First time_(15)

Hi. My name is Jessica. In high school, I was a normal, regular girl; I was about five-foot-seven with a toned body, shoulder-length auburn hair, light white skin, c-cup breasts, and a plump, round, ass. I’m not trying to brag about my attractiveness, because there is something about me that makes me completely sexually undesirable to guys: I’ve got a five-inch penis.

Because of this “deformity,” I never dated in high school, never had a boyfriend, never even kissed a guy. I did have a few friends in high school, but none of them knew about my penis. They just assumed I was weird or shy for never wanting to date anyone. So, instead of focusing my energy on that, I spent my time jogging or going to the gym. I never wanted to get buffed up like those bodybuilding women; I wanted to keep myself as physically attractive to guys. I dont know why, given my predicament. I guess I was hoping to be so attractive to guys that when I found the right one, he would be able to overlook this abnormality. It wasnt until I was a sophomore in college that I finally had my first kiss and first sexual encounter.


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It was late August, and my sophomore year in college had just begun. My roommate this year was the same as last year, a girl named Stevie Page. During our first year, we became really close friends, almost close enough that I had even though of letting her in on my secret anatomy, but always decided against it.

She was a little taller than me, almost six-feet tall, tan skin with long brown hair, slender but not as toned as me, small breasts which were barely more than handfuls, and not much of an ass. She might not fit Victoria’s Secret’s definition of a supermodel, but I thought she was still attractive. She was shy about her body as I was, and didnt like wearing form-fitting clothing, usually settling for t-shirts and slightly loose jeans, despite my insistence that wearing something more figure-flattering would help her with the guys.

Our dorm was a normal dorm, I guess. We had a twin bed each on each side of the room, a dresser and night table by each bed, and one closet next to the bathroom door. Also, our dorm was on the fourth floor of a four-floor dormitory, which gave us a great birds-eye view of the parking lot and the building in which the radio, tv, and journalism classes were taught.

One August evening, I returned from a jog around the campus, which is a routine I started the year before. I unlocked the door and entered the dorm, hoping to be alone so I could shower and change out of my sweaty, tight t-shirt, white sports bra, and loose-fitting mens gym shorts. To my dismay, the shower was already running; Stevie was showering.

To pass the time, I opened my top drawer, pulled out an mp3 player hidden under a stack of denim pants, and started untangling the earbuds that I knew I neatly wrapped around it the night before. After a minute of detangling, I raised the earbuds to my ear, but stopped as I heard a voice from the bathroom. I couldnt make it out, but I recognized it as Stevie’s. I silently stepped to the door and put my ear to it and listened. I heard moaning interrupted by the occasional “yes!” and “God!” Finally a few moments after hearing what sounded like “Oh, God! Oh God!” the water turned off.