Sophie had always been the good girl back home—top of her class, captain of the debate team, the kind of girl who spent Friday nights buried in books rather than boys. But college was supposed to be different. At 18, freshly arrived at State University, she craved reinvention. Her roommate, Mia, a wild sophomore with a penchant for short skirts and even shorter flings, dragged her to the frat party that fateful night. “You need to loosen up, Soph,” Mia teased, shoving a red solo cup into her hand. “Find a hot guy and let him rock your world.”

The party throbbed with bass-heavy music, bodies grinding in the dim light of string lights and neon signs. Sophie felt out of place in her modest jeans and tank top, sipping her beer tentatively as she scanned the room. That’s when she saw him: Kendrick Lamar—no, not the rapper, but the star quarterback of the university’s football team. He stood head and shoulders above the crowd, his dark skin glistening under the lights, muscles rippling beneath a tight white tee that clung to his broad chest like a second skin. Whispers followed him everywhere: “He’s hung like a horse,” one girl giggled to her friend. “BBC king of campus.” Sophie didn’t know what BBC meant at first, but the way the girls eyed him made her cheeks flush.

Their eyes locked across the room. Kendrick’s gaze was intense, predatory, like he could see right through her innocent facade. He sauntered over, a cocky grin spreading across his full lips. “You look like you could use some company, freshman,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, sending shivers down her spine.

“I’m Sophie,” she stammered, her heart pounding.

“Kendrick. Wanna dance?”

Before she could protest, his large hands were on her waist, pulling her into the rhythm of the music. His body pressed against hers, hard and unyielding. She felt something massive brush against her thigh—oh God, was that...? Her mind raced. The alcohol buzzed in her veins, making her bold. She ground back against him, feeling his arousal grow, thick and insistent. “You’re trouble,” she whispered, but her body betrayed her excitement.

“Only the best kind,” he murmured into her ear, his breath hot. “Come back to my dorm. I promise you’ll scream my name.”

Sophie’s pussy clenched at his words. She’d only had fumbling high school encounters—nothing like this. But the thrill of the unknown, the forbidden allure of this black Adonis, overpowered her hesitation. “Okay,” she breathed.

The walk to his dorm was a blur of stolen kisses and groping hands. Kendrick’s room was a typical athlete’s lair: posters of NFL stars, a king-sized bed dominating the space, and the faint scent of sweat and cologne. He locked the door behind them, his eyes darkening with lust. “Strip for me, baby. Show me that tight little body.”

Sophie’s hands trembled as she peeled off her tank top, revealing her perky B-cup breasts encased in a lacy white bra. Kendrick licked his lips, palming the bulge in his jeans. She shimmied out of her jeans next, standing before him in just her panties, which were already soaked. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, stepping closer.