My knuckles barely graze Sabrina's door before it swings open like she's been crouched behind it, waiting. She stands there with her black hoodie pulled up, casting shadows across her face that can't hide the crimson flush spreading across her cheeks.
"Get in here, quick," she whispers, glancing nervously down the hallway.
Before I can respond, her small hand darts out and grabs my wrist, yanking me inside with surprising strength for someone so petite. The door slams behind us with a definitive click as she throws the deadbolt.
"What's with the rush?" I ask, watching her press her back against the door like she's barricading it against zombies. "Are you hiding from someone?"
Sabrina tugs at her hood, pulling it lower over her face as she peeks up at me through her lashes. Her green eyes are bright with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement that makes my heart do a weird flip in my chest.
"No, I just..." She fidgets with the drawstrings of her hoodie, twirling them around her finger. "I thought it'd be funner if I was all swift about it. You know, like in spy movies."
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, unexpected and genuine. This girl is so wonderfully, unapologetically strange. The nervous energy I've been carrying since leaving Mom dissolves, replaced by something lighter, easier to breathe through.
"'Funner' isn't actually a word," I point out, unable to help myself. "I think you mean 'more fun.'"
Sabrina rolls her eyes dramatically. "Grammar police! Are you going to arrest me?" She grabs my hand again, tugging me toward the suite's small living area. "Come on, I promised you Netflix, didn't I?"
I let her lead me to the couch, a surprisingly decent one for a dorm room, with only a few mysterious stains that I decide not to think too hard about. She pushes me down onto the cushions with playful force, then bounces over to the TV, fiddling with the remote.
"Make yourself comfortable," she says, her voice pitched slightly higher than normal. "I've got something special queued up."
The TV flickers to life, and my entire body freezes as the screen fills with unmistakable imagery. A classroom setting, a male teacher sitting at his desk while a woman with impossibly large breasts leans over it, her skirt barely covering anything.
"Holy shit," I choke out, my eyes widening to the point of physical pain. "This is Netflix?"
The moaning starts immediately, explicit and theatrical. The "teacher" grabs the woman and bends her over the desk, ripping her blouse open to reveal breasts that defy both gravity and anatomy.
Sabrina whips around, her face transforming into a mask of pure panic. She lunges for the remote, frantically jabbing buttons while muttering a stream of profanities that would make a sailor blush.
"Oh my god, oh my god, wrong app," she sputters, finally managing to exit whatever streaming service was definitely not Netflix. Her face is now roughly the color of a fire engine. "I'm so sorry! My roommates, they don't leave often and I…" She covers her face with both hands.
"Hey, it's fine," I say with a reassuring smile, trying to ease her obvious mortification. "We've all watched stuff like that. No judgment here."
Sabrina peeks through her fingers, her green eyes wide with embarrassment. She slowly lowers her hands, revealing her still-crimson face.
"This is so humiliating," she mumbles, then takes a deep breath. "The truth is... this was actually my plan."
"Your plan?" I repeat, confused.
"Yeah." She sinks onto the couch beside me, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I thought watching something... adult... might set the mood. But then when it actually started playing, I completely freaked out." She buries her face against her knees. "God, I'm such a disaster."
I blink, processing this confession. "Wait, what?"
Sabrina lifts her head, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Gabe, I'm a virgin," she blurts out. "I've never done... anything. And I thought maybe tonight we could... but I'm obviously terrible at this whole seduction thing."
"That's totally fine," I say quickly, reaching for her hand. "Being a virgin is no issue at all. There's no rush for anything."
She studies my face intently, her fingers tentatively squeezing mine. "What about you?" she asks softly. "Are you... experienced?"
"Uhhhh." My mind flashes back to the frat party, to Mom beneath me, to the overwhelming sensation that ended almost as soon as it began. Five thrusts. The memory makes my stomach twist with shame.
"I, uh, had sex once," I say, my mouth suddenly dry. "Back in high school. I was pretty drunk, so I don't remember much about it."
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but the alternative, telling her the truth, is unthinkable.
Sabrina's expression softens with relief. "So you're not like some player with a ton of experience? That actually makes me feel better." She scoots closer, her thigh pressing against mine. "I was worried you'd have all these expectations."
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against my side. The warmth of her body is comforting, uncomplicated in a way that makes my chest ache.
"No expectations," I promise, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "We can just hang out and actually watch Netflix if you want."
Sabrina fidgets with the zipper of her hoodie. "Actually, I don't want to just watch Netflix," she whispers, her voice barely audible. Before I can respond, she takes a deep breath and in one swift motion pulls the zipper down all the way.
My breath catches in my throat. She's completely naked underneath, no shirt, no pants, nothing but smooth ebony skin illuminated by the soft glow of the TV screen. My eyes widen as I realize this is deliberate, not like that accidental flashing incident at Burger King when she forgot she wasn't wearing anything under her hoodie. This time, she planned it.
"Holy shit," I manage to whisper, my voice suddenly hoarse.
Her entire body trembles as she sits there exposed, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Despite her boldness, I can see she's fighting against every instinct telling her to cover up. Her chest rises and falls with rapid, shallow breaths.
"I'm really into you, Gabe," she says, her voice cracking with vulnerability. "Like, way more than I've ever been into anyone before."
The raw honesty in her voice makes my heart squeeze. This isn't just nervousness, it's terror mixed with determination. She's putting herself completely on display, both physically and emotionally.
I reach out slowly, taking her hand in mine. "Sabrina, you don't have to do this to impress me."
"I know," she says, her green eyes locking with mine. "But I want to. I've been thinking about this since we met. I just, I'm not good at the in-between stuff. I either overthink everything or just... jump in headfirst."
I gently pull her hood back, revealing her face fully. Her short black hair frames her features perfectly, highlighting the determined set of her jaw despite the fear in her eyes.
My heart thunders in my chest as I lean in toward her, my lips finding hers in a tentative kiss. Unlike our previous encounters, there's an awkwardness now, a hesitation born from the weight of what might happen next. Our noses bump, and I tilt my head at the wrong angle, our teeth clacking together briefly before I readjust.
"Sorry," I murmur against her mouth.
She responds by deepening the kiss, her hands cupping my face with surprising confidence for someone who just admitted to being completely inexperienced. Then, without warning, she grabs my wrist and guides my hand downward, placing my palm directly against her most intimate area.
I freeze, my brain short-circuiting at the sudden contact. The heat of her radiates against my palm, but I notice immediately she's not as slick as I expected, as Mom was this morning. Anxiety spikes through me as I realize I have no idea what I'm doing.
"Is this okay?" Sabrina whispers.
"Yeah, it's... it's perfect," I manage, my fingers cautiously exploring. She shifts uncomfortably, and I can tell she's not quite ready despite her bold move.
An idea strikes me, and before I can overthink it, I pull my hand away and bring my fingers to my mouth. I maintain eye contact as I wet them thoroughly with my tongue, watching her eyes widen in shock.
"Oh my god," she squeaks, covering her face with her hands. "That's so… I didn't think you'd…"
"Too much?" I ask, suddenly worried I've crossed a line.
She peeks through her fingers, her blush visible even in the dim light. "No, it's hot," she admits.
I return my now-moistened fingers to her, and this time her sharp intake of breath tells me I've done something right. Her embarrassment quickly transforms into something else entirely as I begin to explore her with gentle, experimental touches.
"Is this good?" I ask, watching her face for cues, desperate not to mess this up.
Sabrina nods frantically, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans back against the couch cushions. "Please don't stop," she whispers, her voice catching on the last word.
As I continue my cautious exploration, I'm struck by how different this feels from anything with Mom, not just physically, but emotionally. There's no power struggle here, no twisted history, just two people figuring things out together. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm not drowning in shame.
Her hips lift slightly off the couch, seeking more contact as my fingers find a rhythm that seems to work. The soft, breathy sounds she makes send heat coursing through my veins. I'm completely focused on her reactions, watching the way her face changes with each touch, learning what makes her gasp.
After a few minutes of this exploration, Sabrina suddenly grabs my wrist, halting my movements. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire.
"Come with me," she whispers, standing up in one fluid motion. She doesn't bother closing her hoodie as she leads me toward her bedroom, her naked body moving with a newfound confidence that takes my breath away.
Her room is small but cozy, string lights casting a warm glow over her unmade bed. My eyes immediately catch on something sitting on her nightstand, a small blue box of condoms, still sealed with the price sticker visible.
Sabrina follows my gaze and bites her lip. "I, um, got those yesterday," she admits, her voice small. "Just in case."
I nod, trying to look like I know what I'm doing, but panic flares in my chest. I've never actually put on a condom before. My one experience didn't involve one, and I have no idea if there's some trick to it that I'm supposed to know.
She sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at me with those big green eyes. "I'm on the pill, though," she adds quickly. "So you don't have to wear one if you don't want to."
I stare at her, confused. She went out and bought condoms but doesn't care if I use them? My brain scrambles to make sense of this contradiction.
"Do you want me to wear one?" I ask, genuinely lost.
Sabrina fidgets with the edge of her blanket, her confidence from moments ago evaporating. "I don't know," she admits, looking anywhere but at me. Then she takes a deep breath and meets my eyes. "No, I think... I think it might be nice to have my first time be raw."
The word "raw" in her mouth sounds so innocent and dirty at the same time. Her face flushes darker as she says it, embarrassment radiating off her in waves.
"Are you sure?" I ask, sitting beside her on the bed. "I'm completely clean, I swear. But I want you to be comfortable."
She nods, her hand finding mine and squeezing tight. "I'm sure. I want to feel everything. With you."
My heart pounds against my ribs as I lean in to kiss her again, this time with more confidence. Her lips part beneath mine, eager and trusting. I gently guide her back onto the bed, my body hovering over hers as our kisses deepen.
"Wait," she breathes against my mouth. "You're wearing too many clothes."
The urgency in Sabrina's voice sends a jolt through me. I pull back, tugging my shirt over my head in one swift motion, revealing my chest to her hungry gaze. Her fingers trace hesitant patterns across my skin, exploring each contour with a reverence that makes my breath catch.
"All of it," she whispers, her eyes never leaving mine as I stand to unbuckle my belt.
My jeans and boxers hit the floor together, and I'm suddenly, completely exposed. Sabrina's eyes widen as she takes me in, her lips parting in a silent "oh" that sends heat rushing through my veins.
I lower myself onto the bed beside her, and she immediately slides her hoodie completely off, casting it to the floor. The sight of her fully naked body steals my breath away, her smooth ebony skin glowing in the soft light, her breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath.
As I move over her, our bodies align like puzzle pieces finding their match. Her skin is impossibly soft against mine, every point of contact sending electricity coursing through me. Our lips meet again, hungrier now, as she parts her legs to welcome me between them.
Her hand reaches down between us, fingers wrapping around me with cautious exploration. I feel her guiding me toward her entrance, but her movements are uncertain, fumbling.
"I can't… I can't find it," she admits with a nervous laugh, her hand still trying to position me correctly.
The innocence in her confession makes my heart swell. I smile down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
"Let me help," I murmur, reaching between us to take myself in hand.
I position the tip against her entrance, the heat of her radiating against me. Our eyes lock, and in hers I see both fear and determination mingling with desire.
"Are you absolutely sure you're ready for this?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Sabrina nods, her entire body tensing beneath me as she braces herself. "I'm ready," she whispers, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
I push forward slowly, expecting resistance, prepared to be gentle, but I slide inside her with surprising ease, her body accepting me completely in one smooth motion. The sensation is overwhelming, her heat enveloping me in a way that makes my vision blur at the edges.
A startled laugh escapes her lips, her eyes wide with something like relief.
"Oh! That was... easier than I expected," she says, her voice breathy with surprise. "I should probably explain, I, um, technically broke my hymen already."
I pause, buried inside her, trying to process her words through the haze of pleasure clouding my mind. "Oh?"
Her cheeks darken as she bites her lower lip. "I was curious, okay? I wanted to see if I could fit a cucumber up there."
"What?" The word bursts from my mouth before I can stop it, my brain momentarily short-circuiting at this unexpected confession.
Sabrina silences me with a kiss, her lips capturing mine with newfound confidence. The sudden pressure of her mouth against mine sends a jolt through my system, grounding me in the moment.
I begin to move, rocking my hips in a gentle rhythm. The sensation of being inside her is incredible, warm, wet, inviting, but as I establish a steady pace, I notice something unexpected. There's no frantic urgency building at the base of my spine, no desperate race toward release.
With every thrust, I wait for that familiar panic to set in, that terrifying certainty that I'll finish too soon. But it doesn't come.
Her body yields around me, welcoming but different. Less overwhelming. Less consuming. The realization hits me like a thunderbolt, I'm not struggling to hold back. I'm not counting thrusts, desperately trying to delay the inevitable.
She's not Mom.
The thought crashes through me with stunning clarity. Sabrina is soft and warm beneath me, her small hands clutching at my shoulders, her green eyes gazing up with wonder and trust. She's beautiful, she's perfect for what she is, but she doesn't ignite that primal, overwhelming need that makes control impossible.
A twisted understanding blooms in my mind. I'm not actually bad at this. I'm not some hair-trigger virgin who can't last more than a few seconds. It's just that with Mom, the forbidden nature of it all, the years of suppressed desire, the unholy love, the taboo that should never be broken, it's all too much for my body to handle.
That's so fucked up.
I push the thought away, focusing on Sabrina, on the present. She deserves my full attention, my complete presence. She deserves better than to be compared to anyone, especially not to Mom.
"You feel amazing," I whisper against her ear, increasing my pace deliberately. I drive into her with more purpose now, my strokes deeper, more confident.
Sabrina gasps, her back arching off the bed. "Oh my god," she breathes, her nails digging half-moons into my shoulders. "That's, that's good."
I capture her lips again, silencing her with a passionate kiss as I continue to thrust. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I feel a moan vibrate through her chest against mine.
"More," she pleads when our lips part, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please, Gabe, more."
I oblige her plea, driving deeper with each thrust, my body finding a rhythm that makes her gasp and tremble beneath me. Her fingers clutch at my back, nails scraping against my skin as her breathing grows more ragged. I watch her face transform, her eyes fluttering closed, her lips parting in silent ecstasy before a low moan escapes her throat.
"Oh God, Gabe... I think I'm—" Her words dissolve into a sharp cry as her body suddenly tenses, back arching off the mattress. She's coming undone, her inner walls pulsing around me as waves of pleasure crash through her. The sensation is incredible, but strangely, I feel completely in control. No urgency, no desperate race toward my own release.
I slow my movements slightly, letting her ride through her climax, watching with fascination as she trembles and gasps beneath me. When her breathing begins to steady, I start moving again, finding that same deep rhythm that sent her over the edge.
"That was..." she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion, "incredible."
"We're just getting started," I whisper against her neck, surprising myself with my confidence.
Time seems to stretch and compress around us. I lose track of how long we've been moving together, my body finding different angles, different depths that make her whimper and cry out. Sweat glistens on her skin, catching the soft glow of the string lights above us. Her second orgasm builds more slowly than the first, but when it hits, it's more intense, her entire body shuddering as she calls my name like a prayer.
I keep going, marveling at my unexpected stamina. The digital clock on her nightstand shows thirty minutes have passed since we began. My muscles burn pleasantly with exertion, but the desperate need for release remains distant, manageable.
Sabrina's eyes find mine, glazed with satisfaction but tinged with exhaustion. Her chest heaves with each breath, her limbs shaking gently. She reaches up to touch my face, her fingers tracing my jawline with tender curiosity.
"Are you close?" she asks, her voice soft and slightly hoarse. "I don't think I can take much more."
There's no judgment in her question, just genuine wonder and a hint of physical fatigue. I realize I've been so focused on her pleasure, on proving something to myself, that I've pushed her beyond her limits.
"I can stop," I offer immediately, starting to pull away.
"No," she says quickly, hands finding my hips to keep me inside her. "I want you to finish. I just... need you to know it's okay if you do."
Her words pierce through me, unleashing a wave of embarrassment that burns across my skin. I've been so focused on proving I could last that I didn't consider she might be getting sore or tired.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, suddenly feeling inadequate despite my unexpected endurance. "I want to finish for you."
A strange desperation floods through me as I increase my pace, searching for that elusive release. But my body refuses to cooperate, I'm caught in some bizarre limbo where pleasure builds but never crests.
Then unbidden, my mind conjures the image from this afternoon—Mom in the kitchen, sundress bunched around her waist, exposing herself completely. The memory of her glistening folds, the way she spread herself wider, offering herself to me with that hungry look in her eyes.
"Gabriel, do you want to taste me?" The phantom of her voice echoes in my mind.
My tongue darts out, wetting my lips at the thought of how she would taste, sweet and forbidden, and suddenly the dam breaks. Heat surges through me like wildfire, my hips bucking uncontrollably as I drive into Sabrina with renewed urgency.
"Oh fuck," I gasp, my entire body tensing as the first pulse of release tears through me.
I don't even make it through three more thrusts before I fall apart entirely, emptying myself inside her with a broken groan. Stars explode behind my eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, more intense than anything I've experienced before.
When I finally collapse beside her, my chest heaving with exertion, shame and confusion battle for dominance in my mind. It wasn't Sabrina who pushed me over the edge, it was the thought of Mom.
"That was..." Sabrina breathes, curling against my side with a contented sigh, "...amazing."
I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close while trying to quiet the storm in my head. Her body is warm and soft against mine, her breathing gradually slowing as she nuzzles into my chest.
"You were incredible," she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone. "I can't believe you lasted so long. I was starting to think you didn't like me."
The irony of her words makes me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. If she only knew what finally triggered my release, she'd be disgusted. I'm disgusted with myself.
"You were perfect," I assure her, stroking her hair. "Sometimes it just takes me a while."
Another lie in my life. Stacked on top of a mountain.