Camille had had worse ideas than getting wildly drunk with Mark at Katie's house party that night, but she had never actually acted on any of them.
But she was mad at her boyfriend and Mark had that smirk that always invited trouble and some kid she barely knew was supplying this party with really good cocktails, so here she was, the room spinning around her and a strange euphoria in her chest and a laugh that just wouldn't leave her throat as she sprawled on the game room's couch.
Mark was slumped against her side, arm draped over her shoulders and his alcohol breath puffing down the low neck of her blouse. He had been murmuring throatily in her ear, but then he had gotten distracted by nibbling it, and then sucking on it, and the heavy pulse in Camille's abdomen didn't want him to stop.
It was so hard to get her boyfriend to get into foreplay before his dick went in—she lowkey suspected it was because her pussy was tighter like that, but he would never admit it, and she had stopped holding with that nonsense—but right now, she bet her ride would be smooth as butter.
...If she didn't have to whine at him to put on a condom first while he complained at her for insisting on it.
That was why she was mad at him now. She had been all down and ready to go and then he had refused to put the damn thing on, and after a long argument, he had quietly slunk away from the party while she vented to Mark and drank three people's worth of alcohol.
"Is it... is it really that—hic!—good?" she wondered aloud. Mark moved down her neck, and she kept putting off pushing him away. "It's not safe. You'll get... You'll get pregnant if you try that. You'll get really pregnant. And probably like... STDs. And pregnant. Really pregnant. And getting really pregnant makes you fat."
Then she moaned, because Mark had started applying teeth to the crook of her neck.
He patted her flat-not-fat belly with his free hand and pulled off her neck with a sucking noise. "Doing it without a condom?"
"Yeah. He keeps saying 'just once'. Once is all it takes for—for you to get really pregnant."
"Who gets pregnant just doing it once?" Mark snorted, then gave her neck a big lick and suck. He patted her belly. "Of course all guys wanna do it raw. You can't feel shit with a condom."
Camille's boyfriend sure creamed quick enough for someone who 'couldn't feel shit', she thought acidly.
Mark snorted again, and belatedly she realized she'd said it out loud. "Your boyfriend's a loser."
Normally she'd argue for his honor, but right now she didn't feel like it. She just wished she had another cocktail.
Mark shot her a sly smirk. "Bet I could last longer than him even without one."
Knowing Mark, he probably could, Camille privately acknowledged. She didn't have any particularly logical reasons why she knew that, but it made sense to her alcohol-addled mind. "Yeah, yeah..."
"I could!" That devilish look hadn't budged a bit, and if she'd been thinking straight, she'd know that she was about to do something whether she wanted to or not.
She rolled her eyes.
"I can prove it."
No immediate retort jumped to her lips, because the hand on her belly slid down until it pressed into the cleft of her pussy through her denim bootyshorts, putting pressure on her swollen clit, and she was too busy throbbing in pleasure to do anything else.
It took her a minute of slow circles to string together, "No... no naked dicks in my pussy. And that's... ohhhhhh... fin-... ah-ah-al."
Mark sighed enormously. His fingers didn't stop. "No dicks in your pussy. Got it."
Camille whined loud enough to press against her own ear drums. "Nooooo...!"
"No?" he echoed. The finger that had been rubbing her clit slid behind it, pushing against the place her boyfriend's dick had gone in so many times. What she wouldn't do to have something in there right now... "That's what you said. No dicks in your pussy."
"Not what I said," she protested, and spread her legs further. "I said... I said..."
She couldn't remember what she said.
Mark popped the button and pull down the zip, and then dived into her panties. one finger rested teasingly against her entrance, while another nudged at her bare clit. "Then what did you say?"
Through the haze of lust, she managed, "Con-... con-... -doms..."
"Don't got none of those," he replied breezily. The fingers pushed in microscopically further. "So I guess you really don't want me to prove my dick stamina's better than your loser-ass boyfriend."
"I doooooo..." Camille moaned. "I want dick. I just—I just—"
He waited. She was distantly aware of the hooked smirk on his mouth that said he knew he had her.
"I jus' don't want babies."
"Who gets pregnant their first time doing it raw?" he said, derisive, and instead of making her clam back up, she found it a deeply persuasive argument.
"Fine," she grumbled, then spread her legs as wide as they would go. "Prove it. Just-just pull out..." It wasn't exactly great prevention, but it was better than nothing.
"Yeah, yeah..."
She was pushed to lie back on the couch, her legs hatefully pinned back together so her shorts and panties could come off, and then there was that deliciously promising zip of guy jeans, and—
He had her hold her legs up to her chest, spread apart so her pussy was wide open, and then his naked dick was poised above her.
It was shorter than her boyfriend's, but notably thicker—not that it would matter much, she thought as it descended; a dick was a di—
The thought cut off, a borderline yowl leaving her throat as her eyes rolled back in her head, her aching pussy absolutely stuffed with one smooth thrust.
Mark groaned somewhere above her, but she was too busy hiccuping whimpers to care. At the tail end of his groan, she helplessly watched him pull out and then plunge back into her body again, skin slick-shiny from bare base to bare tip.
Apparently, dicks could be very different, she thought dazedly as she gagged on air. She didn't know how it fit inside so much better, but every thrust brought a new wave of pleasure, the shock of his balls slapping her ass jolting arousal through her without the mood-killing shock of pain she had come to expect.
Without her noticing, her lusty wails turned into a long steam of, "Oh, yes! Yes! Ye-e-es! Oh, god, yes! Ohhhh, fuck yes—oh-yes-oh-ohhhhh yes—yes! Yes!" with half landing in guttural groans and half landing in ecstatic shouts as she watched Mark's ungloved dick piston in and out of her pussy.
Her legs twitched and shook wildly when she came, words turning into a choked up yodeling yell bouncing off the walls of the empty room.
Mark grunted a soft, "Fuck," and pounded harder.
Her legs slipped from her hands in the aftershocks, dropping down to sprawl on either side of his hips—and Camille's whining pants turned into a long, low moan.
The first angle had left everything feeling tight and friction-y and obscene, but this angle felt so deep she could taste it on the back of her tongue. He collapsed on top of her, thrusts getting shallower but so much more powerful that it was no time at all before a deep, slow, inexorable orgasm crashed over her like a throbbing tide.
Camille, who was used to having sex where her own orgasm was a rare and pleasant surprise, simply laid there in shock.
Mark's hips crashed into hers a few more times, then slowed down, then pushed his dick inside balls-deep and left it there while he panted.
"So," he croaked as they both caught their breath. "How—how'd that measure up to your stupid loser boyfriend."
"Who?" Camille rasped, head stunningly empty.
Mark grunted smugly, then slid his hands up her shirt to properly grope her tits. "And I'm not even done yet."
It only occurred to her after she staggered home why she had asked him to pull out, and by then there was a pool of cum in her underwear because he hadn't the first time, second time, or any of the times after that.
By morning, it was all a messy, hungover haze, and all she could remember was getting the best dick of her life.
She buried her panic about it (who got pregnant the first time they did it raw?), invited her boyfriend home to meet her parents and let him fuck her in her bed (with condom) (it didn't even remotely compare to Mark), and got in a blowout fight that resulted in her breaking up with him with her pants still down.
Then she missed her next period, and after she missed the one after that, she cornered Mark with a little pink plus sign that said she was about to show the whole world just how badly they had messed up.
"Who gets someone pregnant their first time doing it raw?" she hissed at him behind the science building.
He gave the damning stick a speculative look. "Are we keeping it or sneaking into Planned Parenthood together?"
"How can you be so—" she hissed, only to be cut off by his mouth.
By the time the kiss broke, her skirt was hiked up to her hips and her even more sensitive nipples were pulsing in pleasure as he fondled them.
"This... this isn't... the time..." she tried weakly, then desperately tried to keep quiet when the hard ridge of his cock rubbed the front of her panties. She hadn't had sex in a month and a half and she'd only been getting hornier by the day.
"When else? You can't get pregnant twice," he pointed out into the hollow below her ear, sounding so entirely reasonable about it she couldn't find an objection when she heard his pants unzip. "Been trying to figure out how to make it happen again since you broke up with that asshole. Fuck, that was best night of my life."
She wanted to have the mind to object, but her panties were shoved to the side and that wonderful dick was making stars swim in her eyes, and she was helpless to the tides.
Three years and one long, hard, incredibly horny pregnancy later, Camille had a good boyfriend, a wonderful baby girl, and a trusty IUD that she was watching a doctor fish out of her pussy.
Hopefully Mark wouldn't mind. She had plans for their sex life, and where they were going, neither protection nor pulling out were welcome.