I Hate Her! Ch. 01

I hated her almost immediately. She was such a jerk, and she was entirely too cocky. So how had I ended up in her bed, on my back, screaming her name? It's a bit of a story.

*

I walked into Boden Hall, ready to begin a new semester. I was excited about my Junior year, and couldn't wait for the semester to get underway. I got up to my room, unpacked my things, and my roommate and I left to go to lunch. I would be rooming with my best friend Tasha this year, and things were going to be great. The year was full of promise, and I intended to take full advantage.

Tasha and I got back to the dorm so that we could go to a floor meeting. It was one of those "getting to know you" type things were everyone introduces themselves and whatnot. It wasn't a highlight, but I wanted to know who would be living on our floor, so we went.

The whole time during the meeting, there was a girl staring at me. It wasn't just any stare. It was one of those "I could sop you up with a biscuit" stares. I tried to ignore her, but couldn't because I could feel her eyes on me from across the room. I looked at Tasha, who had noticed my "admirer" and was a little shocked by her brazenness. Then came the time for all of us to introduce ourselves. Her turn came up and she stood, still looking at me.

"My name is Daphne, but people call me Dee." she said. "I'm a Senior majoring in Journalism..."

She said some other stuff about herself, but I wasn't really listening to what she was saying because I was so taken aback by her audacity. She sat down, still looking straight at me. I couldn't believe it. She didn't seem to care that staring at people wasn't the polite thing to do. All the girls had noticed her staring straight at me, and I could hear a few giggles.

She'd look away every now and again, but not for long, because I'd still catch her watching me with that devious look on her face. I could tell right away that she was going to be a girl that I'd have nothing to do with. It wasn't that I disliked her orientation; I'm sure she'd noticed the rainbow bracelet on my wrist. As a matter of fact, that may have encouraged her. It wasn't that I didn't think she was attractive. She was indeed my type with her pretty face and boyish charm. I loved the way she wore her baggy jeans and oversized shirt. It wasn't even that I was bothered by her staring; I thought it was a bit flattering...at first. I could just tell from the beginning that she was someone who thought they could have whatever - and whoever - they wanted. I wasn't going to give in. I couldn't deal with a woman like that. So I'd decided that I would give Miss Dee no play.

The meeting let out, and I saw her attempting to make a move in my direction. I quickly shot her a look that said "don't follow me" and turned to walk to my room. Tasha and I got into our room, and she immediately started yapping about her.

"Oh my goodness, James! She was staring you down!" she said, smiling broadly

"Ugh! I know. I was about to slap her ass." I said, my disgust apparent

"What? She was cute! And she obviously thinks you are too," I knew Tasha would like this chick, figures.

"Yeah, whatever. I know her type. She thinks I'm gonna get on my back for her because she snaps her fingers. Those cocky chicks get on my last nerve."

"Well. I bet she's not that bad. Just give her a chance."

"I've made up my mind. 'Dee' gets none of 'me'." I said, walking out of the door. Tasha and I were going to go to another friend's room to hang out a bit.

Just as we were walking out of the room, I'll give you one guess who was walking by...you guessed it - Dee. She looked me in the eyes and said on sentence. With that sentence, she cemented my distaste for her.

"I'm gonna make you mine." she said, looking me up and down.

I just looked at her in disbelief. No one could be that piggish! She was definitely someone I would try to steer clear of. And I did, for about two months. I'd see her on the hall, and just keep going. I wouldn't speak, nod, wave, or even acknowledge her. I just didn't have the patience to listen to another one of her remarks. So, I avoided her.

As my stupid luck would have it, she was in one of my classes. It was a women's studies class, and I was really looking forward to it. I decided that I wouldn't worry about her being there. She hadn't really made a move, and I was pretty sure that her previous antics were more a way for her to get my attention than anything else. So, I decided to enjoy the class.

Soon into the class, she asserted herself as someone with definite opinions. She regularly participated in the debates of the class, and many of her points were quite valid. And for the most part I agreed with what she said. The girl that I saw in class was much better than the girl I first met.

"Hmm. Maybe she isn't that bad." I thought to myself.

But one day in class (about two months into class) we were talking about the affect the media had on women's self-esteem. I had agreed with her often before, but not this time. I had to say something.

"I think that women often give the media a lot of ammo. They allow themselves to be fooled by what they see in magazines and on TV. If they were to just stop following the norm, the media would have no choice but to change it's approach." she said.

I didn't agree.

"But you have to take into consideration that many women are looking for the approval of the men they date. Men in America are told that thin is in, and that a woman needs to be a size 2 to be sexy. Even our young boys know that a woman with big breast and a small waist are seen as more appealing. So the question is: do we do what the media says, or be looked over and called ugly? And even those that don't want male approval want to feel pretty. How can she feel pretty when she's the opposite of what pretty seems to be defined as in our society?" I said.

"I'm not saying that you can't want to be pretty. I'm not saying that being thin is disgusting. I'm just saying that we shouldn't base our entire self image on it. There are young girls everywhere vomiting up meals just to fit into a pair of jeans! The media paints an unhealthy image of beauty, and it's costing our girls greatly." she turned to look at me then.

"I don't in any way condone that type of weight loss method. I agree that too many of our young girls feel the need to starve themselves to go down a size. All I'm saying is that they almost can't be blamed for thinking that way. It's rammed down their throats that being wafer thin is the only way to be. Almost every woman feels some insecurity about the way she looks. The media feeds on that." I said.

Somehow, debating with her like this, going toe to toe, point for point was turning me on. Her vehemence about what she was saying was sexy as hell. I thought for a second about how angry sex with her would feel. Would it be rough? Animalistic? I bet she would be really forceful in bed, just the way I liked it.

"I don't. I don't feel insecure about my body..." She said, shaking me out of my little fantasy.

I thought to myself 'you have no reason to; you're about the finest thing I've seen in a while!' But, of course, I didn't say that to her. I shook it out of my mind and kept up the debate.

"But you're not the average woman." I said. And that was apparent by the boots on her feet and the baggy jeans on her legs. She was not America's standard woman. "I'm talking about the girl that reads Seventeen magazine and has a crush on the quarterback at her high school. She's the one that's being hurt. She's the one that thinks the only way he'll notice her is to go down a size and show more skin."

"I know that. I'm just saying that..." we had both begun to raise our voices, and the debate was turning into more of an argument. Our professor interrupted her and changed the subject.

She continued to look at me for a moment before turning away. That grin from the first time I'd seen her was back. But this time, I wasn't quite so disgusted. In fact, I was a little intrigued. I was surprised at myself. Why was I thinking about what sex with her would be like? Why was I smiling a little when she looked over at me? Was she wearing on me? I pushed the thought out of my mind.

*

Class let out, and I was on my way out of the room when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see her, minus the little grin.

"I hope I didn't offend you or anything. I was saying that some people put too much emphasis on what other people think. I didn't really mean you personally or anything." She looked a little sheepish. It was a welcome change.

"Oh, no. I know what you meant. I kinda agree. I was just saying that you can't really blame people for wanting to be accepted." I said.

It was then that I noticed how truly pretty she really was. Her face was beautiful, and that beauty contrasted with her masculinity was a damn good combination. Her eyes were such a strange color, almost like a deep maroon. I looked at her mouth as she talked and watched her lips move. They looked so soft. I thought about what it would be like to kiss her, probably like falling into a sea of pillows. But I caught myself and paid attention to what she was saying.

"And I wasn't saying that you look bad or anything. You're beautiful." she said, looking down a bit.

"Thank you." I said, thinking that maybe - just maybe - I could at least be her friend.

"Umm...you wanna get some coffee or something?" she said, her voice low, her face so adorable.

"Oh, sorry. I can't; gotta get to my next class." I said, cursing Econ, "Can I get a rain check?"

"Of course." she said, and I thought I saw that grin inching back onto her face. We said our goodbyes and went our own ways.

*

That rain check came the very next class. She walked up to me after class and asked me again. My next class was canceled that day, so I accepted. We got to the nearest coffee shop, and she was a totally different girl.

"So, tell me about yourself, Jamie. You seem like a girl I'd love to get to know." she said.

"Not much to tell...I'm an Education major. This is my junior year. I'm from a small town about three hours from here...I have a dog named Mingus...I don't know; I'm not that interesting. Tell me about you."

"Well, lets see....I'm a senior, a Journalism major, I work in the bookstore, and I will be graduating in the spring." she said.

"So, what made you want to go into Journalism?" I asked.

"Well, ever since I was little, I loved writing. I love the idea that stories can take you to so many places, without you going anywhere. I always wanted to be the one taking people to those places. I've got a novella in the works, and I hope to get it published." she said. I was impressed. "How about you? What made you want to go into Education?"

"I just always loved kids. I love to teach. I think that teaching children is one of the most fulfilling things you can do. To see their little faces light up when they learn something new...it's wonderful."

"That's sweet. See, I knew you were interesting." She said.

We talked about each other and I found out that she was so much more than the hard front she put up. She was a great girl, and I could toy with the idea of maybe going out on a date with her.

We walked back to our dorm and talked a little more. Then, we got off of the elevator, and said our goodbyes. I went my way, she went hers. I got to my room and it was empty, I was glad. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. I thought about how I felt about Dee now that I had broken through that hard shell to her soft center. I thought about what my new feelings meant. I decided that she wasn't so bad afterall, and that I should try to really get to know her.

*

For the next few weeks, we'd go and get coffee at least once a week. I was beginning to like her a lot. I'd have to catch myself so that I wouldn't smile too big when she walked into the room. I came to recognize the smell of her and loved to just breathe her in. I told myself that we were friends, and nothing but that. But, I knew that had she made a move, I wouldn't have stopped her. I even wished that she would. I could feel the sexual tension building between us every time we saw each other. It got to the point that I wanted to kiss her almost every time I was near her. But I was afraid to actually act on my feelings.

Every now and again, she'd get back to that cocky thing she did, and I'd feel a little disgusted. I hated that phony bravado foolishness, especially since I knew that she was so much more. But other than that, I could talk to her all day. It was a wonder we didn't spend every moment together. We'd just meet up at class, go for coffee, and go our separate ways. It wasn't until about a month of our little "dates" that things came to a head.

*

My friend Monica was turning 21, and it was a big deal. She was the "baby" of our group and the last to reach legal age, so we threw her a big party. It was a campus wide thing, and it was pretty much open to the public. We charged a fee at the door and gave it to her as a gift. We had a Jamaican themed party for her, since she was from Jamaica. We played music from Jamaican artists the whole night. It was wonderful and I was having a great time. There was this cute girl working the bar, and I'd done a little flirting. All of my friends were there to wish Monica a happy birthday, and we were all dancing with each other. Then, I saw Dee on the dance floor. She looked up and saw me and motioned for me to come over. I quietly broke off from my friends and made my way to her.

When I reached her, she was smiling. "Wanna dance?" she shouted over the music. It was Bob Marley's "Stand Up for Your Rights." She took my hand and we began dancing. She was a good dancer. She bobbed to the Reggae beat, spinning me around a bit. We were smiling and laughing with (and at) each other. I turned around, and she grabbed my hips, holding my in place. We danced like that for a little, then a slow song came on. It was "In Love With You" by Erykah Badu and Stephan Marley. It was a smooth song, perfect for slow dancing. Her hands held me close as her hips swayed to the music. I could feel every move she made. I could feel her heartbeat against my back, her breath on my neck. We moved to the rhythm, in perfect rhythm.

She leaned into me and breathed in. "You smell delicious." she said. Then, she kissed my neck. "You taste good, too." I loved her voice so close to my ear.

Her hands moved away from my hips and ran along my waist, coming dangerously close to my breasts. She was breathing into my neck, and I could smell her cologne. I could feel her lips against my earlobe and her lashes on my cheek. My breath was coming in gasps as I struggled to maintain my composure.

I wrapped my arm around her neck and pulled her closer into me. I was so wrapped up in her. I just wanted to do whatever I could to get her closer to me. I ground my hips into hers and felt something...stiff. I gasped at my new discovery, and could feel her smile against my neck. We danced for a moment longer. Her hands were roaming, and I sighed at the feel of them.

"You wanna go?" she said into my ear. I knew what she was really asking.

I bit my lip and nodded because that was all I had the strength to do. For a second, I thought about saying no. But when she accented her question with a bite on my ear, that flew out of my mind.

"Let's go, baby." she said, her voice was so husky.

She grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the building. I saw Tasha on my way out, and ignored the look of surprise on her face. I gave Monica a hug and wished her a happy birthday one last time, told my friends bye, then we were out of the door.

The campus was about five minutes away from the club, and we made it to Boden hall in no time. We rode up the elevator in silence because there was another girl in the elevator with us. I'm sure that if we were alone, we wouldn't have made it to her room. As soon as we got into her room, we were ripping things off of one another.

"Is your roommate coming home soon?" I asked, out of breath while I unbuttoned her shirt

"She's gone for the weekend." She breathed into me

"Good." I said.

"I can have you all to myself." she smiled before kissing me again.

I wanted her naked immediately. It was like how you ripped open your presents on Christmas morning when you were a kid. I couldn't get her clothes off quick enough. And when I did, she looked good, damn good. I looked at her up and down. She was a sight to be seen. Her breasts were beautiful: C cups with beautiful chocolate brown nipples. Her waist came in nicely and gave way to curved hips. Her stomach abs were defined, but not rock hard; just the way I like them. Her stance was one of anticipation, her expression one of want. I loved the contrast of her femininity and her masculinity. It was gorgeous. I looked at her standing there, with her harness around her waist, her dildo bobbing between her legs. I wanted to tackle her. We paused for a second, looking each other over. Then we flung ourselves at each other.

The truth was, I'd thought she was sexy the moment I saw her, but my pride wouldn't let me admit it. I wanted her from the beginning, but I'd denied it. Now, standing in her room with her tongue in my ear, I allowed myself to want her. I allowed myself to need her, to whisper her name. She backed me up onto a desk in her room, and pushed everything off of it so that I could lean back onto it. I kissed her hard and pulled her to me.

"You ready?" she asked.

I didn't know what she was talking about at first, but then she placed the head of her strapon between my legs. I knew then what she was talking about. I just smiled and pulled her into me. She smiled and pushed in.

"Ohhhh..." I moaned. Why had I denied her for so long? Why hadn't I admitted my feelings for her before? I had wasted so much time!

She started slowly, kissing me deeply as she did. I rubbed my hands across her back as she held my hips. I began to slip off of the desk, but I didn't want to stop to catch my balance. I just wanted to keep feeling what she was doing uninterrupted. She felt me slipping, and wrapped her hands under my hips. She picked me up and carried me over to the bed. I loved being in her arms.

She laid me on the bed so gently. She smiled at me as she leaned down to kiss me. She pushed deeper into me and I couldn't help but cry out. I had tried to be quiet, seeing as how we lived in a dorm, but it just felt too good.

Soon, we were both panting and moaning, our bodies covered with a sheen of sweat. I ran my hands through her hair, pulling it out of the ponytail she'd had it in. She sped up the pace, holding my shoulders as she slammed into me.

"Like that...just like that...oh God." I said, "Kiss me."

"Mmm...you...are...so...wonderful..." she said between kisses.

She grabbed my leg and put it over her shoulder. I wrapped the other one around her. We both had a handful of hair. My nails were in digging into her waist, needing something to hold on to. She was kissing my neck and collarbone, her breast bounced against mine. She had me going crazy. I was in ecstasy: lip biting, sheet grabbing, toe curling, name screaming ecstasy. It all felt so good, I think I may have bitten her a couple times.

"Right there, baby. I'm so close, Dee!" I said. I was in paradise. She was blowing my mind.

"Cum for me baby. Cum with me." she said, and hearing that pushed me over. It was like I'd exploded. I couldn't remember coming so hard, but I would later.

She grunted and pushed into me on last time before slumping onto me, dropping my leg. We lay there, basking in our climax. She feathered my shoulder with light kisses, moving her hips ever so slightly, sending little jolts of electricity through me each time.