Obsession and Submission
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This is a story about female domination and male submission.
This is a fictional work. The characters and description of events are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older.
It was my junior year of college. It was our first day back.
Fall in the Northeast was heaven. I watched my breath curl in the air in the early morning as I walked to the School of Business, tucked away in a corner of this Ivy League college’s campus. I’m not going to tell you the name of the school because I’m not a braggart. To the contrary, I’ve always undersold myself. But as I learned later in life, under sell and over deliver.
But I digress. The School of Business bore the name of the person that donated $50 million to build this magnificent structure. I opened the heavy glass front door of the building’s atrium, walking over to the directory to locate room 316A.
Third floor, three doors down from the elevator on the right.
There was a throng of students around me, all craning their necks to look at the directory, the same as me. I politely pushed my way through the crowd to get to my class, the buzz of excitement on the first day infecting me as well.
I entered the classroom for the first time. It looked like it held about 80 students in stadium type seating, with four semicircular rows of seats. I was one of the first to arrive so I staked out a seat in the last row with a good sightline to the professor, but also to check out the women that would be in my class.
Ahhhh, women. Now there’s a short subject for me. I was sort of the brain in high school, graduating valedictorian and all that other honor society bullshit. But my average looks and possibly intimidating intellect (I didn’t think so, but so I’ve been told), discouraged any sort of prospect of scoring heavily in high school. I watched as a bystander as the hot women in my high school were scooped up by the better looking males.
My sexual resume was short. My first stirrings regarding the fairer sex were in eighth grade, where Mary Jane Johansson didn’t remember her mother’s instructions to keep her knees together. It was always a treat in my English class to see what color panties Mary Jane was wearing that day. I got a thrill seeing the inside of her thighs and the thought of what lay beyond her pastel colored panties.
Then there was the heart stopping moment. I was in tenth grade. My sister Gina was home on summer break from her junior year in college. She was always such a fucking creep to me. She used to giggle with her pimply faced girlfriends as they slammed her bedroom door in my face. I have to say though, that my sister was a looker, and it also, but shouldn’t have, caused stirrings deep within my body when I saw her bras (34D) hung up in our shared bathroom off of the shower curtain rod or her soiled panties absentmindedly tossed on the floor. I’m ashamed to say it but I did sniff her unwashed bras and damp panties while masturbating to get a thrill, imagining her being banged by some well hung guy with her big tits flopping about.
So anyway, it was in early June, just after my last day of school, when I went into my room and noticed that some of my hidden whiskey stash (behind my baseball gear in the back of my closet, if you must know) was missing. There was only one person who knew about this stash and that was my sister.
I ran down the hallway and flung her door open, ready to accuse her of stealing my whiskey. But my mouth opened and nothing came out. Laying on the floor with his pants and tidy whities down to his ankles was her then boyfriend Rafael, who was receiving apparently satisfying oral worship from my sister. She was on the downstroke with her glorious snow white tits hanging down, when I became an unintended audience of one. Rafael was pretty well hung (though I must say not as well as me) and every inch of what he had was on display. Instead of screaming, my sister calmly pulled off his rock hard cock, wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand, and said, “Get the fuck out of my bedroom.”
I did, but I guess if it was any consolation I did see my whisky bottle (empty) on the floor amid all of their clothes.
I beat off to that scene for at least two years.
I did count three and a half girlfriends in my life, the girl I took to senior prom (second base) who was in my AP English class and who was relatively attractive and had the same issue I did, an intellect that scared others away. We liked each other but there wasn’t a deeper attraction, to the extent there can be a deeper attraction when you’re eighteen. She only counted as a half since we never did consummate our relationship. One day when we were exploring that possibility she pulled my underwear down, looked at my equipment, sized up her pussy, and said no thank you. I guess I should have taken that rejection as a compliment.
In my first two etiler escort years of college I had three girlfriends, if you count a one night stand. I finally lost my virginity my freshman year, sometime between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. in an absolutely drunken stupor. I’m actually not sure I got my cock in her but she assured me the next day that I did and that I was “fine.”
The other two times I actually had multiple dates. In each case there wasn’t that vital spark (at least that’s what they told me) and we went our separate ways. I did discover that I enjoyed sex but didn’t understand the overwhelming urges that other men my age were feeling. Perhaps, I thought, I hadn’t found my true calling.
My usual modus operandi was to check out all of the females in my classes and try to find the one I coveted the most. Then when I got bored during the lecture I would taste some of the eye candy that I’d located. It worked. It’s got me through my statistics class, where I was ready to gouge my eyes out due to terminal boredom. Fortunately, Rose was in that class. Rose of the impossibly tight sweaters with big fucking tits. I think I spent at least half of the class staring at those gorgeous lumps of flesh. Every day I would wonder what sweater Rose would wear and how much cleavage she would allow others to see. I never got closer than ten feet to her, but I do owe gratitude for my good eyesight and her crotch arousing chest.
The people were filing into this introductory accounting course in bigger numbers now. I’d settled into my seat and was watching as each of them found theirs. I must have been distracted looking the other direction because a woman sat to my left, two rows down, that absolutely captivated my attention. I later found out her name was Jessica. She was chatting with a woman to her right so I was able to see the top half of her body and her face.
My dick went immediately hard.
If you could make up in your mind your vision of the most perfect woman in the world Jessica would kick that woman’s ass, both literally and figuratively.
She was a brassy platinum blonde. She was wearing a sweater, not too tight like Rose, but tight enough so that everyone would know what was underneath it. If we were in geography class we would have been studying her tits as two twin peaks in the Himalayas that men were still attempting to scale. I was in awe, as was every red blooded male in the room. The room absolutely reeked of her sexiness. A powerful urge rumbled deep within me. This woman moved me. I wanted her.
She was chatting with her seatmate next to her but you knew that she was putting on a show for all around. She was used to being the center of attention, and flexed her sexual power in the same way you would breath. It was instinctive and natural to her. It was the privilege and the price a drop dead gorgeous woman must enjoy and pay on a daily basis.
I could swear that while she was chatting up her neighbor that her eyes caught mine and that a wry smile formed on her face. Perhaps it happened just in my mind. But my dick knew. It throbbed uncomfortably in my pants at the mere possibility that she was looking at me.
I don’t even remember what the professor looked like or what was discussed in class. All I remember is watching Jessica get up at the end of class, stretch her arms over her head as if she needed to limber up, and leaving no doubt that she was the cock of the walk. As her arms reached skyward her sweater tightened around her chest, making crystal clear that her impressive natural breasts were a force to be reckoned with. The men in her immediate area couldn’t help noticing that they were in the midst of a proverbial sexual black hole, her aura exercising irresistible gravitational pull to all who were near her.
I knew then that she was a dream, an unattainable dream. The vision of her served as the anchor of my masturbatory fantasies for that semester. It also encouraged me to make every one of my basic accounting classes, even though I found the material to be easy and boring.
I didn’t come from a wealthy family so I had to work during the school year to pay for my tuition. I found a position as a house manager for a fraternity that provided me with free room and board. It’s a fraternity that wouldn’t have me as one of their members, me being not rich enough or good looking enough to even attempt to pledge.
I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a Saturday in late October. I was in my room on the ground floor of the frat house, folding my laundry when there was a sharp rap on the front door. I ignored the knocking, figuring that whomever invited this person would answer the door. I went back to my laundry basket.
More knocking, this time more urgent.
“God damn it. Will somebody get the door?” I yelled out of my room.
Hearing nothing, I reluctantly put down my laundry and made the fifty foot walk to the front door. I opened it, half looking and half ready to walk away with gebze escort the door open. Then I saw it was Jessica.
My mouth dropped open.
“Is Duke here?” she asked sweetly.
I was flustered. As I floundered in front of her, she politely walked by me and called from the entranceway.
“Duke?” Even her voice was sexy.
Carl “Duke” Davidson was one of the few friends I had in the frat house. He was born and raised in Ames, Iowa and was recruited by the head coach of the football team to anchor their offensive line. He was a big farm boy who was unfairly blessed with movie star good looks. He was pretty smart, but struggled in some of his classes. That’s where I came in. I tutored him in a number of his classes, and in return he protected me from any potential abuse from the other frat members. Everyone else knew it was hands off of Daniel unless they wanted to deal with Duke. No one wanted to deal with Duke.
“Hey babe,” came a voice from above. His shiny black hair on top of his flawlessly complected face suddenly came into view, a veritable man of muscle. That was my best buddy “Duke,” previously the State of Iowa’s Football Player of the Year. The chisel broke a couple of times when his body was sculpted. OK, so you get the idea. The guy was built like a brick shithouse and now he was for real going to bone the woman of my dreams. Jessica. She was standing right in front of me, her eyes gazing upward at a mountain of flesh bounding down the stairs.
And Dukie was no galoot. I’d spent a fair amount of time with him and the two of us kind of bonded. As I said, he’s the only friend I had in this house. He was fairly well spoken, as I remember getting into an argument about whether the EEC should prop up the value of the euro. He knew a fair bit about sports, and we discussed the more technical aspects of his position, which was left tackle.
So I backed up so I was not made into sandwich meat by the two fast approaching lovers. They met in a mass of arms and legs thrown around one another. I could see her massive tits mashing up against his rippled chest. I wanted to faint. Her head leaned back as she swooned, to be caught with his muscular arm, where he tenderly raised her up to kiss her lightly on the lips. It was clear now that Duke had also spent a considerable amount of his time off the field chasing woman. His technique was flawless.
Duke threw his arm under my Goddess and carried her upstairs to his bedroom. As they passed by he had a glint in his eye and winked at me. Lucky bastard. Duke was my buddy and now he was going to fuck my dream girl.
He carried her upstairs in his arms as if he was carrying something no heavier than a newspaper. She stirred, wrapping her arms around his thickly muscled neck and kissing him over and over on his cheek. I was looking upward as if I was staring at two angels ascending to heaven.
I heard the door to Duke’s room slam. Of course you would know it, his room was directly over mine. I could usually tell how good the girl that he’s sleeping with by how long the hammering sound lasts. He was a marathon fucker. I knew from the sleepless nights when Duke would wake up and get seconds in the middle of the night.
So I couldn’t keep myself away from my room. I knew it was going to be torture to hear the sounds of Duke violating my princess. Over and over. So I heard footsteps, then two thuds that I knew from experience are their bodies hitting the bed. I was sprawled on my bed, naked, listening to the bed above me starting to rattle. Then the steady drumbeat of the bed’s legs against the floor. I turned to check that my door was locked. I moved my trusty right hand to position as I strained to hear the moans as the steady boom from the bed legs drowned out most of sounds of their lovemaking. I imagined Duke first. I’d seen his shirtless so I had a good mental picture of him. Then Jessica. I’d spent so much time imagining what lay beneath those magical sweaters. Her tits, so large, but shapely, with long pink nipples, hanging as if berries to pluck with your tongue. I started stroking myself, and experiencing that familiar tingling feeling. I focused on the noises coming from above, picturing Duke and Jessica fucking like wild animals, her on top with her tits bouncing up and down as she rode Duke’s massive dick. The pounding continued but my time had come (or cum?). I struggled to suppress my orgasm, wanting to cum at the same time as the couple above. The pounding above stopped. My hand stopped. I started to come down until I heard the big titted blonde yelling “Yeah, yeah, eat it!” at the top of her lungs. Duke must have stopped the fucking and gone down on her.
The pounding then continued. I started to get hard again so I started rubbing the underside of my dick. Finally, above the sound of the pounding I heard, “Oh, oh, oh, oh.” I knew that Jessica was close to another cataclysmic orgasm so I starting stoking hard, as I heard “FUCK YES” reverberating off of my walls as if she göztepe escort was shouting it in my room. I came all over myself. Part of the wad hit my face. My hand was covered in a cumslide spewing out of my cock. I felt as if I was cumming inside Jessica. My head was pounding and my temples were throbbing. As I got up to clean myself up I started to hear pounding again. Round Two. Jessica was a good one.
I buried my head between two pillows, finally falling asleep sometime between Rounds Three and Four. The next morning I was supposed to meet a dishwasher service man at 7:30 a.m. I set my alarm for 7:29. I woke up and threw on a sweatshirt and walked into the kitchen bleary-eyed, there to see Jessica, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, sipping a mug of hot coffee as if she had eight hours of beauty sleep. She looked perfect. I looked like a piece of shit.
She wiggled her finger at me. That beautiful finger on that beautiful hand that was connected to the beautiful body. “You’re in my accounting class,” she uttered as if she was seeing me for the first time.
My eyes brightened. She recognized me. OK, she spent the last eight hours fucking my housemate silly while I listened, but she recognized me! “Uh, yeah, I think I’ve seen you in that class,” I said as suavely and nonchalantly as I could.
She threw her head back and laughed, tousling those perfect platinum blonde locks and jiggling those perfect enormous tits. “You stare at my tits in every class.”
My dick, which was starting to get hard at the sight of Jessica, now shriveled up and retreated inside my body. She not only noticed me, she could see me sneaking looks at her luscious tits. She then gave me a big smile. “Hey, when I came in yesterday I noticed that your room was directly under Duke’s. Am I right about that?”
I nodded my head sheepishly.
“You heard some good fucking last night.” She laid it on the line. No words minced here.
I wasn’t quite sure how to react to that comment. I nodded again. “Yes I did.”
“Did you hear me yell ‘Fuck Yes’?”
“I did.” Boy did I. I came when I heard those words. It was one of the best orgasms of my short life.
“That was for you. I knew you’d be listening.” I was stunned at that admission. For me? Why? But I couldn’t ask her why, could I?
She instantly relieved the suspense. “You’re probably wondering why I said it for you. I did it cause I like you.”
My head was spinning into outer space. This goddess of a woman liked me? Why?
She could clearly read me like an open book. “I know you’re wondering why I like you. I love men that love to look at me. And you’re kinda cute.”
My dick got immediately hard again. And not only because it my goddess of an angel talking. It was something about the thought that she would be fucking someone else but thinking about me. That was hot. Really hot.
She gave me a peck on the cheek as she left the kitchen. “Gotta go. Don’t want to be late for our 8 a.m. accounting exam.”
“Oh fuck,” I said as I ran to my room. Jessica’s appearance yesterday totally distracted me. I completely forgot about my test. I now had only 23 minutes to get dressed and run across campus for my exam.
Suffice to say it was not my best performance in my accounting class. I didn’t even make the top 3 posted scores, where usually I’m first. This time a “Regina Andrews” was first. That was an intriguing name. Maybe I should get to know her to distract me from Jessica.
I saw Jessica at our house two days later when I came home from class. She was sprawled on the sofa eating popcorn and watching some cornball 70’s comedy. She was laughing at some gag when she turned her head, and recognizing me, said, “How are you doing Daniel?”
Well I’ll be damned. She was calling me by my full given name. “Why, I’m fine Jessica. Thank you for asking. How are you?”
She started giggling. I think my heart was melting at that point. “Cut the shit Danny boy.”
OK, it was time to be serious. “I’m doing fine. I was a little annoyed at my last test score in accounting. Didn’t even finish in the top three. Some bimbo named Regina Andrews was first.”
She turned over on the sofa so her bubble butt was in the air and her face was in the palm of her hands.
“So a girl beat you huh?”
“Yeah, well it wasn’t my best day. Seems I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep that night.” I gave her my saddest face.
She smiled. “Yeah, but you weren’t getting pounded all night by 10 inches of man meat.”
“Just my ceiling,” I half-heartedly joked.
“Well, let me tell you I didn’t walk quite straight for the whole day.”
Now by dick was threatening to break out of my pants. This was not going unnoticed.
Jessica stared directly at the large lump in my pants. “I guess you got a problem you should take care of right away.”
Embarrassed, I made up some lame excuse about having to study and beat a hasty retreat to my room. I could hear her laughing through the door. My traitorous dick didn’t surrender. It advanced. It was harder than ever. I had to take matters into my own hands to relieve the tension. Of course it made it that much more intense to know that Jessica was in the next room and that she knew precisely what I was doing.
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