Hazing is a tried and true tradition. I should have known they’d push my boundaries, making me discover things about myself that I never would have dreamed possible.
The first time the sorority had us pledges bared and exposed was a shock. The second time was exciting. The third was addicting. The fourth will change me forever.
I’ve discovered a new side of myself through this. A new persona hidden deep inside of me, one with a hunger to be seen.
This girl inside of me is rough and wild. She loves being the center of attention and she loves pushing the boundaries. In front of friends and strangers. In front of anyone and everyone.
She needs to show off.
Excerpt
Striding across the room I made my way over to him and held my hand out for him. He took it and shook it lightly, but I was stunned by the implied power in his firm grip.
“I’m Firecracker,” I told him.
“Yes you are,” he replied.
Then my man swept me up into his arms and I felt his hand on the small of my back and on my hand. I felt him holding me tight to him, felt my perky breasts pressed against the firmness of his chest.
“I’ve been wanting you for weeks,” he told me, “Since that spanking on campus.”
Realization washed over me, a comforting warmth as the pieces fell into place.
“You,” I said astonished, “You’re the one who touched me.”
He smiled a smile that was wicked and naughty. I smiled the same.
Then I grabbed his shirt and pulled his mouth to mine. I pressed my lips against his and pressed my tongue into his mouth and felt him tense and build against me. His body growing firmer in every single way.
For the moment we were alone in the kitchen but we both knew the circumstances of parties meant that we would not be alone for long. My man took the lead, pulling me with him into a pantry off to one side and flicking on the light so we wouldn’t have to work in darkness.
Weeks of pent up need boiled over. My hands running up and down his muscular form and stripping him of all of the clothes that were essential to our purpose.
Pants and underwear around his ankles, a brief moments respite to admire the firm ridges of his abdomen before I let him spin me around and pin me against the shelves on the wall.
He pressed into me, one hand on my hip and the other spreading my cheeks to give him access to my dripping and wanton sex. There was no subtlety in the way that he fucked me. It was pure and aggressive animalistic passion. It was need writ large, pounding into me and filling me up.
Sex was not something that I was terribly experienced at but even I could tell this was better than usual, a desperation that came from need long built up. Desperation to be with each other in so many ways.
My own prince charming, but dark and twisted.
I got off on the grunts and the feel of his breath on the back of my neck. I got off on the fact that he didn’t even know my name. That he only knew me as an object to be desired. That to him, I might as well just be that, an object.
But I didn’t need any more than that from him. I was content to be used and to use him in turn. We both were getting the same thing out of this encounter: pleasure, plain and simple.
And I was getting so much pleasure, pounding in my veins and between my legs, building to a crescendo I couldn’t ignore or deny. A powerful climax that I’d never seen before, never felt before.
I could barely hold on, biting my lip and trying to keep from letting it consume me. I knew that he was close to, it was obvious from the way he was fucking me, the way his hands were running up and down my body and pinching and squeezing all of my most sensitive places.
He couldn’t help it any more than I could, and I could barely help it at all.