ℂ𝕒𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖

⚠️ You can be my first ⚠️ pt 3

Date: September 14 20XX
Location: Upper Lake Female Dorm (Swan Building) #304, London, UK
Time: 7:15 PM (BST)
POV: Cookie

     "So I'm assuming you don't have a condom or anything," I grumble, glaring up at Will. He glares back down at me, crossing his arms. 
"Well, I didn't know I was gonna be doing this," he retorts defensively, sticking his nose up in the air. It's a little weird, arguing while we're fully naked in front of each other, but for some reason, it feels completely natural. Maybe it's because I've been this guy's friend for more than a decade, but nothing feels off. Other than the fact that we're not dating and my current (?) boyfriend may want me dead.  

     "I thought it was something dudes just carried in their wallet," I say grumpily, also crossing my arms. This is what I've always believed. But maybe I watch too many romances and dramas. Now that I think about it, carrying condoms in your wallet is kind of strange. 
"I mean, I do have them in my wallet," Will replies sheepishly, refusing to meet my gaze. "But I didn't really bring my wallet with me."
"William Zymah the Third!" I exclaim, shocked at this new information about the things he keeps in the same place as his money. "Why on earth do you have condoms in your wallet?!"
Will scowls at me, gritting his teeth. "A few seconds ago you were mad at me for not having them! And anyways, Caleb gave some to me as a joke for my birthday last year. Seemed like an awful waste to throw them out, so I just shoved them in a place nobody's gonna be looking!" 

     I so desperately want to ask him why he doesn't walk around with his wallet, but I don't want to get into a whole argument with him, especially when we're not wearing anything at the moment, so I turn back to the topic at hand.
"If you get me pregnant, Zymah, I swear I'll --" He stops my words with a kiss, which lasts for a few long seconds, then breaks away again. 
"Relax, Cooks, I wouldn't do that to you," he vows, a hint of cockiness in his voice. "Trust me on this one."
Yeah right, as if you can control it, I think internally, but something about his reassurance calms me down a little bit anyhow.  "Okay, fine. I trust you," I finally reply grudgingly. He takes that as consent, and positions himself in front of me, that stupid smirk still on his face.

     Now, I've watched a shit ton of R-rated romance shows and read a lot of smutty books, but I've still got yet to experience the real thing. I would have thought all my supposed knowledge and expertise in this field would mean I'd have deduced what it'd feel like, but no amount of background studying can prepare for the actual sensation of his dick entering me. In fact, this is nothing like what I'd expected at all. 

     First of all, it hurts more than I thought it would.

    I guess Will can tell from the expression I'm making right now, which might be described as 'pained' or 'in agony' or 'owwww'. 
"Sorry," he mutters, leaning down and brushing his lips along my collarbone in an attempt to distract me from the pain down there. "Hurts, huh?"
"I-It's fine," I stammer out, trying my hardest at putting on a nonchalant air. "Just...d-different..."
"Yeah, it's different, alright," Will replies, exhaling. "But you were pretty wet already, so it's not gonna hurt for much longer...I'm guessing."
He doesn't seem to be feeling any pain. In fact, he seems elated. It's not fair. I want him to suffer too if I'm suffering. 

     But pretty soon, that suffering turns into just pure pleasure as he starts to move. And before I can stop it, soft moans and whimpers are escaping my lips, matching the pace of his thrusts. His breathing is heavy too, and he grits his teeth to keep himself from making noise as well. I should probably be quiet too; I have a feeling the dorms aren't too soundproof. But it's so hard to be quiet. It just feels so good. I've never felt this good in my whole fucking life. The bed frame  creaks slightly with every thrust. Instinctively, I reach out under me and clutch at the sheets, my other hand clutched around his forearm.