Unknown

Her brute master

CHAPTER ONE

"I'll miss you," I said, "but you'll be back in September."

"I'll miss you, too," Brad responded, "nobody can satisfy me the way you do." He leaned over me and started kissing my breasts again, concentrating on my nipples, trying to make them hard.

"Oh, Brad, I'm tired," I lied. I wasn't really tired, I was just getting a little bored with his love-making.

Dinner, a movie, and a night together in bed had become our routine week-end activity. When I first met Brad, he had excited me. He had a strong, take-charge attitude that I liked a lot. He didn't ask me to go out with him as much as he had told me he was taking me out.

At the end of our first date, when he kissed me good-night on the steps of my dormitory, I had resisted him, just for form's sake, really. But he wouldn't be resisted. He held my body next to his and kissed me firmly on the mouth, using his tongue in ways I had never felt before. After all, I was only a freshman and not very experienced, sexually.

Then, on our second date, he took me back to his fraternity house and made love to me. He didn't ask me, he just did it. He took my clothes off of my body as if he owned them, and me. He smiled appreciatively when he saw my thirty-eight inch, D-cup breasts. He kept on smiling when he pulled off my panties and saw that I was a natural blonde. He ran his fingers through the silky soft hairs covering my nearly-virgin pussy and I watched his pants develop that tell-tale bulge that tells a girl when she's about to get fucked.

I've always been proud of my body and it gave me a girlish thrill to see how it could excite a man. My slender waist and hips have been as much fun to flaunt as my nicely shaped boobies and Brad's unmistakable excitement was confirmation that I was developing from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman.

We made love for hours that first night together, Brad trying new ways to excite and satisfy both me and himself. I didn't object to anything he did, or asked me to do. His strong, well-muscled body was one that I had always hoped my lover would have. He took complete charge of me that night and I thought that I had found the one man that was right for me.

I soon discovered I was wrong, though. Soon Brad began becoming solicitous toward me. If I was in a bad mood, or not feeling well, he'd want to do things for me, he would act weak and start asking my permission to make love. I couldn't tell him how much that turned me off. Seeing him acting unsure of himself, as if I could grant or deny him what he wanted, made me dislike, no, despise him.

But I couldn't say anything to him about it. I've never been able to talk to men that way, not as an equal. It just has never seemed right to me. Most women, too, at least those who are older or prettier than me, always have power over me. It has always seemed that I should defer to their wishes, that I should follow their orders rather than trying to assert myself.