Day 7 - Big Cock/First Time - Wednesday

AN: These characters are 18, but you already knew that.

“Hey, don’t ignore me,” A voice rasped dryly.

John looked up from his laptop. He hadn’t been ignoring anybody, at least not intentionally. He’d been trying to get some studying done. The week or two before midterms was one of those stretches where time had no actual meaning. He could have sworn that several days had passed between his first and second cup of coffee that morning. Though maybe that was the stress talking, and the second cup of coffee hadn’t helped with that.

The girl from his third period was sitting on the edge of the table looking at him like he’d personally pissed not only in her Wheaties but the whole rest of the breakfast too. She had ghostly raccoon rings of black eyeshadow and a dark crown braid to match. Her lips were sharp and upturned, her features strong, eyes demanding. If Siouxsie Sioux had seen her, she might have given her career second thoughts.

“I’m sorry, am I ignoring you?” John asked with genuine concern.

“I’ve been sitting here for five minutes,” She answered without a hint of emotion.

“Sorry, I was studying for my midterms-” John gestured at his laptop, she cut him off.

“Oh, good. You’re stressed about them too.” She said it wrong. There was something distinctly… skinwalker-y about the way she tried to carry her conversations. He was trying to remember her name, it was something vaguely new age-y and hippie-ish.

“Yes, I’m not sure I’ll pass Calc-”

“I’m not worried about any specific test, but I’m worried about all of them.” She kicked her legs idly, “Your name was Jack, right?”

“John, actually-” He narrowed his eyes.

“Nice to meet you Jack, I’m Wednesday,” She looked at him with way too much eye contact. “I need your help with something.”

“You could try asking more politely,” He scowled.

“Follow me.” She stood up off of the desk and gestured for him.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” John pointed at his laptop and the schoolbook he had open.

Wednesday gave him a look like she wasn’t expecting him to protest, and like she wasn’t used to not getting her way. She measured him with her eyes for a moment and adjusted the hem of her dress before taking a step toward him.

“Follow me, please.” She didn’t phrase it as a question or a request, merely repeating the statement with please at the end.

“No, I’m in the middle of-”

She stepped closer and looked at him more intensely. Her eyes were overly-wide and overly-white. He wouldn’t have gone so far as creepy, but there was definitely something off. Kooky, maybe, if you twisted his arm.

“Look, Chuck.” The quieter her voice got, the more it seemed to rasp, like a **** rattle. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. We can do it here, but people won’t like it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” John felt his gut turning in knots. People this used to getting their way weren’t dangerous, per se, but they had a sort of animal spite to them that you couldn’t trust.

“It’s a library,” She explained casually, “Voices might get raised, sudden movements and whatnot. You could get very, very emotional. They could write us up for making a scene.”

“Okay, fine,” John stood up and pushed his laptop and books into his bag. He got the distinct impression that she was threatening him. That she would be the one making a scene if he didn’t do what she wanted. “Where should we go?”

“Follow me.” She grabbed his hand.

They moved quickly out of the school library and through the hallways. It was mostly empty, but the few people who were still hanging around gave the odd couple some confused looks. She tended to be a pretty big lone wolf, for one. She was also easily a foot shorter than him and probably half his weight, but she was yanking him around while he had the sour, cowed face of somebody with no say in the matter. As they reached the end of the hallway and turned a corner, she yanked him into the women’s bathroom. The soft gray fluorescents suddenly turned warm and yellow against the peachy beige tiles. It was cleaner than the men’s room, or at least it looked like it on the surface. The closer you looked, the easier it was to make out scratched writing on the mirrors, just as much graffiti on the stalls as in the men’s.

“This is-” He started to protest.

“I know what it is,” She yanked him into the far stall and locked the door behind them, “If we make this quick, you won’t get caught.”

“Fine,” John sighed.

For a moment, she seemed to hesitate. As if now that she had him here and the time had actually come, she had lost some of the nerve she’d had bringing him. Her eyes scanned him up and down, flashing between several different emotions, maybe two or three of them recognizably human. After she took a breath and seemed to get her feet back under her, she put on a creepy, false smile and leaned toward him.

“So, Jim,” She took a slow breath and widened her already uncanny smile.

“What-”

“Word around school is you’ve got a big dick.”

He paused for a moment, then finally couldn’t hold back his laughter. John could hear his voice bouncing off of the walls and likely out into the hallway as he doubled over, but he couldn’t help himself. If there was anybody around, he was going to get them caught, and he couldn’t stop it. It was a tremendous release of nervous tension, and Wednesday looked at him in mixed confusion and anger.

“You’re fucking with me,” He finally managed to compose himself.

“Do you not?” She asked indignantly.

“What the fuck- Who put you onto this?” He turned, still laughing, to reach for the door. “Was it Jeremy? Chris?”

She grabbed his wrist sharply before he could undo the lock and wrenched him around. No matter how small she was, she was way stronger than he ever would have guessed. Her eyes were glaring daggers that seemed to shoot right through his skull. The only kind of eye contact she knew how to give was too much.

“Do you not have a big dick?” She asked slowly and venomously.

“Why the fuck are you asking?” He hissed in discomfort as she kept squeezing his wrist. She must have been a wrestler or known some martial art or another.

“Obviously because I want to know,” Wednesday sounded almost dumbfounded by his questions. “But since you don’t want to answer, you can either take your pants off or I can help you.”

“Whatever, let go and I’ll take them off,” He scowled. “You could have just asked if you wanted to see it.”

“I am,” She let go of his wrist.

“I mean like… nicely.” He rubbed his wrist for a moment before starting to undo his belt.

“I am not your friend.” Wednesday responded casually, eyes suddenly locked between his legs. “I don’t want anything about this to be nice.”

“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” John unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans before pushing them and his boxers down.

Wednesday didn’t respond, though the answer to the question probably would have been long enough that it wasn’t worth giving. She looked at his exposed dick with another expression that would have required a psycho-to-english translator. It seemed somewhere between disgust and interest, even a touch of fear.

“That does seem large,” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “How big is it?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t measured it.” John responded angrily.

“You’re a teenage boy, of course you’ve measured it.” She looked up from his crotch to his eyes and he wished she hadn’t. The longer he looked into her eyes, the deeper and emptier they seemed to get.

“Jeez, I measured it hard once like a year ago,” He reached to pull up his pants.

“And how big was it?” She looked back down.

“Like nine inches?” He shrugged, “A little more?”

“Excellent,” She said it like Dr. Mengele must have. “That is exceptionally large. Freakishly above average.”

“Great, thanks.” John started to pull his pants up.

She stepped forward and pushed him against the stall door to stop him, then dropped to her knees. Wednesday’s small hands closed around his shaft with a firmness to their grip that suggested he was going to lose it if he tried to move it. She looked up at him and gave another skinwalker smile, then tightened her grip ever so slightly.

“Hey, whoah-” John gasped.

“I heard from Amy that you were too big for her.” She remarked casually. “That even with a bunch of lube and after a lot of foreplay, it was still very painful for her and unsatisfying for both of you.”

“That’s…” He swallowed heavily and felt a pang of shame. It was mostly true. She’d left out the part where Amy had broken up with him shortly after. “Amy told you that?”

“Amy told the girl’s locker room that.” Wednesday commented idly. Her hands were almost robotically still and her eyes kept moving from his cock to his face. Neither made him very comfortable. “Her sexual exploits are one of the only things she seems comfortable holding a conversation about.”

“Great,” John grumbled.

“That makes you perfect for what I want.” Wednesday looked up at him until he had to look away. “Especially considering I’m a virgin and Amy isn’t.”

“Look, if this is some kind of game-” He started, but her hands squeezed harder.

“I need something to take my mind off of midterms, and your cock is oversized enough that it should do the trick.” She gave a halfhearted pump with her hands.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-” John didn’t know why he bothered, it just made her tighten her hands further.

“If my goal was for it to be pleasurable, no, it wouldn’t be a good idea.” Wednesday frowned without it reaching her eyes, just like when she smiled. “I do not like you. I am not having sex with you out of love. I want you to hurt me and I want my body to learn a lesson and stop trying to distract me.”

“Does it actually work like that?” He whimpered. She was holding him too tightly at this point. If she expected him to get hard, she was going to need to back off.

“I don’t know, idiot. I’m a virgin.” She looked back down and pointed the head of his cock at her face. “That’s what you’re going to help me find out.”

Before he could speak again, Wednesday had slid his head past her lips and closed them around his shaft. He pushed out an involuntarily shaky breath and gripped for something to hold onto. She seemed to get what was going on enough to relax her grip just slightly, and despite her inexperience she was making every effort to keep her blowjob tooth-free. One of her hands kept a slightly too-firm grip on his shaft and the other started to massage his balls awkwardly, rubbing and pulling and scratching in a series of motions that had clearly been observed before but never performed. At the same time she tried to gorge herself on his dick, shoving as much of it into her throat as she could before she finally shook with a gag. She had gotten further down than he would have expected, and seemingly farther than she had expected as well. Her makeup-ringed eyes were wide and perplexed as she rammed his head over and over against the point that made her gag forcefully. Then it simply seemed to give out and he slid further down her throat, then the process repeated again. In an impressively short amount of time, her lips were pressing against the base of his cock. Wednesday looked annoyed by this.

“Damn,” She pulled him out of her mouth, leaving trails of saliva from her lips to his only semi-hard cock. There were small, almost imperceptible streaks starting at the corners of her eyes and moving down the dark raccoon circles around them. “I have my mother’s gag reflex.”

“How do you-”

“Hurry up and get hard,” She grabbed his cock around the base and slapped the tip of it against the palm of her other hand like she was playing with a toy that bored her. “This is clearly going nowhere.”

His cock went right back in her mouth again and slid back down her throat. She kept looking up at him expectantly as she speared herself on it, rolling her head back and forth as she rocked on her knees, eyes locked constantly on his. It certainly wasn’t making it easier to perform under the circumstances. At the same time, nobody had ever taken him this deep before. He wondered if anybody would again. His cock twitched as it neared full hardness, and that seemed to make her gag. She looked up at him almost gratefully as she did, but as soon as it was over again she went right back to annoyed. He was hard, or at least hard enough.

“Are you ready or do I need to get you some viagra?” Despite her face being a sloppy mess of spit and running makeup, her voice hadn’t shifted an iota from the utter casual disdain she spoke to him with.

“I’m hard enough…” John realized he had gotten out of breath at some point. “But it’s probably not going-”

Wednesday stood up suddenly enough and straight enough that she nearly slammed the top of her head into his chin. She looked at him, inches from his face, then took a step back and raised the hem of her skirt. The skin of her thighs was a smooth, milky white up from the top of her ink-dark stockings. Her stomach was smooth, her skin as unmarked by blemishes as if she’d been grown in a lab. That only drew more attention to the thick mess of black pubes on her mound, they seemed to end suddenly and totally before reaching her thighs or up toward her waist. Like she carefully shaved her whole body down to the follicle, but didn’t touch between her legs. He could make out a little wet tuft stuck together like a cowlick.

“If you don’t need any more help, then stop wasting time and stick that oversized dick in me.” She sounded genuinely impatient. Not even horny, just ready to be anywhere else.

“You didn’t wear any…” He let himself trail off because he’d been expecting to be cut off, but he wasn’t.

“Any what?” She asked as she furrowed her brow.

“Well, any underwear.” He responded dumbly.

She looked at him for a long moment like he had grown a second head, and also like she wasn’t sure if she should scold him for suddenly breaking the etiquette of expected anatomy by doing so. After a moment, she seemed to decide on anger.

“Of course I didn’t wear any-” Wednesday suddenly trailed off as she kept looking at him.

“I didn’t-” He started.

“Oh, does the thought of that arouse you?” The anger quickly slipped from her face and was replaced with the skinwalker smile. She spoke like she understood the concept of dirty talk but had hoped it would be something that only happened to other people. “Do you like picturing me walking around without any underwear on?”

“I guess?” John kept looking at the dark tangle of pubes between her legs. If anybody caught her at the right angle, they might have mistook her for wearing panties. “How long were-”

“Not during gym, don’t be stupid.” The skinwalker smile went back away. “But since I decided to do this a week ago-”

“You’ve been planning this for-”

“Don’t interrupt me, it’s very rude.” She smiled humorlessly. This wasn’t the skinwalker smile, she might have actually found that funny. “Now are you going to fuck me or what?”

“I don’t think it’s going to fit.” John responded flatly.

“That’s the point, idiot. I want you to ram it into me. Make me scream, make me bleed. Don’t take no for an answer. Be a big, dumb, eighteen-year old boy.” There was no edge of hesitation or self-loathing to it. He half-expected that she was going to enjoy it.

“I'm saying it might not be possible-”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Wednesday grabbed him by the shirt collar and yanked him over toward the toilet. Again showing much more strength than he would have thought possible. She sat him forcefully down onto it and then stepped up to straddle him, looking down into his eyes like an ant under a magnifying glass. “You’re a boy. I’m a girl. The parts go together. Babies come out if you’re unlucky.”

“Unlucky?” John yelped.

“Relax, I’m not taking those chances.” Wednesday lined up the head of his cock with something slick and soft in the mess of dark pubes. “Pregnancy isn’t going to help my midterm stress.”

John reached out to push her away, setting his hands on her hips and trying to unalign their crotches. She looked at him curiously, like she was genuinely unsure what he was trying to do. Then after a few seconds she grabbed both of his wrists and lifted them up over his head. She moved them both to the grip of one hand easily, managing to squeeze both wrists tight enough to hurt while she maneuvered their sexes back together with her other hand.

“Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I have to tolerate your idiotic pawing and groping,” She hissed.

“This needs to stop-” John gave his best effort to squirm and protest.

“It’s late for that, John,” She looked at him in a way so cold and so scathing that he realized she had - somehow - been showing good humor and candor up until now. “You think I won’t scream if I need to? You think I won’t draw whatever teacher or security guard is still patrolling around campus?”

She held both of them in place for a moment while she looked into his eyes, lips slightly parted and eyebrows raised just enough like she was playing with him. When he finally looked away and held still, Wednesday started to push her crotch down toward him. He could feel the hot, wet skin of her pussy trying to spread around him. Her face contorted in a genuinely distressed way for the first time that he had seen, but like everything else it didn’t reach her eyes. As she bit her lip and wiggled her hips and tried to find some way to cram him in, her eyes remained as empty and cold as ever. He could feel her, millimeter by millimeter, spreading herself around him and slipping him in. His dick was trying to bend away or slide out of place, but her grip was tight enough to prevent it. As her folds finally parted enough to accept his head, her lips opened to reveal an even set of teeth grinding awkwardly as she smiled.

“Oh my god, Jake,” She pitched her voice just a bit and suddenly put a world of emotion into it while her face remained flat, “You’re so fucking big, Jack, you’re spreading me so much!”

“Stop it,” He groaned. She was so tight around him that he didn’t expect he’d be getting much out of it either.

“That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?” It wasn’t a taunt, she seemed genuinely confused.

“No?”

“Hm,” Her face settled back down, though her eye twitched in discomfort as she continued to **** him inside of her. She squeezed like a tourniquet, but it seemed to be more uncomfortable to him than to her. “The stretch is absolute agony, but it’s not what I had hoped. I need you to get deeper into me faster so you can start thrusting and really wound me. Knock against my cervix or something like that.”

“I can’t really-”

“Obviously you can’t.” Wednesday wiggled her hips, her cunt made a wet sound of protest, trying to seal airtight around something that kept shifting and changing angle. She started trying to bounce her hips like she was jumping up and down, and that managed to ram him into her faster, though judging by her expression, not as fast as she’d have liked. Her eye was twitching much more intensely now. “That… that was much more painful. Unfortunately, there are diminishing returns.”

She let go of him and grabbed the toilet seat with both hands, grunting slightly with effort as she tried to pull herself down. Mostly it just hurt his hips. Frowning, she went back to bouncing until she had finally **** herself down close to the base.

“I don’t think this is working,” John said awkwardly.

“No, it obviously isn’t. Simply touching my cervix is not as painful as I had hoped. I need you to actually be thrusting.” She looked at him quizzically. “Now that I’ve done most of the work, do you think you could pull your weight?”

“Yeah, I-” John sighed. “Whatever.”

Wednesday stood up off of his waist with a wince and looked at him awkwardly until he stood up. She stepped over and put her hands against the wall before bending and sticking her ass back toward him. It was a nice butt, all things considered, despite her having a pretty slight frame. John positioned himself behind her as best he could, bending his knees enough to line their hips up, then tried to push back in. It was easier than the first time, but only just. She was still uncomfortably tight around him, he would have given anything for some proper lube. Not that her spit and wetness wasn’t working, but a gallon of the real stuff might not have been enough to make it feel easier.

“Hm, you feel even more grotesquely large from this angle.” She wiggled her hips back at him, “I can really feel you pressing against my cervix like this.”

“Is it… good?” He asked, hovering his hands over her instead of gripping her.

“Very painful. Start thrusting.”

John started trying to buck his hips weakly without touching before giving up and grabbing her hips gingerly. She didn’t immediately turn around and hurt him, so that was progress. Her pale skin reddened easily under his touch. The lips of her pussy gripped him tightly both pulling out and pushing in, so he moved slowly at first. But after a series of annoyed grunts from Wednesday, he picked up the pace. It felt wrong. Skin rubbing against skin where it shouldn’t have, things bending, knocking against each other too harshly. She was making a face like she was concentrating, a light sweat on her forehead but nowhere else. Looking down, he could see her legs wobbling. He would have liked to stop.

“This is wrong,” She grumbled. “Make it hurt more.”

“I don’t-” He started, then sighed in frustration.

Wednesday’s ass was dry, but he pushed his finger in anyway. Her face fluctuated for a moment, then suddenly went even paler. Her lips parted slightly, and she made a croaking, ****-rattle like sound. He didn’t realize what was happening until he felt her already tight cunt clench around him and felt a wet little squirt dripping down both of their thighs. Her nipples were poking through her dress, her eyes were rolled back in her head.

“Ah, stop-” She finally sputtered weakly after quivering for a few seconds. It sounded like somebody else’s voice. “Take it out.”

He pulled both finger and cock out gingerly. Wednesday took a moment, legs shaking as she braced against the wall and holes winking back at him. Then she seemed to gather herself and straightened up, adjusting her dress and looking at him like she was accusing him. A slight hint of a natural, human-looking smile on her lips.

“That was not-” Her voice was a little shaky and she took a moment to get it under composure, seemingly more concerned by the momentary slip-up than anything else. “That was not the intended course of events, but I feel more relaxed than I did before.”

“Glad to hear it,” John looked at her in confusion.

“We should do this again,” Wednesday adjusted her dress again. “Midterms are not my only stressor.”

“I’d rather-” John started, but Wednesday walked past him, patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, then left the stall.

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