Up until high school, I had never had a real boyfriend. It wasn’t that I was ugly, or that I wasn’t capable, it was more so that I had way too high of expectations. I watched one too many Hallmark movies around Valentine’s Day and read one too many “Y/N” stories on Wattpad. Therefore, it was just me and my right-hand index finger.

Though I was without a man, I was familiar with the idea of masturbating—and felt no shame in doing so. I would moan a cute senior’s name as I reached climax, imagining them and me, though I wouldn't have the balls to approach them in real life.

I remember my pre-boyfriend, sixteen-year-old days: masturbating in the shower using the shower head, after school, at two in the morning when I should’ve been sleeping so that I’d be up for school four hours later. I was content and therefore never really dwelled too much on the idea of being single. It wasn’t until my friends were all losing their virginities and creating memories that my fingers couldn’t amount to, that I realized I had desperately wanted a boyfriend.

It was now the end of sophomore year, and I was single and desperate. I had options, but I was picky…thanks to Hallmark and Wattpad. My ideal boyfriend had to be tall, taller than me by a decent amount. He had to be fit, like rock hard abs fit, and had to have curly hair. Oh! And he needed to be tan of some sort especially. I loved seeing naturally tan guys.

As I took in my options, looking through my messages on Instagram and seeing what male schoolmates may have been in my DMs, I noticed a boy, named Ben, who was known as “crazy” to many at school but fit my ideal profile. “Hi,” I texted Ben back, not caring about what others said about him. I mean, what does “crazy” mean anyways?

Ben and I began talking and we didn’t hesitate to make it known in school that we were talking either. He would come up to me and hug me, walk me to class, and sit with my friends and me at the lunches we shared with one another. I was known as a relatively quiet girl, so I was surprised at myself, seeing that I didn’t freak out and act super awkward when he came around.

Ben was the start point guard on the basketball team. He wasn’t disliked, for the most part, but as I’d said, many called him “crazy,” especially girls. One day after Ben dropped me off the class, a girl moved her seat and sat with me during the “free time” we’d been given after having completed an assessment. “Hi, are you the girl talking to Ben?” the random girl greeted me.

I nodded, “yeah!” I said with excitement. Being noticed in this way felt so cool. I wasn’t a loser or anything, but people outside of my friend group didn’t pay much attention to me beforehand. However the girl’s face changed upon hearing that, “you’re a virgin, aren’t you?” she questioned me. I quickly examined the appearance of this girl. She had massive boobs and wasn’t afraid to show them. She wore a floral top with a very low v-cut. It was evident that she wasn’t wearing a bra as her nipples were semi-hard. This particular class was a mixed grade one, so I was positive that she was a senior. Her boobs didn’t tell me that, but the excessive makeup, the “beautiful” tattoo on her collarbone, and the lip ring did.

“Y-yeah,” I stammered, debating whether or not I should lie for a moment. I feared that virginity could be smelt, and I didn’t wanna embarrass myself any more than I probably already was. I was a virgin and the only real kiss I’ve ever had in my life was from my friends who needed practice for when they decide to kiss their boyfriends.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about his craziness, right?” the girl asked me, to which I slowly nodded. “Yeah, but what does that even mean?” I wondered aloud to her.

“Well, if he’s serious about you, I’m sure you’ll find out. Just brace yourself, love, it hurts. Physically, and mentally,” the girl informed me. As if the bell had been a paid actor, it went off after that sentence. Unsure of what the girl meant, I chose to pocket the conversation and keep it zipped up forever. I know all about the snobby, jealous girls that get mad about you getting the guy everybody wants. She’s probably just mad that it’s me, and not her. Right?

I started dressing super provocatively for Ben, because of two reasons. One, that girl that I’d encountered that was dressed like a total slut seemed to have experience, and two, Ben and I were stagnant. It was the same old hug, walk to class, and eat lunch together. I was over it by week five of us doing this. School would be out in a week, and I hadn’t even had my first real kiss with a boy yet! All I had to my name was a love for porn and a roaming finger.

After telling my best friend, Kasey, about my feelings towards Ben and my “frozen in time” romance, she privately confided in Ben without my knowledge. I wasn’t mad at Kasey however, because, by the time I found out, it had turned out to be a good thing. On the last day of school as we were all saying our goodbyes, Ben gripped my entire neck with his massive hand, which was twice my size, and stuck his tongue deep down my throat. He seemed to figure out that I didn’t know what I was doing, as he licked around my mouth and sucked on my still tongue.

“Let me take you to my house,” Ben whispered in my ear. I texted Kasey, unsure if I should do it, and she encouraged me to.

“It’s now or never, you never know when you’ll have this chance again. Go!” Kasey encouraged.

Ben was a junior, heading into his senior year. I was a sophomore, about to be a junior. I assumed he wasn’t a virgin, given that he was a really good kisser and what I’d been told about him that day in class. I wasn’t exactly assuming we were going to have sex anytime soon, but, just in case, I had been steadily shaving my pussy for the last month.

Ben drove a gray Camaro, and you could tell the car had been customized. The AC was on, and nineties R&B was playing. Ben rested his huge hand on my small knee throughout the entire drive. I had been wearing black biker shorts.

As we got to Ben’s house, the parking space was empty. “It’s just me and my mom here,” Ben informed me, to which I nodded in response. “Is she home?” I asked without thinking, realizing I might’ve just given Ben the notion that I wanted to fuck. “Nah,” he replied, not saying anything else. He opened the door and came around to open mine since I had spent a minute looking through my bag.

Ben’s house was a typical two-story home. His mother slept downstairs, while he slept upstairs. His room was dark blue, with posters of famous basketball stars everywhere. He had a shoe rack in the back right corner, a queen-sized bed in the middle, and a TV in the back left corner. His floor was wooden, and a jacket rack hung from the back of his door.

Ben didn’t waste any time. He ripped off his shirt, cracked his neck, and picked me up bridal style. You would’ve thought that I’d be shaking out of fear, but I wasn’t. I just didn’t know what was going on, or what to do.

Ben placed me on his bed and straddled over me. He was the perfect shade of tan, as it was really showing now that I could see his midsection. Ben managed to maneuver his hand into my shorts from the leg hole, and I braced myself. “It hurts. Physically, and mentally,” I remember the senior girl saying to me in class that day. But, it didn’t hurt, and being someone that was addicted to masturbating, I should’ve known that it wouldn’t.

“Fuck,” I let out softly as Ben kissed me in the same way that he had back at school earlier that day, while he rubbed my clit side to side incredibly fast. I began panting, gripping onto Ben’s back as I could feel the climax coming.

“Don’t cum,” Ben whispered in demand, causing me to groan. “I can’t hold it!” I whined.

“If you cum, I’m gonna have to punish you,” Ben stated. I could feel every muscle in my body tensing rather aggressively as I tried my possible best to hold it in. But with Ben’s fingers making love to my vagina, and his lips sucking in mine, it was incredibly hard. Just a minute or two after his warning, I squirted all over Ben’s hand and forearm, which I’d never done. I had always been a creamer.

A little worried about what Ben’s punishment would be, I sat up. “I’m sorry!” I squealed, but Ben pushed me right back down. He pulled down my shorts, took off my shirt, and removed his pants all while I lay still in fear. He was getting naked, so he couldn’t have been preparing to do something gruesome or bad, right? Maybe we’ll have sex, or maybe he’s just teasing. Yeah, his “punishment” is probably teasing.

Ben lifted both of my legs by the knees and pressed them against my shoulder blades. I hadn’t even known I was that flexible. “Hold them,” he demanded, to which I slowly nodded. Ben rubbed my clit for a few seconds with his thumb before he stuck it in, causing me to wince. “I’m just getting started” he informed me upon seeing my facial reaction. “You’re gonna see why girls call me crazy.”

Ben tilted my body at an awkward angle. He held me by my hips as I had been resting on my damn head at this point. He thrust in and out of me, causing me to cry out in painful bliss. He occasionally smacked my butt hard and would reach over near my face, demanding I open my mouth. Once I did open my mouth, Ben would spit in it. My head, neck, and pussy were throbbing after a good ten minutes of fast thrusts and balancing my body with my head. I didn’t wanna “tap out” and make Ben think I couldn’t handle it, so I just closed my eyes and tried to count sheep to pass time. But I couldn’t even do that, the intensity of this encounter was too much.

Ben finally placed me back down on my back, and I was the one panting as if I’d been doing all the thrusting. “Lay horizontally and open your mouth,” Ben requested. I did as was asked.

Ben shoved his dick deep in my throat, causing me to gag immediately. I never sucked dick before, obviously, and Ben’s was massive. It had so much girth that it could barely even fit in my mouth. Ben gripped the back of my ponytail, using it to push and pull closer and away from his dick. First, he’d been slow, as if he was showing mercy, and then he suddenly became forceful. Ben’s grip moved from my pony to my neck, choking me with his hands and dick at the same time.

“This is how I turn girls into sluts. I call it the Ben effect,” Ben informed me as I’d been trying my best to breathe while engulfing his big dick.

A salty, slimy substance released into my throat as Ben let out soft moans. He let go of my neck and instead placed one hand on the crown of my head, giving one, long push against it. His big, pulsating balls were sitting on my chin as he gushed cum for about a minute. Tears involuntarily ran from my eyes. Ben pulled his twitching, drenched dick out of my mouth and tapped it against my lips a few times before crouching down to meet his face with mine. “Now do you see why bitches call me crazy?”  he asked in a seductive whisper while wiping my tears away with his thumb.

Throughout the rest of high school, my idea of romance wasn’t the same. I didn’t care about flowers and chocolates, movie nights, and cuddling. I cared about big dicks and aggressive sex. I didn’t want to be loved and catered to, I wanted to be held down and fucked to no avail. Ben and I would fuck several more times before going our separate ways, but he unlocked the slut in me that I would’ve never known was there.