5 comments/ 34876 views/ 2 favorites Curly By: ellabee A big shout-out to Paul and the folks at the SDC for their invaluable help and dedication! * "Think of all the boys!" With one line, my new roommate at my new college in my new state convinced me to attend a fraternity party on the first night of orientation. I was eighteen and shy, nervous at the prospect of "getting myself out there." "Don't be silly," said my roommate Priya, giving my carefully chosen outfit a once-over. "It'll be fun." I looked into the mirror one last time, attacking the last pieces of my curly chestnut locks with my straightener. Lipgloss, mascara, and foundation all passed the test. I was as confident as I would ever be. "Shall we?" I asked with an uneasy smile. ~~~ The smoke stung my eyes, and I blinked, trying to make out the figures in the dark room. The house was literally vibrating from the thump of the hip-hop beats pumped from the stereos. The dance floor, what I suspected the builders had hoped to be a living room, was crowded with scantily clad bodies gyrating en masse. So this was college, I mused. Priya dragged me over to a group of people she had met at registration, and they began chatting. One of them handed me a red plastic party cup, full of beer. I eyed it, and him. "Don't worry," he said, smiling. That was when I noticed his smile. His teeth were the whitest things I had ever seen. They gleamed from under his perfectly full lips, radiant against his lightly tanned skin. Even through the dark haze of the house, I surmised he had spent the entire summer on the beach. His eyes smiled with his mouth. They were dark, like a brown or hazel, but they sparkled, picking up the little light available in the room and reflecting it, almost magically. His dark hair was curly, not long, but not short. It flopped against his brow and looked disheveled, as if he had just awoken from a nap. I wondered if he always looked so heavenly when he rolled out of bed. I realized my mouth had fallen open a little and I was openly staring -- gawking -- at the beautiful person before me. I quickly closed my mouth and shook my head. "Thanks for the beer," I said, motioning my glass upwards. I swigged a few sips to hide my embarrassment. He laughed, an easy laugh, which did not mock, but seemed to find me cute. "I'm Max," he stated. "Charlotte," I sputtered into my beer. My God, this tastes like piss... "Let's dance..." Max did not wait for my answer. A blessing, I thought, as I would have most likely muttered something incoherent and vague, still too taken by his magazine-gorgeous good looks. He grabbed my arm, but not roughly. I took a deep breath as I felt his warm hand on my bare arm. He dragged me into the mass of bodies and put his arms around my waist. "I can't..." I said, looking at him, terrified by the prospect of shaking my ass to the incoherent beats blasting from the stereo. "Yes, you can," he stated, flashing me another of his full grins. "Everybody can dance." I swigged down another huge gulp of cheap beer and swallowed hard. I inched closer to Max, breathing in deeply, and settled my hips under his. We swayed slowly, awkwardly, amongst the mass of our new peers. Max pulled me closer and took control of our dance. We started grinding our bodies against one another as the filthy lyrics blared from the system. I lost focus of the others around me. I could no longer hear other voices or my roommate and her new friends cheering us on from the bar. It was just Max and I, legs entwined, arms linked tightly. We danced for what felt like hours, though it was probably only two or three songs of gangsta rap. I looked up into his eyes. They were twinkling again. Where is this light coming from? His face leaned closer to mine. He's kissing me. Ohmigod he's going to kiss me. Does my breath smell alright? He's too cute to kiss me! Ohmigod... His lips, mere millimeters from mine, were bearing closer, coming for me. I instinctively pulled my head back, too nervous to give in to the moment. He did not seem to notice... "COPS!!!!!!!!!" The screams roared over the music. Instantly, all the lights flickered on and the stereos shuddered silent. Max jerked his head up and assessed the situation. I cursed myself for moving backwards. You idiot! I chastised my shyness. "Come with me!" Max somehow detangled our limbs and dragged me to a door. The crush of underage bodies pressed against me and I was painfully aware of the number of people inside of the fraternity house. "Drop your beer!" Max cried, looking at my bright red cup. "It's empty," I mumbled, chucking it to the floor. It was crushed by a stampede of stilettos and Nike tennis shoes. Max whisked me through the house and shoved me through the doorframe first. I clomped down the stairs, wishing I had worn some more practical shoes. Priya had already exited the frat. "Charlotte!" she cried, and grabbed my hand. She dragged me off the lawn, making a beeline for our dormitory. I looked around wildly for Max once we reached the street. He had disappeared into the throng of underage freshman on the can-strewn lawn of the fraternity house... ~~~ I did not see Max during the remainder of the orientation. He had intrigued me at the fraternity party, more than a few stolen moments should have. We had not even kissed, for chrissakes, and yet... On the first day of classes, I trudged into my First Year Seminar, a required small group course that "explored different themes of critical thinking," according to the college's website. I had chosen to "explore" the concept of genius -- art, music, poetry, science, and the like. I found a seat furthest away from the instructor at a long seminar table and sized up my peers. They were far from the genius I hoped to study this semester. A few were obviously only at college for the athletic scholarship alone. Others were definitely cheerleaders or sorority blondes already mooning over the D1 football "student" athletes. Two kids had glasses held together by tape. I rolled my eyes. So much for inquisitiveness and group discussion. The professor was busying herself with the syllabus and the TA, so class was starting late. I had settled into my uncomfortable lecture chair, bracing myself for a very long semester. I heard the door open right as the professor was about to begin class. I did not pay any attention. Another geeky or intellectually challenged student did not interest me. "Is this seat taken?" I responded with a noncommittal "nhmph." The newcomer grazed my arm as he eased himself into the seat to my left. The nerves on my forearm tingled, and I looked to see who had come in so late. Max. He flashed me another of his easy grins, signaling he recognized me. "Hey Charlotte," he whispered as the professor started her introductions. *clapclapclap* "Oookay! Welcome to your First Year Seminar!" The professor's squeal sounded rehearsed and unsure. She was a newbie just like the rest of us. Super. "Let's just go around the roooooooooooom and tell each other who we are..." she purred. The jocks and cheerleaders rolled their eyes. "We're going to be spending lots of time together soooooooooooooooo we might as well just get to know each other..." My classmates mumbled their names one by one into their Styrofoam coffee cups and already chewed-up pencaps. They each said their name, hometown, future major, and "one adjective to describe you!" I was surprised most knew what an adjective was. "I'm Max," said Max next to me. "I'm from Los Angeles, thinkin' 'bout majoring in art..." Explains the tan and the self-confidence. I gazed up at him and tried to erase the pure rapture I was feeling on the inside from my face. "One adjective I would use to describe myself...hmm, how about...inspired!" He could inspire me any day. Preferably in my loft while Priya was in chem lab. In any position. "Next?" My professor snapped me out of my reverie. "I'm Charlotte," I half-whispered. "I can't hear you!" chimed my bubbly professor. "I'm Charlotte!" I mustered some courage to speak louder. Max leaned against his elbow, perched to take a closer look at me. I wished I had brushed my hair. "I'm from Iowa...you've never heard of the town, and I'd like to major in political science." I could see Max's grin spreading honey-slow on his gorgeous face. "Your adjective, Charlotte?" "Idealistic." "Good. Next!" piped my professor. I did not hear the remainder of the introductions. Max started writing me notes on a scrap piece of notebook paper. What a bunch of losers, he scrawled in a nearly illegible script. Max was writing me notes in class, deeming me "cool" enough to be more approachable than the losers. I picked up my pen and scribbled back a reply. Do you think we'll be doing any real discussing this semester? With these guys? Max lifted his pen and gestured around the room. Not a chance. I froze, unsure of how to respond. I have always been socially awkward, but around a Sex God like Max, I was rendered speechless. He sensed my awkwardness and resumed our written conversation. So you're an idealist, eh? Yes. I am such a wit. What does that mean? I want to change the world. Through political science? Can you think of a better way? Access to the world's leaders, a whole constituency to help inspire me, ability to make laws... Okay. Cool. Why art? I want to change the world. Through art? I smirked at him. I want to inspire and motivate. I want to think and have people think along with me. He began to doodle in his notebook. I watched intently as he sketched the outline of a face. He drew straight hair, messy and shoulder-length, paying special attention to stray curly bits that had escaped the straightener. He scratched out two almondish eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a smile that seemed timid. Max continued to fill in the sketch, taking up nearly the entirety of his notebook page. I blushed and knew my entire face was beet red, up to the very part on my scalp. I had never had anybody look at me so inquisitively, especially somebody I barely knew. What do you think? He wrote on the side of the drawing. I think you're very talented. You're just saying that because it's you. No! I buried my head in my hands. Max chuckled and brushed my exposed forearm. Whatever. He drew a smiley face next to his words so I knew he was joking, just to see me turn redder. "Sooooooooooooooooo I'll see you all Wednesday, then," said my professor, and my classmates packed their notebooks and day planners into their stylish messenger bags. "Read chapters one, two, and three of the Smith text, and write a summary and discussion points to bring to class!" Collective groan. Max sprang from his seat. I could not believe the hour had flown by so quickly. Part of me did not want it to end because I enjoyed sitting next to him so much. "See you next time," he said with a wink. And then he strode out of the room before I could close my notebook. ~~~ "Charlotte!" Priya hurried across the campus green towards me. Our first First Year Seminars had just let out, and she looked ready to dish. "How was class?" I asked as we strolled down the grassy knoll of our academic quad. "Lame!" she threw her head back dramatically. "And I have class all day. No time for lunch! No time for boy gossip! No time for anything, anything at all." She sighed, weighed down by the burdens of her responsibilities. "When will I see you again?" Out of the room all day? My heart skipped a beat. "Never!" She giggled, realizing the extent of her dramatics. "I'm off to Chemistry, then I'm going to grab a bite to eat, hit up my chemistry lab right after, then physics, a meeting with my academic advisor, group project meeting, yoga, dinner... I should be back around six or so." The room to myself! All day long! I glanced at my watch. Eleven a.m. I felt a twinge of electricity emanating from my clit. The "stress" of my first college course and the intense sexual tension between Max and I needed to be released. I airkissed my roommate goodbye and headed back to my dorm. I nearly ran up the steps of the ancient stone building, ecstatic for some much-needed solo time. I closed my heavy door behind me and engaged the deadbolt as I breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. Alone. Not how I expected my first collegiate sexual experience to unfold. I unconsciously brushed the spot on my arm he had touched as he eased himself into the chair next to me. My hairs stood on end as I remembered staring up into his eyes. I moved swiftly towards my dresser and rummaged around my underwear drawer. My hand grazed a piece of cool, ribbed plastic. I pulled out my prize. At seven inches long and a few inches thick, my dildo was the perfect sex toy. The packaging proclaimed it was "ribbed for her pleasure!" The ridges alternated between thick and thin bands, smoothing out before the tapered end that curved ever so slightly. The curve culminated in a rotating bulb, like an electric toothbrush, that perfectly kissed and tickled my G-spot. I stroked the length of the pearlescent purple shaft. Images of Max's smile and his delightfully radiant eyes flashed through my mind. I threw the dildo onto my bed and stripped. I threw my tight black polo I always left unbuttoned (maximizes casual flashes of cleavage) onto the floor and shimmied out of my jeans. I was unhinging my front-clasp bra when I caught my reflection in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. Sex. I looked like a porn star. I had not had the time to brush my hair in the morning, and my chestnut locks were starting to curl in the humidity. I straightened my hair every day, but the humidity and the lack of attention was bringing my hair to its natural wild state. It fell to my shoulders, curling in every direction at the ends. It was unkempt, like I had rolled in bed with a lover minutes before. Ever since I met Max, I had felt overtly sexual. I had subconsciously worn my sexiest underwear this morning. My red lace bra made my heartbeat quicken. I traced my fingers down the scalloped lace of the cups. It was see through, a mesh and lace combination, that pushed and accentuated my breasts to their fullest potential. My full breasts looked like pale round melons against the intense red of the fabric. My pink nipples were straining against the fire-red fabric, already alert and demanding attention. My eyes drifted down to my midsection. I had chosen matching underwear, a bright red, mesh and lace thong. The lace pattern was scalloped into a flower pattern, which nestled its way between the folds of my slit. I turned around, my head still facing the mirror. The thong's lace snaked around my hips and joined right above my rear, forming a single lace flower. The stem was tucked between my cheeks, a slim piece of bright red fabric. I unclasped my bra, releasing my sensitive breasts. I dove onto my bed, tweaking my nipples. I moaned aloud. I felt like all of my body's nerve ends were alert, responding to the slightest touch with sheer pleasure. I pictured Max's smile, his gorgeous lips. I sighed, a little moan escaping my lips as I dreamt of his. I fantasized about the night at the fraternity house. Max leaned in to kiss me, and I responded ravenously, taking him with my mouth and tongue. We kissed passionately, oblivious to the couples dancing around us. As I slid my fingers sensuously around my nipples, tugging and teasing them into a delightfully torturous state of pleasure, Max asked me in my fantasies to go somewhere private. We disappeared into my bedroom, and I led Max into my bed. He tore off my clothes, and then his shirt. I imagined his chest -- toned, tan, beautifully LA-ish. His chest was bare, without a trace of hair, and defined without being overly chiseled. He took my breast into his mouth, twirling my nipple with his tongue. Fantasizing about Max was having a strong effect on my body. I was electric, my nipples swollen and hard, and twice their normal length. I had not yet touched my clit, but already I felt I was close to orgasm. I grabbed my dildo, sliding it between my swollen lips. I rubbed it up and down my clit, slathering the shaft with my juices. I was slick with my own lubrication. I shut my eyes, and Max and I stripped in my fantasy. He had the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. Its head mushroomed beautifully at the end of his average sized, but thick, shaft. It was not impressive in my mind -- Max was, of course, only an average sized guy -- but I was confident he would manipulate it in mind-blowing, unfathomable ways. In my dreams, Max slid his shaft into my tight hole. I gasped aloud as I flicked my dildo's vibrator to life, shoving it deep inside my snatch. The vibrations shook the entirety of the shaft, and each rotation of the dildo's tiny motor seemed to make my pussy roar with delight. In addition to the overall vibrations, the curved tip and ball rotated slowly, pulsating against my G-spot. I was instantly near orgasm. I pumped the dildo in and out of my snatch, relishing in the sensation of the ribbing and vibrations against my vaginal walls. I imagined it was Max pumping in and out of me. He knelt near my bottom, holding my ankles firmly against his hips. He thrust in and out of my snatch. I rammed my vibrator in and out, clenching my vagina against the ribbed plastic. I opened my eyes and could almost see Max fucking me, his head thrown back in excitement. He reached out, and I put my other hand back onto my tortured breasts, almost screaming from intense desire. I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I bucked and howled against my bed. I slid my hand down my body away from my breast. My clit was burning. I purposely neglected to touch it until I was begging myself to cum. Without ceasing the relentless pounding from my vibrator, I lightly grazed the bud of my clit with the tip of my index finger. I could not resist. As I pictured Max moaning my sexual prowess as he flooded my pussy with his cum, I stroked my bud with small, fast, hard circles. The sensations overwhelmed my body, and I was ripped into a screaming orgasm. My whole body was electric. I bucked wildly against my bed, losing control of my muscle function as my nerve endings jumped to attention. Waves of heat crashed against my frame, overwhelming my senses. "Yes!" I cried, unable to muffle my voice any longer. "Oh Max, Max!" His name bounced off my lips and reverberated through the room. I was certain the entire hall could hear my cries, and yet I did not care what they would think or say later. I embraced the pleasure that Max's image had given me. As the pulsations of my orgasm subsided, I slumped against the bed, withering from the heat. I switched off my vibrator and slid it out of my snatch. It made a slight *pop* as it exited, slick from the juices of my hole. I lazily looked at the dildo, spinning it in the early afternoon sunlight streaming through my window. I laughed, thinking of Max, what it would be like to seduce him into my bedroom. I wanted to run my fingers through his curly hair. I wanted to see his smile as we lay together in my too-small twin bed. I wanted to hold his beautifully tanned body and hear stories of LA. I wanted...all of Max. ~~~ Freshman year passed relatively uneventfully. I spoke to Max every day, and we easily became friends. But as our friendship developed, I noticed Max's affections were not unique to me. I soon realized his easy charm and casual sexiness were merely part of his personality. When I went to campus parties with my roommate, I embraced him with a hug and quick kiss on the lips, then watched, saddened, as he would do the same to each girl he encountered. Curly Red Hair My wife is a brunette. We’ve been married sixteen months on the seventh. It’s just amazing how time has flown by. Someone once said to me that you’re not truly married until your wife yells at you. Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I haven’t experienced the real thing yet. That’s just the kind of relationship we have – perfect. We never fight and we absolutely love to be with each other. We’re both extremely religious and come from rather conservative backgrounds. I won’t specify which religion, but I will say that we were both virgins on our wedding day. In fact, we wore the “virgin” title a couple days into the honeymoon. I’m guessing that you probably want a detailed description at this point, and I sure wish that I could throw a picture or two in here. I mean, I can describe things, but sometimes words just don’t cut it. I know that’s the case where my wife is concerned. Have you ever met a woman, or a man for that matter, who had no idea as to how perfectly model-like they were? That would describe my “Jewel”. Her real name is Julia, Julia Katherine. But, I like the way that Jewel flows off the tongue. Anyway, Jewel has never really known why the guys stare at her. In fact, if it weren’t for me pointing it out, she’d never have been clued in to the idea that she’s stunning. She’s rather petite at 5’2”, but proportioned to perfection, as though an artist had sketched her into existence. Her breasts aren’t that big if you go by the bra size, but because of her small frame, they definitely grab your attention. Do you like Italians? Well, Jewel isn’t Italian, but you’d never know. In fact, her genes are divided evenly between Syrian and Caucasian. The result is olive colored skin, dark brunette hair, and the deepest blue eyes imaginable. I’m telling you that writing it out just doesn’t come close to the mark, but I hope that you at least have an idea. As for myself, I have short blond hair, blue-green eyes, and an athletic build. But hey, I’m not the focus of this story. You go ahead and imagine what you want. The story begins in the month of May. A time of year that’s approaching unbearable here in Phoenix, Arizona. My wife and I have often asked ourselves, “Why do we live here?” The answer, of course, is “free rent”. My parents recently pursued their dream of better weather and beautiful trees by moving to Washington. They are in the process of selling their six-bedroom, two-bath, 3,000 square-foot monster. In the meantime, they live in Washington, and we get out of the way of the real estate agent and her prospective buyers. The house is big, but we don’t mind, as the free rent allows us to save for our own home. We’ve recently had another bit of good fortune that has sweetened the deal of house sitting for my parents. On the other side of our driveway is a rather spacious addition. It used to be a shop for all of my father’s power tools, as he had his own cabinetry business. But, after retirement it was converted into an apartment, complete with a bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and small sitting room. It’s really quite cozy, and I guess my aunt was particularly impressed with its potential, considering the call that I received from my mother. “Yes, you heard me right. Stacy is going to be living with you two for the rest of the summer. I’ve made arrangements with her mother that she can rent the apartment for $250 a month. You’ll get half of that as you’ll be giving up some of your privacy.” Well, that was a bit of a surprise. My wife and I were very much getting used to the idea of wandering around the house nude, and basically doing just about anything we wanted, wherever we wanted. Stacy is a younger cousin that I hadn’t seen for over four years. We used to be really close when we were younger, but I had gone out of the country for school, and then she had moved away to be with her father. She was going to be starting college in the fall and wanted to experience life on her own before moving to New York. Her mother, my aunt Loraine, thought it was a wonderful and “safe” idea to have her live next to us. I guess we weren’t too disappointed by the change in plans. I mean, we were trying to save as much money as we could, and she was a definite bonus in that respect. My wife was at work when Stacy showed up that Saturday morning. Oh, my wife is a manager for a photography studio in WalMart. That’s just a little side note in case you were wondering. Anyway, not having seen Stacy in so many years, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. I guess I was afraid that her personality would have changed so much that we wouldn’t “click” like before. When I opened our back door after hearing her knock, the “personality” issue was the least of my concerns. Once again, I’m really wishing that I could insert a picture of what I saw. If you could combine the best features of the twenty most beautiful women in the world, what would the result be? You guessed it! I literally had no control over my lower jaw. I always thought that problem was just something you see in the cartoons, but no. I had to consciously tell my mouth to close, and then proceed to tell my eyes to go back to their normal, relaxed position. After stuttering a few incoherent words of greeting, I rushed her into the house and quickly closed the door to lock the heat out. “Stacy! You are Stacy, aren’t you? I mean, you look totally different. You’re just so tall and beautiful. I mean, not that you weren’t always beautiful, but you’ve definitely grown.” I shut up at that point, as I could feel the red starting to take over my upper cheeks. Stacy just smiled and said, “Oh Jasie, I’ve missed you so much,” as she wrapped her arms around me, pressing her extremely noticeable breasts into my chest. I thought I was blushing before, but this little erotic hug had me going pretty bad. I just couldn’t get over how she was very much a woman now and not the little girl I remembered. And yet, she still called me “Jasie”. It was the nickname she’d given me, and she was the only person that ever used it. I guess she liked how it rhymed so perfectly with her name. Well, we spent the next fifteen minutes or so talking about everything that was going on and then I helped her with her luggage. “Jewel and I had to get creative in here with the curtains. There wasn’t anything at all and we didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with us staring through the window at you.” The truth was that we didn’t want to have her staring at us all of the time, but it sounded better the other way. “Oh, I don’t mind if you stare at me,” replied Stacy in a slightly suggestive way. We both laughed it off, but I couldn’t laugh enough to get rid of the images that flooded through my mind. I had to get out of there at that point and so I made some excuse of errands to run. We said our good byes, and then promised to get together for dinner so that she and my wife could meet. If I could have smacked myself in the head without looking like a complete nut, then I would have done it. I just couldn’t believe how sexual she was, and how I could ever think such things about my sweet little innocent cousin. What in the world was the matter with me? Wow, but she was hot. She had full, deep red, curly hair. She was a dancer and so everything about her was, well, tight. She wasn’t more then 5’8”, but because of her long and slender legs, she looked to be close to six feet. And that coppery skin! Here I was doing it again. I had to get control and stop thinking about my cousin in that way. It wasn’t bad enough that I was a happily married man. No, I had to go and get some sick fixation about my cousin. And so I drove around town for an hour, thinking about my eighty-year-old grandmother in a bikini. Let me tell you, it worked well. About a week went by of me catching glimpses of Stacy through her window, having casual conversations, and a couple of dinner engagements. My wife just loves her. They’re close enough in age and interests that it’s like having two sisters gang up on you. Only, I’ve never caught myself drooling over my wife’s sisters. I don’t know how many movies I’ve seen with the miniature devil and angel riding a person’s shoulder, whispering in their ears. I always thought of it as a cute thing, but nowhere near reality. Ever since Stacy moved into that little apartment across our driveway, though, I can honestly say that I’m a firm believer in those two little guys. I have to say that the devil character is a whole lot more interesting to listen to. But, my religious background keeps interrupting my thoughts, especially when I consider that my cousin belongs to the very same church. What am I thinking! It’s not as though she would have anything to do with a married guy who just happens to be her cousin. We slipped up, my wife and I. It happened one Thursday evening after Jewel had gotten home from a hard-days work. She’d just gone through her “cycle” and so it had been a few days since we’d had sex. You have to understand that Jewel wants it about two or three times a day. I can imagine that most men would just kill for that sort of thing, but for some sick reason my body doesn’t act like it should. Anyway, she couldn’t exactly wait for us to get to the bedroom, and so she started losing pieces of clothing from the second her foot crossed the threshold of our back door. She was completely nude and had my pants to my ankles at about the kitchen counter. A few steps more and she had her mouth around my cock, her fist pounding up and down on its base. You can imagine my feelings at this point, looking down at those luscious lips encircling me, Jewel’s tits swaying progressively faster the more aggressive she became. Normally I can handle the attention for quite a while, but there was something unexplainably intense about this whole experience. I warned her that she had to let up if she wanted anything more from me that evening, but my words seemed to inspire her all the more. She wrapped her hands around my backside and squeezed tightly as she pushed my cock down her throat. I couldn’t believe what was happening, as my wife had never tried any such thing before. I didn’t even know it was possible. She choked a little, but fearlessly pounded her face into my crotch. Well, that was definitely all I could take and I warned her that I was about to cum. “I want you to cum harder then you’ve ever cum before, and I want it all over my body,” she said as she furiously worked my cock with both of her hands. Now, I have no idea where she learned that kind of talk, but who was I to argue. It was in that instant that a jet of sperm shot through the air and landed on her forehead. She then directed the flow to her chin, breasts, and lips, where she proceeded to delicately clean my fast-shrinking little soldier. My body relaxed and I leaned my head back, soaking in the intensity of it all. She continued to masturbate me gently and I brought my head forward to get a better look. It was then that I thought about Stacy. Holy Shit! The window curtains were open to the world. I dropped to the ground as fast as I could, but not before I saw a slight movement of red curls in the window across the way. Jewel and I looked into each other’s eyes as she said questioningly, “I wonder if she was watching”. This is the end of PART ONE to the “Curly Red Hair” story. If you’re interested in learning what happened next, or maybe even getting some pictures of my wife and cousin, send me a request. I’ll get back to you as soon as I check my mail, which is usually pretty often. Curly ~~~ Max's idea of dancing was reggae night at the local nightclub. I, being the arrhythmic white girl I am, was terrified at the prospect of shaking my behind to unfamiliar music. There goes my perfect evening. Prospects of fucking Max flew out the window as I devised a new plan, one that would involve preserving as much dignity as possible. I almost bolted as Max led me into the nightclub. The place was packed with people from campus, shaking their butts expertly to the Caribbean overtones blaring from the speakers. A dreadlocked man sung out beats from the makeshift stage, and his dreadlocked friends accompanied him on bongos and acoustic guitars. This was definitely not my scene. Max grabbed my arm, sensing I was uncomfortable, and led me to the dance floor. He placed his hands firmly on my hips and guided me into a sultry, slow dance. I softened, letting a few of my (many) inhibitions melt away in his arms. I knew he was an asshole and would be a terrible boyfriend. But I could not help but love Max. He was deep, talented, and special. He had a way of seeing people through the false fronts they put up as protection. His eyes could penetrate the toughest armor. I hoped they were not strong enough to penetrate mine because I could not risk Max falling in love with me. I was not strong enough for that. As we slowly danced, I refused to make eye contact with him. His eyes, then, settled for my cleavage, and he treated me as he treated every single one of his dates: like a piece of ass. It made me feel dirty. I loved it. He grabbed me all over, massaging my ass, my hips, my back, and my tits with his calloused hands. I looked up at him, finally, desire and lust in my eyes. He noticed. Max grabbed my hair with one of his hands. My curly locks were free of mousse tonight. I let them air dry after my shower, and they were soft and full. I could feel his hands tighten around my hair, tangling in the knots. "Your hair..." he leaned close and gasped in my ear. His body pressed closer to me, and I could feel the hint of an erection through his jeans. "I thought you said you couldn't have me," I said in return. His body felt so good against mine, but I had to hold on to my dignity, to myself. "I can't," he breathed into my curly locks. "Why not?" "Because I can't handle you." "Then please stop touching my hair." "I can't do that, either." With that, Max forced my head upwards and kissed me passionately. He pressed his slightly chapped lips against mine. A wave of heat rushed over my body. I had dreamed, fantasized, of the moment Max would kiss me like this. I pressed my lips harder against his, desperate to consume every ounce of his passion. He tickled my lips with his tongue, and I greedily opened my mouth to accept him. Max was the best kisser I had ever encountered. He expertly massaged my tongue, providing the crucial balance of pressure and softness. He moved his hand from my ass and placed it against my face, and his other hand, still tangled in my hair, pushed my face closer to his. I flung my arms around his neck and hoisted myself onto my tiptoes. We embraced for what felt like hours, kissing each other deeply. Max broke away first. I looked at him, lust in my eyes, pleading to kiss again. "Let's go back to my place," he said, and dragged me out of the club. ~~~ Max flung me onto his queen-sized bed. I fell against the multitude of pillows. Silk sheets, I noted, very playboy of him. I hoisted myself into a sitting position against his pillows and took off my flirty top. Max knelt on the edge of the bed, eyes glazed over from desire. He watched, mouth agape, as I teased him with my undressing. I had chosen my sexiest strapless bra. It was powder blue lace, front clasp, and it hoisted my breasts to their fullest, loftiest position possible. I decided to give Max a show, hoping to keep him enticed. I placed my index finger against my tongue, flirtily licking just the tip, just enough to moisten it. I then slid my finger over the lace of my bra, teasing Max and myself. My nipples strained at the bra as the lightest graze of my finger brought them to attention. I tweaked and twisted my nipples through the fabric, using the rough lace to add tension and texture to my foreplay. Max hastily unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the ground. He crawled towards me on the bed. "Wait," I said, holding out my other hand to stop him. He dutifully obeyed, and loosened his belt. I watched him unzip his jeans, my cue to tease him further. As he tugged his pants off his legs, I played with the button of my jeans. Slowly, slowly, I undid the zipper, and tantalizingly shimmied out of my pants. I was stripped down to my underwear. I recalled the fantasy I had of Max a year prior, and laughed to myself. It was playing out almost as I had imagined. I was wearing the matching powder-blue thong to my bra, another see-through lace number. My right hand not leaving my breast, I inched my left down underneath the fabric of my underwear. Max's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he noticed I was completely shorn around my pubic area, smoothly waxed only the day prior. My finger snuck down the folds of my slit, and I slid the tip around the entrance to my hole. My heart skipped a beat -- I was saturated down below. I was certain Max could see how wet I was -- the lace of my thong was soaked with juice. I dampened my finger and touched my clit gently. Max tore off his boxers and flung himself on top of me. He grabbed my hands, relieving them of their self-stimulation. We kissed deeply. His tongue took me, tried to devour the entirety of my passion. Max broke off the kiss roughly and placed gentle kisses down my neck. His left hand caressed my body, while his right grabbed my hands and held them firmly above my head. Max made it clear without speaking that he had seen enough of my foreplay -- it was his turn to make love to me. His left hand tugged at the clasp of my bra, and he freed my breasts from their tight hold. My breasts sprung out of the fabric, bouncing and full. Max twisted my right nipple with his hand, pinching it. I moaned aloud, already filled with desire. I had a year's worth of sexual tension built up from Max's seductiveness -- I was ready to fuck. Max continued his rough nipple play while continuing to coat my body with soft kisses. He wandered over to my other breast. He exhaled, and my breast quivered with anticipation. He smiled and rubbed his nose on the bud of my nipple. "How badly do you want me, Charlotte?" he asked, his voice sensual and teasing. "Max," I whispered, almost unable to form words. "Ask for it, Char," he groaned. "I can't do that," I mumbled. What is he doing to me? "Come on, Curly, tell me what you want." Curly? Max must really like my hair like this... I made a mental note to sell my ceramic straightener on EBay the next morning. His compliments gave me courage. "Please take it, please lick me..." I whimpered. Max plunged his face onto my breast, tugging at my nipple with his teeth. He slowly nibbled and sucked on the breast, forcing jolts of pleasure through my body, all the while relentlessly tweaking the other nipple. I was ecstatic. I felt his member against my leg. It had grown, larger than I expected. Its soft flesh pressed against my thigh, pulsing as the shaft filled with blood. It was warm, almost hot. I felt a drop of precum leak onto my leg. Max looked up at me as he felt the precum drizzle onto me as well. "Strip out of those panties," he said, and I scurried to oblige him. Max continued his journey down my body, kissing slowly and seductively down my form. He placed feather-like kisses along my belly button and paused as he reached my pubic area. I tensed. No man had ever done what I thought Max was about to do. I was nervous, a million thoughts racing through my head. Seductive Charlotte, brave Charlotte, was gone, and I was timid and shy at the prospect of Max kissing my most private area. Max felt me freeze on his bed. He looked up at me. "What's wrong?" he asked, a look of concern in his eyes. "What are you doing?" "I'm going down on you..." "Please don't!" I cried, scared. "Let's just...let's just fuck." Max rested his head on his elbows, immediately above my slit. Despite my fright, I was being turned on by our heated foreplay, and I cringed at the thought that he could smell me from his advantageous position. I was mortified. "Okay," Max said, choosing his words carefully. "Are you saying 'no' because you really don't want me to, or are you saying 'no' because you're nervous?" "Does it matter!?" I yelped, desperate for an end to the awkwardness. "Of course it matters!" Max crawled towards my face and kissed me softly on the lips. He held my head in his hands, tenderly. I looked at him, questioning his eyes. They were soft, caring, concerned. His hands felt protective, and I felt safer in his arms, safer than I had ever felt with any man. Not that I have much experience. "I've never done that before," I admitted, in a soft, almost whispering tone. Max kissed me again, this time with more passion. "I want to do this...for you," he said, slowly still, as if he was afraid of scaring me off for good. "But what if..." "What if...nothing," Max replied. "You're going to love it. Relax. Just enjoy it." "Are you sure?" Max leaned further into me and began kissing his way down my neck again. I eased my tense form, trying to relax. The truth was I loved the sensation of Max's body on top of mine. He felt strong, secure. I was worried of what he would think of me. I did not think I was strong enough to be loved and forgotten by Max. "If you hate it," Max said between kisses, "just let me know, and we'll stop and forget the whole thing." Max made his way slowly, slowly down my body, and every kiss seemed to release the tension in my muscles. I settled in against the bed and closed my eyes tightly. Just concentrate, just let this... Max's first lick against the folds of my slip felt electric. Nerve endings were stimulated where I did not realize I had nerve endings. I moaned, despite myself, already upset the lick had been so brief. Max tentatively pushed his tongue inside the folds of my slit, burrowing softly and slowly towards the pearl of my clit. He had not yet even licked my clit, and already I was in ecstasy. My mind forgot itself, forgot it was supposed to be self-conscious, forgot I was supposed to be guarded and shy, forgot I was supposed to protect myself against the thrill and fright of being with Max. And then he found my clit. He lapped slowly, using only the tip of his tongue to acclimate me to the sensations. I howled aloud, completely taken by the new feelings Max was giving me. Everything below my belly button was on fire. I had not realized how delicious and naughty and...right...a sexual act could feel. "Oh, Max, that's good..." I murmured, eyes screwed tightly shut, concentrating fully on his actions. Max darted his tongue faster, still using only the tip. He lapped up the juices I knew were flowing down my legs and into his mouth. He seemed willing, almost eager, to pleasure me. Whenever I felt Max could not possibly give me any more pleasure, he changed positions with his tongue, somehow probing deeper, more forcefully. He began lapping at my clit with broad strokes, using the entirety of his tongue. My whole body was tingling, and I grabbed the bed sheets for support. I was moaning loudly, uncontrollably. My head felt detached from the intense waves of pleasure that radiated from my clit, from Max's tongue, and I was consumed by the experience. I could not think of anything besides the constant fwack-fwack-fwack of Max's mouth on my cunt. Max pointed his tongue and began performing figure 8's with the tip. The harsh, almost erratic movements sent me over the top. "I'm gonna cum!" I cried with relief and lust. The orgasm built quickly, overtaking all the sensations of Max and the cool satin sheets and the tongue and the newness, hit me like a wave. I fell deep into the pleasure, rocking my hips against Max's mouth as he relentlessly slurped my juices with excitement. I thrashed against the bed, and my whole body shook. My thighs, my arms, my torso quivered with excitement, and I twitched, grabbing harder onto the bed sheets for support. My toes curled, and I wrapped my legs against Max, pulling him in closer. He slowed his ministrations to my pussy as the orgasm subsided and I collapsed, exhausted, further into the bed. My body went limp, my clit twinging with the final pangs of orgasm. I opened my eyes slowly as I felt Max move his head from under me. He looked at me, grinning widely. "How was that?" he grinned, looking more like a puppy dog and ever, his eyes twinkling with mirth. ~~~ Max cuddled with me for a few moments after my orgasm. It was the most powerful of my life, and I relished the minutes I spent, exhausted and utterly, deliriously happy, in Max's arms. He nuzzled my neck as I drifted into a half-sleep, unable to speak or move. We lay like that for what felt like hours, but was, in actuality, only about fifteen minutes. I awoke from my drifting slumber with the sensation of Max's hand on my upper leg and butt. It was moving. I rolled over, noticing Max slowly stroking his member. I had almost forgotten about his pleasure. I lay down on my back, smiling up at Max. He looked back at me, gently pleading, but waiting for me to recover from my first orgasm. I smiled. "Let's fuck," I stated, excited about the prospect of actually culminating over a year's worth of sexual tension. Max sprang up from his masturbation position and knelt on the bed. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He entered me slowly, as if he was relishing every sensation against his cock. I caught a glimpse of his dick -- the smooth, purplish head gave way to a thick, long shaft. He was uncut, and the folds of his cock made him seem even thicker. The prospect of Max actually entering me was daunting. Max rubbed himself against my slit, coating his own cock in my wetness. He paused at the entrance of my hole. "Ready?" he asked. I managed a grunt in reply and slid closer to him involuntarily. Max slid the head of his dick into my hole. His broad head spread my lips open wide as my vaginal walls stretched to accommodate his girth. I felt pressure as he eased his way into my snatch, a delicious pressure that radiated from inside of me. Max slid in and out slowly, each time forcing more of his cock into me. He began to build momentum, going in more deeply. With one massive thrust, the entirety of his cock had penetrated me. I could feel all of Max's Max inside of me, and I squeezed my muscles around him. He felt so thick, so long; I was whimpering from the pressure of the intense pleasure building within my body. Max grabbed my hips and started riding me hard. He slapped and jiggled his body against mine. His cock was perfectly angled to stimulate my G-spot, and the rough patch sent sparks of pleasure down every nerve end in my body. I grabbed my breasts hard with one hand, twisting my nipple as I moaned. Pleasure arced from every inch of me. I slid my other down to my clit. I snaked my finger around, mimicking the figure 8s Max had just traced with his tongue. My pussy was soaking wet from my first orgasm and Max's salivary lubrication. It was delightfully supple and ready to cum again. I groaned. His head was thrown back in pleasure, clearly concentrating on making himself last as long as he could while enjoying the stimulation. I, however, had other plans. My orgasm built again inside of me, and I let the waves crash over me. I screamed, flying my finger across my clit. Max continued to pound me relentlessly as I egged him to go faster. I cried out incoherently, my pussy clenching down on his cock. My inhibitions faded as my orgasm grew to its full climax. As it reached its crescendo, I lost control. "Yes!" I yelped. Vocal capacities failed me as I uttered a series of nonsense phrases, my mind reeling from the overwhelming pleasure that seemed to burst from the deepest areas of my body. I thrashed on the bed, sliding on the sheets as I lost control. I let the orgasm consume me. Max leaned in to kiss me, rocking his hips to match my motions. He relieved me of my incoherent babble with a deep tongue kiss, and I grabbed his face, unwilling to let him go. It was the sweetest moment, one of promise. I felt deeply connected to that beautiful man. As my orgasm subsided, Max slowed his hip rotation and vacated my vagina. He was standing at full attention. The veins in his dick were visible, and they seemed to strain against his taut skin in desperation. He lay down on his bed, exhausted, but still incredibly horny. I needed a minute to recharge, but that should not have meant he needed to suffer... "Oh, man!" Max called out loudly as I tickled the base of his cock with the tip of my tongue. I teased him by slowly wiggling my way up his shaft, licking ever so slowly. As I reached the pinnacle of his dick, his cock jumped from the stimulation. Max groaned as I delayed his climax. I tantalizingly teased his cock's head, pausing before I consumed him. I noted a drop of precum had leaked out, drizzling from the tip of his dick to the edge of his head. I licked it up enticingly, moaning as I enjoyed my prize. "I can't take this anymore!" Max cried, and I plunged my mouth down his shaft. I sucked the entirety of his dick, slurping and gulping my juices in the process. Max shouted something incoherent, which I perceived as relief. I fucked his cock with my mouth, mimicking the relentless pounding he had given my pussy. Max unconsciously moved his hips up and down, almost imperceptibly, meeting my mouth with the base of his cock. I tried to take the entirety of his length, almost choking as his head tickled the depths of my throat. I scraped my teeth ever so lightly against his dick as I licked my way up the shaft, and Max groaned. "Oh, oh," he cried, softly, almost inaudibly. His moans were erotic. I loved seeing Max vulnerable, clearly enjoying this moment with me. He was fully immersed in the pleasurable sensations that were consuming his body. His eyes were tightly screwed shut, his mouth agape. He had let himself go, and he was so sexy, so much more so than when he was playing the cool, noncommittal womanizer he had tried so hard to be. My pussy clenched involuntarily, signaling it was ready for round three. I crawled on top of Max, humping his cock with my slit. My clit stood at attention as I rubbed up and down, and my pussy begged for more. "Ride me, baby," Max begged, desperate to cum. That was all the encouragement I needed. I lost my inhibitions and succumbed to my body's selfish demands for more pleasure. I grasped Max's cock, slowly rubbing up and down to stimulate him further. He was on the edge of orgasm, I noted, and I was delaying his climax. I eased myself onto his cock, relishing in the warmth I felt as he slid himself into me. This was so much better than my dildo-inspired fantasy. I rocked on his dick, Max's hands guiding me up and down his shaft. His thumb pressed onto my clit, rubbing me into a fucking frenzy. I was electric. My hands tangled themselves in my curls as I rode Max's cock, the heat of our lovemaking spreading across my body. I felt like a sex goddess, crying out as we humped and jostled our way to climax. Max's orgasm hit first. He groaned, a primal cry escaping his lips. I felt his fluids fill me, and I clenched down on his cock as he thrust me harder against him. He was crying out loudly, language escaping him, only grunts and moans. His thumb dug onto my clit, wildly trying to rub me into an orgasm. Curly I felt my body slip into another orgasm as Max thrust his hardest against me. His cock hit my G-spot hard, and I cried out with a long sigh, again unable to form any coherent thoughts. My pussy clamped against Max's cock as he released his final drops of cum into my hole. My arms and legs were twitching, and I could barely hold myself upright as the orgasm washed over me. I had never been brought to such a wracking orgasm by any man. I collapsed on the bed next to Max. We lay together for a few minutes, unable to move, think, or speak. He broke the silence with a slow laugh. I turned to face him. "What's so funny?" I managed, my eyes half-closed from the intensity of my climax. He propped himself up on one arm, draping the other around my frame. He pulled me close and stroked my hair. "That..." "That was good," I finished for him, sounding more wistful than I intended. As the pangs of orgasm faded, I was retreating into shy Charlotte once more. What have I done, regretting my decision to go out at all. "That was amazing, Curly." As Max dubbed me with a new nickname, he kissed me gently, first on my forehead, then on my nose. He moved his head backwards, and I moved forward to finish with a sweet kiss on the lips. "Yeah. Not a bad Friday night." I was afraid he was retreating into his aloof self. "Not a bad first date at all," he agreed. "First?" I said, hopeful it was said with purpose. "Oh, yeah," he responded, settling to hold me as we drifted into post-coital sleep together. "I'm sure we'll have many more..." ~~~ I awoke groggily the next morning, the early rays of sun piercing my eyelids. What happened? As I stirred, I recounted the events of the past evening. Max had taken me on a date. Max had brought me home. Max had made love to me... I was nude, wrapped like a burrito in the red silk sheets of Max's boudoir. And I was alone. I gathered the sheets around me to hide my chest and torso, even though it felt silly, even though Max had explored the deepest crevices of my person only a few hours prior. Crap! I smacked my forehead with regret. It had been so easy to fall into Max's arms while dancing, while kissing. He had felt safe and comfortable and right, so right. As I sat in bed deliberating my current predicament, Max walked into the bedroom. His torso glimmered with beads of moisture, and he had thrown a lime-green terry towel around his waist. He flashed me an easy grin as water dripped from his matted curls. "Morning, sunshine." I gave him a wary smile, too nervous and upset to trust myself with anything more revealing. I hugged the sheets closer as Max ambled towards his bed. "Morning," I mumbled. My heart was racing, my head spinning, as Max crawled across his beds towards me. He planted a soft kiss on my lips. "What's wrong?" he asked when I did not kiss back. I sighed, conflicted with the pleasure of our sexual escapades and the groaning dread of having Max breaking my heart. "I...can't." "You can't what?" "I can't do this." "Do what?" I was irritated by his casual demeanor. "I can't do THIS, Max!" I shouted, turning away from him. He paused, a heavy silence filling the bedroom. "I can't wake up to you after a night of hot sex and pretend that I don't want more. I can't kiss you in between classes and pretend I'm not worried that you'll meet somebody in Photography. I can't dance with you on Fridays only to see you with some freshman on Saturday." I turned back to him, red-faced and flustered. He looked stunned. "I don't know what to say," he admitted. I groaned, flopping back on the bed. "Hey, hey," he said softly, climbing under the sheets to join me. "Let's just talk about this..." Max's shower-damp body pressed against mine. My head was shouting at me to turn away, to stiffen against his form, to deny him my inner thoughts and just walk away. I curled into him. He felt like home. "What did you mean when you said I was the only girl you could never have?" I asked into his chest. "When did I say that?" "At your party at the beginning of the year." "Was I drunk?" "Super drunk." "Who was I with?" "Some freshman...she wore clothes that weren't...Katelynn?" I looked up to see Max's smile spread slowly across his face, obviously lost in the memory of that night. I hoped he had changed his sheets since then. "Max!" I cried, desperate for him to regain focus on me. Max chuckled, ruffling my morning hair with one of his free hands. "What did you mean?" Max took a deep breath and looked at me seriously. "Charlotte..." he began, unsure of how to address the question. I feared the worst and inched away from his damp, toned body. "From the first night I met you, I knew you were something else." "What is that supposed to mean?" "You're shy, but unbelievably sexy. You were in to me, but you never threw yourself at me. You're smart, but unassuming. You're intuitive, but you're not willing to share." "Don't men like a chase?" "I thought I'd never catch up." "But I kissed you so many times..." "I wasn't ready for what you needed." "What do I need?" Max considered this for a moment, kissing me absentmindedly on the forehead. I traced the contours of his body while he pondered my question. "You need stability and love. You need to be comfortable. You need someone to hold your hand while you figure out what you want from life and from yourself." "And you couldn't give me that?" "No." The words stung, even though I knew they were true. "Can you give me that now?" "Do you really need all that?" "Yes." "Then...no." "So why," I challenged him, wresting myself from his grip, "did you ask me out on Thursday?" "Because I couldn't wait any longer." "You mean you wanted to find out if you could lay the girl who never tried to pursue you?" "I knew you'd say yes." "Even though you claimed to know I have feelings for you?" "Your hair," he mused, twisting my curls with his index finger, "you're so sexy..." "And that is justification for asking me out?" "Well, you said yes, didn't you?" I was furious at Max, but I was more upset at myself, for letting myself think for one night that he had changed. "Yes, but, but..." I sputtered in anger. Max looked at me with his deep eyes, and I found my anger melting away. I turned my head, desperate to stay mad. "Charlotte," his voice pleaded. No. I would not be another one of his conquests. "I can change..." No. "I can try a relationship...I can try to be a good guy..." "No." "No?" "I'm not going to try to change you...it won't end well." "What do you mean?" I looked at him with sad eyes. "Why did you ask me out?" "Because you looked hot." "In my sweatpants?" I asked, exasperated. "Your hair," he said quietly, embarrassed to open up to me. My eyes glowered, unamused. "Go on," I prodded. "You wore it down, curly, not caring what anybody thought. You were so focused on your work, you stopped caring about the stupid things in life. You stopped with the makeup and the parties and the boys. You stopped being shy little Charlotte, too afraid to try new things." "And that's what you like about me now?" "Yep." Max grinned sheepishly. He thought he had won, he thought he had convinced me to stay. No. "Do you know what I like about you?" "What's that?" he asked, crawling closer to me. His eyes sparkled; he wanted more sex. "That you have never changed. That you will never change. That you were unreachable, unfuckable, untouchable..." "That's what I like about you, Char, you always see through my bullshit." Max leaned in to kiss me. I held up a hand between my lips. Max backed away, confused. "No." I stated again. "I never saw through your bullshit." I yanked the sheets off the bed as I stood, adjusting them around myself to maintain dignity. I shuffled around the room, picking up my discarded clothing. Bra, thong, underwear, tube top... "But I do now." I walked out of the room, leaving Max's cock hard and his mouth agape.