger.

Maybe he planned to rush her to the hospital to have her checked for alcohol poisoning. Or maybe he spent an hour fucking her in somebody’s back seat. Who knew? At any rate, Suzie turned to Frodo Douchbaggins and said, “I was just talking to Peter while you were gone. It was no big deal.” It was heartening to discover that I was, “No big deal.”

He looked at me and sneered, “Stay away from my woman, or you and I will have something to talk about.” He was a half foot taller. I didn’t think it was world politics. So, I just stared.

Then he turned and jammed his hand down the back of Suzie’s shorts, and more-or-less hoisted her back into the party by her left butt-cheek. She went along uncomplainingly. My alter-ego would have had the asshat in a hammerlock pleading for mercy at that point. But I just stood there looking disapproving.

A disapproving stare was the best I could come up with.

I was pretty sure what her hidden talent was, as I watched them disappear. That suspicion was confirmed while I was upstairs taking a piss. Suzi’s discarded top was lying on the hall floor and there were moans, shrieks and wild cries of “FUCK ME!!!” emanating from the bedroom. The object lesson was well-learned and I didn’t see Suzie again.

Meanwhile, I had finally taken care of my little virginity problem. It was almost the same situation. I was at one of those outdoor bashes in a local park. It was an event that the Greeks sometimes threw in the late summer. I was dateless as usual.

The party itself was being conducted from the back of a keg loaded F150. Which was parked in a lot next to a field. The whole area was surrounded by very thick woods. I was wandering-around drunkenly amongst those trees. That was mainly because I was fed up watching the men and women of Phi Alpha and Lambda Tau getting hammered.

Becoming totally shitfaced was such a weekly ritual with our student body that it made me wonder how the university had gotten its sterling academic reputation. I thought that it might be interesting to see what was back in the woods. Boredom loneliness and the foamy substance that they were handing out off the back of the pickup contributed to my curiosity.

I was stumbling aimlessly around in the woods when I encountered a female form. It looked like a sorority chick had crawled off into the underbrush to die. She was sprawled on her back underneath one of the trees, lying on a soft bed of pine needles and leafy debris. The vision was eerily reminiscent of the dead soldier scene from the Red Badge of Courage.

She was wearing a classic sun dress. And in her passing-out she had managed to ruck the hem of the dress so far up that it was like she had nothing on from the waist down, except a thong. I walked over and looked closer to see if she was dead. It was curiosity plain and simple. You don’t see a sight like that every day. I had no intention of doing anything more depraved than scoping out her bare legs and panty clad mound. And; yes, I know I’m a pervert. I’m a guy.

At that point, the body moaned drunkenly. And I squatted down to check her condition – not exactly Galahad but at least I was concerned. As I did, she opened her eyes, gazed blearily at me and muttered, “Who’re you???” I was about to answer when she said in a decisive voice, “Oh well!! You’ll do!!!” And she grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me down on top of her. I was flabbergasted. Like I said, I am not a man of action.

She put her feet behind my knees and started violently humping her very hot pussy against my rapidly growing package which was only clad in a bathing suit. She obviously could feel it because she let out a loud groan of sheer lust and in one motion yanked my cock out of the side of my speedos, pulled her thong aside and in probably five seconds I was buried to the hilt in a very hot and slippery slice of heaven.

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Story tagged with:
Consensual / Drunk/Drugged / NonConsensual /