Seducing the virgin that helped me pass my class (19f)

God, I was totally fucking up history class this semester, barely clinging to a D and panicking about losing my volleyball scholarship. I needed a savior, so I zeroed in on Ethan, this 20-year-old who lived two doors down in the dorm. He was built like a tank, six foot two of solid muscle from lifting every day, broad shoulders, thick arms, and a chest that stretched every shirt, but he was painfully shy, always blushing and mumbling, eyes dropping to the floor when anyone talked to him. He was a total virgin, I could tell, and that made him perfect for me to satisfy my kinks

I asked him to tutor me, leaning in close during a hallway chat, my low-cut tank top letting my tits nearly spill out, nipples already hard from the thrill.

“You’re so smart, Ethan, please help a girl out?” I said, voice sweet, brushing my bare thigh against his.

He stammered, “Uh, sure, Eva,” face turning red, and I felt my pussy throb right there, a warm slick starting to drip between my legs.

I never wear a bra or panties, ever. The freedom makes me wet just walking around, and around Ethan I was always soaked.

We started meeting every Tuesday in the common study area, and I turned it into my personal slut game, teasing him until I could feel my own wetness soaking my shorts. First session, I wore a thin white tank top, nipples poking through like little beacons, and the shortest black shorts I owned, pussy bare underneath. I sat across from him, legs spread just enough that if he glanced down he’d see my smooth lips peeking out. When I “dropped” my pen, I bent over slow, ass up, feeling the cool air on my pussy, knowing he was staring. My clit was already swollen, a slick bead of wetness trailing down my inner thigh as I straightened up.

“Oops,” I giggled innocently, biting my lip, watching his eyes flick away fast, his muscular thighs tensing under the table.

I felt powerful, my pussy pulsing with heat, the wetness making my shorts cling to my folds every time I shifted. By the end of that hour, my pussy was dripping so much I could smell my own musky scent in the air, and I loved how he squirmed, trying to focus on battles and dates while his cock strained against his jeans.

Every session got filthier. I’d show up in cropped hoodies with nothing underneath, if my arms went to high you could nearly see my nipples. Those very nipples stiff from the AC and the thrill of his stares.

I’d lean over the table to point at his notes, my tank riding up so my bare pussy lips brushed the edge of the wood, slick coating the surface for a second.

“Explain this part again,” I’d whisper, breath hot on his ear, my hand resting on his thick thigh, inching higher until I felt his muscle twitch.

He’d blush crimson, voice cracking, “Uh, the Treaty of… yeah,” but he never moved my hand away. My pussy would gush every time, wetness soaking through my shorts.

dark spot forming between my legs that I knew he could see if he dared look. I’d go home after and finger myself raw, replaying his shy stares, cumming while imagining his big hands finally grabbing me. The power trip made me wetter than anything, but the frustration of him never making a move drove me insane, my pussy aching and dripping constantly around him.

By midterms I was acing quizzes, his notes pure gold, but I was so desperate for him to make a move on me. I’d sit so close our knees touched, spreading my legs wide under the table, shorts riding up until my bare pussy was inches from his hand. Once, I “accidentally” brushed my slick inner thigh against his fingers, leaving a wet streak on his skin.

“Sorry,” I whispered, but my pussy clenched hard, fresh slick dripping down my leg as I watched him freeze, breath hitching.

He never pushed further, just blushed harder, and that shy restraint made me hornier than ever, my wetness turning into a constant leak, soaking my shorts so bad I had to change before volleyball practice some days. I started wearing even sluttier outfits, tiny tanks that barely covered my nipples and shorts so short my ass cheeks hung out, pussy lips peeking whenever I bent over. He’d stare, then look away, and I’d feel my clit throb, pussy juice running down my thighs, the scent of my arousal filling the air between us. I was obsessed, my psychology a mess of power and need, loving how I controlled him without him ever touching me back.

Finals ended and I passed with a B+, all thanks to him. I texted, “My dorm, Friday, 9 p.m., thank you gift.”

I wore a black tank top, no bra, nipples hard as fuck, and denim shorts so tiny my ass was half-out, pussy bare and already dripping from the anticipation.

Ethan knocked, nervous, glasses fogging, “You didn’t have to do this.”

I grinned, “Oh, I fucking want to,” and yanked him inside, locking the door.

I pushed him against the wall, kissing him hard, tongue deep and sloppy, tasting his minty breath. He groaned, hands finally grabbing my ass, squeezing the bare cheeks under my shorts.

“Eva,” he breathed, voice rough for the first time. I dropped to my knees, unzipped his jeans, and his cock sprang out, six inches, thick and veiny, already leaking precum.

I licked the tip slow, tasting his salty, musky virgin flavor, sharp and clean like fresh sweat mixed with need. I sucked him deep, lips tight, bobbing fast, slurping loud, spit dripping down his shaft to his balls.

“Fuck, Eva,” he moaned, hands shaking in my hair, hips twitching.

I deepthroated, gagging hard, throat squeezing his cock, eyes watering, spit trailing to my chin and pooling on the floor. My pussy was gushing now, girl-cum running down my thighs in warm trails, the wetness making my shorts cling to my folds as I knelt there.

I stood, stripped naked, taking my tank top off. My tits bounced lewdly as I flung it to the side, nipples hard. Shortly after my shorts dropped, pussy glistening and dripping, my pussy’s wetness trailing down my inner thighs in shiny lines.

The room smelled like my wet heat, musky and sweet.

“Your turn,” I said, pushing him to my bed, straddling his face.

“Lick,” I ordered, and he dove in, clumsy but desperate, tongue lapping my clit, sucking my folds, his nose buried in my pussy.

I moaned, “Good fucking boy,” grinding hard, soaking his glasses and chin with my juices, the wetness coating his lips as I rocked.

My hips moved faster, clit throbbing, his tongue sloppy but perfect, hitting my spot.

I came quick, “Fuck, baby!” squirting slick all over his face, drenching him, my pussy pulsing as I smeared my juices across his mouth.

I slid down, “My turn,” and straddled his cock, six inches sliding in slow, my pussy tight and dripping, stretching around him with a wet squelch. I rode him hard, ass slapping his thighs, bed creaking like it’d break, my tits bouncing wild, nipples begging to be touched.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hands gripping my hips, thrusting up to meet me, his cock hitting deep.

I leaned back, rubbing my clit fast, pussy squelching loud, cum coating his balls and dripping to the sheets in shiny puddles. My mind was spinning, slut psychology in overdrive, loving the power of making this shy muscular virgin lose control while my pussy leaked everywhere, wetness turning me on even more.

Then something snapped in him. His eyes darkened, hands gripping my hips hard, and he flipped me onto my back.

“This pussy is mine, bitch,” he growled, voice suddenly deep and rough.

He slammed into me, pounding hard, cock hitting deep.

“Daddy!” I screamed, legs wrapping around him, pussy gushing wetness with every thrust.

He grabbed my long hair, pulling my head back, “You’ve been teasing me all semester, slut,” and flipped me onto my stomach, yanking my ass up.

He thrust in from behind, doggy style, cock slamming deep, balls slapping my clit.

“Take it, like a good bitch,” he grunted, hair pulling tight, spanking my ass red, it burned so good my pussy started dripping down and making a puddle.

I moaned with every thrust as my ass burned so bad, “Yes, fuck me harder daddy I’m your slut,” pussy clenching, cum squirting out with every thrust, soaking the bed in warm puddles.

He pounded relentless, cock stretching me wide, my pussy lips gripping him tight as he completely manhandled me, his thick arms pinning my hips, his muscular body slamming into mine. My pussy stretched around his six inches, the pressure making me feel so full, slick leaking out in messy streams down my thighs and onto the sheets, dripping in long, shiny trails as he fucked me like an animal.

“You’re mine now,” he growled, yanking my hair harder, and I screamed, “Yes, daddy, stretch me!” my pussy gushing even more, the wet sounds obscene, my slutty mind lost in the filth of being used.

“Gonna cum,” I whined, and he growled, “Cum on my cock.” I exploded, squirting hard onto the bed, soaking the sheets in a gushing mess, my pussy spasming around him.

He roared, “Fuck,” and creampied me, thick hot cum flooding my pussy, spilling out, dripping down my thighs in creamy rivers as he kept thrusting, manhandling me through it. I was shaking, cum leaking everywhere, but I wasn’t done.

I turned, pushed him back, and sucked his cock clean, tasting our mixed cum, salty and musky, swallowing every drop while my pussy still dripped his load.

He groaned, toes curling tight, legs trembling, “Eva, fuck, stop, I can’t,” but his cock twitched hard again in my mouth.

I smirked, “You want more, don’t you?” and climbed back on when he was hard once more, riding him slow, my cum-filled pussy squelching around him, girl-cum and his cum mixing in warm, messy trails down his balls. He grabbed my tits, thrusting up, and we fucked again, harder this time, my pussy dripping his cum and my slick onto the bed in fresh puddles.

I came twice more, squirting again, moaning like a whore, and he filled me a second time, cum overflowing. We collapsed, panting, my face sticky, pussy leaking, sheets ruined, room stinking of sex.

(We ended up dating and I take his cock 2-3 times a day like a good slut, hence my absence)