School.

Nothing unusual happens at school the next day until you notice that Jessica is gone from your second period. She never missed school before. Academically, she was a dedicated student as well as one of the most beautiful and most popular girls. You wouldn’t say you’re friends with her, but due to having known each other since first grade and being in the same classes, it’s not uncommon for you to have casual conversations with both her and her football player boyfriend, Brad, so there’s a familiarity between you and them that allows you to ask him where his girlfriend is when you pass by his locker.

“She’s about to have the baby, dude!” he says.

From your perspective, before you wrote the rule, a baby wouldn’t have fit into Jessica’s aspirations of attending university. You know that Jessica and Brad rarely ever had penetrative sex, which was accepted without compunction by both.

“Congratulations!” you say.

“Thanks!”

His smile fades and he shakes his head.

“It’s too bad that she’s gonna have to put off going to uni, like she wanted, though. She’s just so damn smart that she really deserves to go, even if her grades have been slipping further the more she’s become obsessed with sex. Did you hear about that new thing that men can apparently do? Well, they can hold off from cumming. If I had been able to do that 8 months ago when she jumped me while we were sitting on her bed, this whole thing might not have happened.”

“That’s assuming it’s your baby,” Brad’s friend says from behind him. “It could be mine.”

The Brad you knew was a gentleman, but he was also not afraid to throw punches to defend his lady’s honor. Instead, this Brad laughs.

“Even if that’s true, I know she loves me,” Brad says. “Her libido is too high for her to have been able to control herself when you were taking care of her while I was gone at football summer camp.”

Brad’s friend puts an arm around over his shoulder.

“Believe me, I wish I had been able to hold back my cum, too.”

The weirdness level is getting to where you feel like you or everybody else is going insane, so you move on to your next class.

In your next class, calculus, you sit next to Julie. Yes, you’re not a complete nervous wreck around girls you like. You’re still capable of doing some things without the rulebook’s help.

Julie is nerdy in personality and appearance, but you think her glasses are sexy. You’re not sure if she doesn’t have a boyfriend because she’s overlooked or because she’s aloof, a worry that’s part of the head games you play with yourself when your brain tries to crunch the data and spit out an answer to the question of whether or not she’s out of your league.

Throughout the day, everything has been subtly different. In your classes, you’re learning about topics that weren’t being covered, from your perspective, the day before. You guess you can’t tweak aspects of human behavior and expect there not to be a ripple effect. Besides, the changes have all been innocuous. That is, until your calculus teacher asks you all if you’ve been studying for the quiz tomorrow. You didn’t know about this quiz.

“Julie,” you say after class. “Can you help me? It completely slipped my mind to study for this quiz.”

To your surprise, she actually seems interested.

“Sure, Michael. Can we do it at your house? My dad doesn’t like it when I bring boys over.”

You have never heard of Julie’s dad being so protective, but you’re not about to refuse this opportunity to be closer with her.

You walk her to your house after school, while she explains what material the class has been covering over the past week.

“Geez, Michael, did a coconut fall on your head?” Julie asks.

Her and her cheesy jokes. Her cuteness makes them funny, though.

“My sister will be home, soon,” you say as you two sit on your bed. “My parents aren’t due back until 5.”

“Good, that will allow us to get the fucking out of the way,” Julie says.

If you were drinking something you would do a spit-take. You’re certainly sexually attracted to her, but your hopes of romancing her are a bit loftier than that.

“You do know that’s my price for my tutoring services, right?” Julie says.

She begins unbuttoning your shirt. You had worn this one because you wanted to look sharp in front of Julie.

“If you’re worried about having time for studying, don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll be much more focused after we take my edge off. You have no idea how worked up I get being this close to you.”

She frees the last button and works you out of your shirt. Your muscles are not that impressive, but she doesn’t seem to care all that much. Your bare skin against hers is what’s desired. You boldly cup her breasts and lean in for a kiss. You now know what is meant when a girl is described as melting into a kiss. It’s like she’s chocolate in your mouth or a ragdoll kitten in your arms. She barely has the strength to take off her shirt. When she does you see that she’s not wearing a bra over her petite breasts.

When you put hands to boobs again, this time with no shirt to mediate between you, she nearly orgasms. You kiss her neck and nibble her earlobe, trying everything that the girly magazines you read online say a good lover does. Whether it’s working because of your skill or because she’s more sensitive is something you can’t let yourself worry about right this moment. This is the world you occupy now; might as well enjoy it.

“I love your nipples,” you say. “How would you like them in my mouth?”

“I would like that. Ohhh! Michael, thank you!”

Jesus. She’s already thanking you and you haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.

You oscillate between rubbing her nipples between your lips and swabbing them with your tongue. She seems to prefer the slightly rougher texture of the former if her thrusting her small breasts towards your face when you do it is any indication. While your mouth works on one breast, your hand takes care of the other.

“What do you like during sex?” you say. “What are your kinks?”

“I want you—oh!—I want you to talk dirty to me. Call me names.”

That hardly qualifies as a kink in your book, but it’s still pretty hot.

You transfer a hand to her short shorts and find that the denim crotch is damp. The denim is softer and thinner than a man’s jeans, but still, she must be wet as the ocean if her juices are bleeding through this far.

“I can’t believe how fucking wet you are, Julie. So goddamn slutty.”

She moans her appreciation and attempts to get her pants off. With you teasing her nipples, she has almost no strength or motor control, so you decide to take pity on her and push her jeans off.

You pull her into your lap. She’s so petite compared to you that pleasuring her is like playing a saxophone, where her crotch is the keys and her nipples are the mouthpiece. The music she produces is her moans and the shuddering of her muscles as you rub her over her panties, which are drenched with a combination of sweat and her love juices.

You tell her how adorable her panties are. Even though they’re plain, their snug fit makes them look so endearing and innocent on her. That coupled with the thinness of the fabric makes you think you can get away with something.

There’s the sound of tearing fabric and you toss her panties onto the floor as if they’re wrapping on a package you’re eager to open. You’re worried that you may have gone too far, but the roughness causes her to erupt into orgasm. Her back arches like her spine is trying to fold itself in half. The titflesh surrounding the nipple in your mouth presses hard against your face, and her hand spasmodically paws at your neck as if looking for something but doesn’t know what.

“Oh, FUCK!” she says. “Ohmygod I’M CUMMING!”

That much is obvious. You don’t want to move onto anything new while she’s having her moment of ecstasy, so you stay with what works and caress her labia while you kiss her nipples.

When she comes down, you shift her off your lap and drop your pants and underwear. You’re fully erect. While she could tell how hung you are from sitting on your lap a moment ago, seeing is a whole different level of understanding and her mouth drops open in shock.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she says in a small voice.

“I thought you wanted to have sex?”

“You pay me by using your hands and your mouth. I don’t want to get pregnant.”

You curse yourself. Your rule concerning guys not being able to cum is a new rule, which means she’s not in the habit of jumping dudes for the sake of penetrative sex unless she wants to get pregnant, which she doesn’t. What she wants is head, and because she’s so sensitive down there (and everywhere) it’s as easy to give her oral as it is to give a guy a blowjob, except that for her the pleasure that cunnilingus entails is deeper. That’s why she was so eager for you to give it to her; it doesn’t take someone skilled at oral to make her cum, only a tongue on her clit.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Julie,” you say, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. “Do you still want me to eat you out?”

“Then again,” she says. “They say that guys can stop themselves from cumming now. And that cock . . . it would fill me up so tight. If I’m going to lose my virginity it should be to a monster like that.”

That last sentence instantly gets you ten times as hard.

“Do you want to take moment to think about it?” you ask in a strained voice.

She bites her lip.

“I’m done thinking. Fill me up with your trouser snake.”

You climb on top of her and begin gently coaxing said trouser snake into its burrow.

“Ohhhhhhh. Please go slow, Michael. I don’t know how you’re going to fit it all inside me.”

That simultaneously floods you compassion so that you want to be gentle and multiplies your lust so that you want to do the opposite and shove it balls deep inside her. Seeing as how you don’t want to scar her during her first time, the former wins out.

“Michael!”

“What is it?” you joke.

You’re only a few thrusts in and she’s obviously way more into this than you, so you can’t but fuck with her a little bit as she loses whatever scraps of composure she had left.

“Michael!!”

“Julie!”

You quickly discover the limit that you can push into her vagina without making her uncomfortable and refrain from crossing it. The means that a decent portion of your glorious sausage is not getting any pussy, and because of how thick you are relative to her tightness, you have to thrust slowly, but you don’t care all that much because it’s been established that you’re not cumming from this anyway.

“Michael.”

This comes out as a whisper as if the impending orgasm is crushing her lungs. Her facial expression is as comical as her cheesy jokes, and like her jokes and all other things Julie you think it’s breathtakingly adorable.

You don’t stop, and she doesn’t stop cumming. You’re not sure if it’s one last orgasm or multiple, but when she slows down, so do you.

“I’ll keep going until you tell me to stop,” you say, punctuating your sentence with a nibble on her ear.

“Can we just lay here?” she says after a moment. “I just want to rest with you filling me up and your weight on me like a heavy blanket.”

You stay like that for a few minutes before pulling out. Her phone chooses this moment to buzz as if it had been waiting for the two of you to stop fucking.

By the second buzz, you both know she’s getting a phone call. With one long arm you pick up her discarded shorts off the floor. They’re so tiny that they feel like a rag dangling from your fingers. You give them to her so that she can pull her panicking phone out of the pocket.