Free First Times: Nine Tales of Innocence Lost by Natalie Deschain

shrieked, balling my hands into fists. “I’m eighteen years old. I’m a college student. I’m an adult.”
    My chest turned to ice. I couldn’t breath. A little sob choked out of my throat and I shrank against the door, hugging the seat belt. My tears burned. I was crying.  
    “Wait here,” he said, flatly, and left the car running.  
    He came back, tossed some frozen hot dogs and buns in the back of the car, got in. We rode back in silence. By the time we got back to the pool, I had stopped crying. When I got out I said to him,
    “I’m not a little girl.”  
    I didn’t help him carry the stuff back, or talk to him for the rest of the day. Instead I blew off my duties and got in the pool myself, and splashed around to hide the wetness on my cheeks.  

    After that, things were tense. I showed up on time, and so did he, no more morning swims. We talked only to exchange pleasantries and discuss our duties. I tried with all my might to just ignore him, but I couldn’t stop looking.  
    I don’t think he could, either.  

    The pool was open for another week, but it was my last day. My things were packed, and tomorrow we would load up the cars, my parents’ and mine, and I would go to live in the dorm. It was a Thursday, and the place was dead, and unbearably hot. I sat for most of the day at the plastic table, in the shade. Jim watched the empty pool, leaning on his knees up on the lifeguard stand.  
    When the day was finally over and I locked the front gate, he was waiting for me.  
    “I’m sorry,” he said, very quietly.  
    I stared at him. “For what?”  
    “Before. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just…”  
    “Just what?”  
    He bit his lip, and my heart melted. If he asked for my forgiveness right then, I would have given in it. Instead he walked off, to change. I headed in the locker room to collect my things. Summer was over. I had to put this all out of my mind and get on with my life.  
    I heard the creak of the door swinging and turned. There he was.  
    We were both barefoot. He towered over me, and he was between me and the door. My stomach fluttered. The look in his eyes was… complex. I stood still, and he moved closer, and closer, taking small steps towards me. HIs hand fell on my shoulder and squeezed, and he pulled the strap of my bathing suit to the side, baring the strip of white where it had formed a tan line over the summer.  
    I sucked in a sharp breath and looked into his eyes. He hooked his fingers through both straps and yanked me towards him. I fell against his body and his hands surged over my form, pressing and squeezing.  
    He almost picked me up off the floor, gripping my ass in both hands, turned me around, and spun me into the lockers. He pressed against me, grinding his hardon between my legs. I felt the heat of it against my throbbing pussy as his hands moved up my sides and his tongue pressed into my mouth, sliding hot and wet over my lip.  
    I just melted. I was his. I moaned into his mouth and he kissed me harder, sliding one hand behind my head to knot his fingers in my hair. His tight hard stomach clenched in involuntary pushes, pressing his erection into me through his shorts.  
    My hands snaked down his sides and shoved his trunks down. He wasn’t wearing anything under them. I spread my hands wide and cupped his ass, feeling the muscle flex, and a jolt of pure need ran through my body, shooting up from between my legs.  
    Oh. My. God.  
    He didn’t stop. His fingers pushed inside my bathing suit and slid over my wet folds and he gasped, and started sucking and nibbling my throat as I undulated against him. I shoved his shorts away and grabbed his cock in my hand, squeezing so hard he jerked away for an instant before thrusting through my grip. He was huge.  
    He lifted up enough for me to look into his eyes, and scrubbed his other hand over my head, running his fingers through my sweat-sticky hair