The thing with Wilbur was that although he had basically been your childhood friend all your life, you weren’t really friends. There was something seriously wrong with him. Or well, there wasn’t, but once puberty hit, that’s when he started going downhill. He had been a sweet kid, he played a lot with you and the rest of the neighborhood kids.

Memories of skinned knees, first time riding bikes without training wheels and pinky promises would come to mind any time you remembered anything about him. Brown curls framing his face as he grinned, lanky limbs flailing around when he fell.

But once middle-school came around, it’s like there was some sort of switch that got flipped in him and he did a complete 180. Where you developed into a young woman, getting your period, gaining your curves and getting braces, he got acne, had a small growth spurt and stayed inside pretty much all the time. Every time that you invited him to play outside, he’d refuse and say something about playing on his stupid computer.

You rarely got any glimpses of him anymore, just the occasional view of him taking out the trash at 7:30 pm the night before trashday. Or whenever you both coincidentally arrived home at the same time. To be frank, you also had changed schools, given that your parents had separated and now your full custody was with your dad.

Which meant that running into him, especially now, with you both being, presumably, in college, it would be harder to bump into him. You didn’t know anything about him anymore, you didn’t know if he had gone to college or maybe university? If he was employed or unemployed? Did he move to another state? The possibilities were truly endless and genuinely, you didn’t wreck your brain much about it.

So color yourself surprised when you bump into a lanky tall guy who grumbles a ‘watch where you’re going.’ And when you turn, you see Wilbur.

You laugh as you recognize him and he seems confused until he squints and seems to recognize you in the party’s lowlight. You both shuffle into a corner of the house and catch up. Mostly due to you, tipsy and eager, finding his acne scars cute and his height hot, grab his big hand and lead him to where you want him.

You can smell the beer in his breath but to be fair, yours was probably not any better. You guys talked for a bit, although it felt like hours and hours and hours. You noticed a bunch of stuff about him as you watched him stutter slightly while talking, especially whenever you leaned closer to him. He couldn’t hold eye contact for longer than 11 seconds (you counted) and he had a habit of calling women ‘females’ with light disdain in his voice. He cracked his knuckles a lot, and his hands were really pretty. Big, slender, veiny and sprinkled with little moles. You found yourself slightly hypnotized by them whenever he talked and gestured with them around.

He was studying something with… computers, and he had a hobby of playing the guitar. Although he prefers gaming all day. He likes monsters, and his favorite flavor is the ‘Strawberry dreams’ one. He wants to start going to the gym because he’s tired of getting ‘mogged’ by ‘true chads’ and that ‘femoids’ only really pay attention to ‘Adams’. You had no idea what he was saying. You didn’t care. There was a Kesha song playing and he looked and sounded hot.

You gathered all this information by staring at mostly his lips, and they were slightly chapped, you didn’t notice he stopped talking until you glanced up from watching his unmoving mouth for a few prolonged seconds.

“Huh?” You asked softly, and he smirked down at you, caging you in against the wall, hands on either side of your head as he leaned down a little. His nose brushed yours as his eyebrows scrunched up in faux sympathy. “You’re staring.” He said, with a hint of amusement in his voice. But it was clear he was nervous, or at least not used to female attention, or any positive attention for that matter.

“Sorry, I was just reading your lips, it’s hard to hear when the music is so loud.” You muttered an apology as you glanced up at his brown eyes. He didn’t look convinced and leaned down even further, lips brushing your ear. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

But you weren’t. You tilted your head as his smirk widened further, he was acting like he already had you figured out. Taking your challenge as you simply playing hard to get. All girls are like that, he thought, all were sluts.

Apparently, he took your confused expression as an invitation and leaned in to kiss you, you turned your head, effectively swerving him, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Don’t do that.” He whispered, hand gripping your hair and forcing you to look at him. “Look at how you’re dressed, you want it- Want me.” And he’s kissing you. He swallows your gasp as he tilts his head forcing the kiss even deeper. You can tell he doesn’t know how to kiss from his lack of technique and eagerness at this.

His teeth graze your tongue, and his tongue is too shy to fully go in, a contradiction of want, need and knowledge. Once he finally pulls away, you’re gasping for air and he’s sucking hickeys into your neck. His method is too rough and it has some heat pooling in your stomach from the sheer enthusiasm he exhibits. “Wil-“ You make out and he looks up at you. “What? What is it?” Had you finally noticed that he was a virgin? So quickly? Did you sober enough to see how disgusting and ugly he was? Could you smell that he had little to no deodorant on? Were his lips too chapped?

“Let’s go back to mine.” You said between deep breaths. You were inviting him to your apartment. You wanted him there. You wanted him. He was going to get to fuck you.

The journey back to your apartment that was near the frat house both of you were at was quick, soon enough he was on top of you on your bed, hands slipping under your dress as he mapped you out, memorizing that this is what a woman felt like. You could feel the hard ridge of his erection against your thigh, the coarse fabric of his skinny jeans making it drag even more noticeably against your bare thigh.

“You’re so… so soft.” He muttered with dazed awe as he nuzzled against your neck, licking a stripe up your neck, slobbering disgustingly against you. “Wilbur, stop licking me like I’m a lollipop.” You said firmly, but he wasn’t listening, dry humping your leg like some dog, his teeth grazed your neck again, nose pressed against it as he inhaled you like you were coke. “Smells so good, do all females smell this good?”

You grabbed his mop of girls and forcefully pulled him off just as he was about to bite you. His teeth made a clicking sound as he bit air and he groaned at his hair being pulled off. He didn’t stop, though, instead, pushing your dress up to your waist as he stared at your wet panties. “You didn’t shave?” He asks, confused, frowning. You roll your eyes. “Yeah, so? Did you?” His eyes snapped up to you, defensive. “That’s different.” A blush creeps up his neck as he stares down at your body. “G-guys don’t have to shave. It’s manly to have hair, raises our PSL scale.” He rambles on about things you’ve only heard about online and barely even understand. “Wilbur, shut the fuck up and fuck me.” He says too quickly and fumbles with his belt and jeans. “Y-yeah. Fuck. Fuck!” He’s so desperate and anxious that he can’t work his belt buckle and you have to help him.

Once his belt is off and his jeans are pushed down with his boxers, his cock is springing free, big, and veiny. You momentarily pause, which makes Wilbur’s anxiety spiral even more. “W-what?” He squeaked out, looking down at his twitching member. He had showered today… right? He didn’t even remember.

“Do you not have condoms on you?” You questioned as you stared at his cock, curved to the right. Wilbur bit his chapped lips so hard they bled. “N-no… I didn’t think I’d… get… I-“ You sighed and reached over to your nightstand to check if there were any left, there weren't and you groaned. “Fine, but pull out.” He nodded as he took off your panties, sniffing them like some creep before stuffing them in his backpocket. He tried to instantly slip inside and you pushed at his chest.

“You have to prep me first, honestly, is this your first time?” You huffed, annoyed. If he didn’t have such a big looking dick, you would’ve thrown him out, honestly. “No.” He said, quickly, defensively.

“J-Just thought…” He murmured as he stared at you, hips bucking back and forth, thrusting into the air. He looked utterly unsure of what to do. Normally, in the porn he watched, the guy just slipped it in.

“You have to stretch me out, Wilbur.” And he nodded, swallowing nervously as he felt the drool pool in his mouth. He reached out, long slim fingers teasing your clit accidentally. You moaned softly as he found your bundle of nerves with pure luck. He moved his hand, trying to mimic what he saw in the porns and hentais when they fingered the girls. middle and ring finger slipping in your wet cunt with a little fight. You were tight, and he should’ve started out with only one finger, but the stretch felt so good and his fingers were so long it made you see stars.

With you moaning and arching into his fingers, it was enough to make him spill precum all over his dick. “Fuck… s-so pretty…” He bit his lip again and his rhythm faltered, making you grind your hips against his hand, making the tips of his fingers hit the spongy spot inside of you, making you see stars. “W-will…” You moan and he eagerly adds another finger, earning a whimper from you. His thumb rubs your folds, clearly not able to find your clit, which if you had been completely sober, it would’ve gotten you as dry as physically possible. But somehow, this lucky bastard found it last second, thumb rubbing your clit gingerly as he fucked your cunt with his fingers.

“Mhmm? What is it p-pretty girl?” He tilted his head. “Feels good?” He said with faux sweetness. “So easy, t-taking m’fingers like a slut.” He degraded you, and honestly, even though his words were meant to be cutting, the way he stammered, stuttered and his voice cracked made him sound so pathetic. “Tell me whose pussy this is…” He muttered, and you placed your foot in his chest to push him off, but he grabbed your ankle and licked the sole of your feet, making his way up until he sucked your toes, his pupils were dilated. “You’re so disgusting, like a dog.” You groaned as he scissored his fingers in your cunt.

“M’your dog.” He moaned softly between lapping at your foot. You cringed at the feel of his mouth on your feet. You leaned forward, grabbing his hair and forcing his face against your cunt, the movement made his hand slip out of you.

“Stop sucking my feet, weirdo.” You scolded as he whimpered pathetically against your cunt. “You want to be a dog? Be a fucking good one at least.” He glared up at you, but relented, giving kitten licks against your folds. “Mm, that’s a good puppy, isn’t it?” You tugged at his hair, forcing his mouth higher, over your clit. He growled as he suckled on your clit. This was so fucking humiliating for him. He was between your thighs, kneeling on the floor like some fucking simp. But fuck, your taste was so addicting, and the smell of your arousal made his cock ooze precum like it was pee.

“Dumb mutt,” You said, looking down on him with a lustful stare. His eyes fluttered close, nuzzling his nose against your pubes as he lost himself in you. He was making out with your cunt, lapping at it, pressing kisses, both open mouthed and not all over your labia, his teeth grazed your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He somehow found flowstate like that, and you were on the edge of an orgasm in seconds. That telltale feeling like you were about to pee yourself was overwhelming as you tugged on his hair, bringing him back to the present. By the time he opened his eyes, you were already squirting all over his face.

And holy shit he knew pornstars squirted but he always thought that shit was pee. His cock twitched uselessly as he felt his face and shirt get soaked.

Once you were done, you let out a high pitched whimper and went boneless, exhausted and drained. “M’fuck…” You sigh out, he rises to his feet, grabbing the back of your knees and spreading your legs. “Will… what are you doin-“ You were mid question when he slipped his cock in you with a wet pop. He groaned as he bottomed out, hands holding your legs apart so tightly, you knew you were going to bruise. “F-fuck.”

He pulled his hips back all the way and slammed them against you again, knocking the air out of you. “Females feel so fucking good… so much better than a fleshlight…” He muttered as he bit his lip again. He didn’t have any finesse during sex. Clearly inexperienced. His head was tilted back and he sighed out a loud moan. He blinked up at the ceiling, it hit him that he was fucking you, he wasn’t dreaming, this was real.

He pushed your dress further up, exposing your bra, he growled and grabbed the front of it, desperately trying to rip it off while his hips fucked into you, he broke the front part of it from pulling, tearing it and making your tits spill out, nipples tight from your orgasm. “Pretty tits, fuck, you’re so fucking s-sexy. L-Like… Riley R-Reid or M-Mia Khalifa…” You were a mess underneath him, legs shaking in his hold as his body slammed against yours, the impacts hitting your sensitive clit and making you see stars. Wilbur kept trying to push your dress fully off, but he only had one hand, he growled again, frustrated.

You tried to fight his hand, it was too rough, but in the scuffle, he slapped you. “Stop fighting me, bitch.” You gasped as his big, slender hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing. “You take what I fucking give you, I-I don’t care if I have to rape you. You’re just a f-fucking hole.” He groaned, feeling your cunt tighten around him as he grinned down at you.

“Uhuh? You like that?” He taunted. “Fucking whore, knew all the girls are the same.” He chuckled as he fucked into you, you felt his balls tighten up, the telltale of his orgasm getting closer. Judging from his stamina and given that this was definitely his first time, he probably jerks off constantly, that’s why he didn’t empty his load the second his cock slipped in.