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My stories are based on personal experiences and are as close to accurate to what actually happened as I can remember, and I have a pretty good memory (even many years later).
Nobody in this story (that had sex) was underage.
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Chapter 8 — Carmen
After leaving California, I got to Provo, Utah a few days before New Year’s Day. My first priority was to find an apartment close to BYU. My second priority was to get registered at the university. Let’s just say that not everything went according to plan. Finding an apartment wasn’t too difficult, but finding the right apartment mid-year was a bit harder. I was sleeping in a friend’s living room while I looked, and while that may sound like a good thing, I wasn’t used to college life in apartments. People were coming over all the time, and sleep was a rare commodity, since I couldn’t set up my bed until everybody left in the evening.
I kept searching, though, and I finally found a good apartment. Most apartments around the university had two or three guys sleeping in each room. I really wasn’t interested in that, and I was delighted when I found a room above a garage, where I would have the apartment all to myself. I had a small kitchen area, a private bath, a queen-sized bed (they normally rented to married couples), and my own private entrance where I could come and go as I pleased (that was the best part). I even had my own parking in the driveway.
The apartment was just a little more than I had wanted to spend, but was still well within my budget. An interesting feature was that the owners had eight girls living in the main house that the garage was beside (it was actually a detached garage). The girls lived two to each bedroom, and they shared the kitchen and bathroom (I’m sure that was chaos in the mornings).
Since BYU is a Mormon university, most of the students were also Mormons. Therefore, they had their own ways of keeping track of all of the students. Even though I was not a Mormon, I was expected to belong to a student “family” made up of a “father” and “mother” (two seniors who had been appointed by the church to head up the “family” as well as several boys and several girls who assumed the role of the kids. Every Monday, the “family” would meet in the house next to my garage apartment for informal activities.
As I was unpacking my stuff in my apartment, there was a knock on the door. A guy and a girl were standing there when I opened it. They had a plate of cookies, and they said they were there to welcome me to the family. Since I had no idea what they were talking about, I invited them in and they explained things to me.
They were surprised that I was a Catholic, but after I showed them my acceptance letter from BYU, they settled down and told me a lot about university life and life in the family. Guy (the father) asked me to participate, and I agreed provided I wouldn’t be asked to pray. I had been around Mormons enough to know they did things differently than I was used to.
He agreed. We talked for a while longer, and they explained that all of the girls in the house next door were in the family, along with six boys from an apartment building around the corner. Gina (the mother) said that members of a family usually didn’t date, so I should look elsewhere for girls. Gina lived in the house next door. When pressed, though, she admitted that there was no hard and fast rule about this, but if I did date a girl from the house next door, I should be discreet.
My second task was to register for school. This was where things fell apart a bit. Yes, I had been accepted to the university, but they had already completed registration for the new semester and wouldn’t accept late registration (which was interesting since classes were starting the next day). The soonest I could attend classes would be in six weeks (mid-February). That was a hard pill to swallow, but I should have checked on it earlier, so it was my own fault. I would just have to find something else to do for the next six weeks. I did get signed up for some mid-term accelerated classes for when they would allow me to attend class.
I was a rock climber, so I asked around about places to climb (BYU is right up against the mountains, so I knew there had to be some good spots nearby). Sure enough, there was a great climbing area, with short climbs and bouldering problems near the mouth or Rock Canyon, not far from the university. I went up to the canyon, scouted around, identified several possible routes in the quartzite slabs and several challenging bouldering problems as well. Little Cottonwood canyon had some good granite, so that was also a possibility (although it was further away).
I met some local climbers on my first scouting trip up Rock Canyon, and I spent a lot of time during the next six weeks climbing and bouldering (most of it in Rock Canyon) with local climbing partners. Also, since I knew how to self-belay with ascenders, I would often set up top ropes Anadolu Yakası Escort and do climbing problems solo (with no fear of falling).
I took walks on and off campus pretty much every day. Doing this, I met a lot of girls during my first few weeks at BYU, some on-campus and some off-campus. Nobody seemed to mind that I wasn’t going to classes yet (since I had been accepted by the university, the other students saw me as a student as well), and I had several dates where I took girls (who said they wanted to learn how to climb) up to Rock Canyon. In reality, most of them were just looking for a husband. It was a joke that there were more girls at BYU pursuing an MRS. Degree than any other kind of degree. That wasn’t all bad though. It meant there were a lot of girls looking for a man.
While some girls were only looking for a return Mormon missionary to marry, others weren’t nearly so picky. Several that I met saw me as an opportunity to live on the wild side a bit. Others just saw me as a potential Mormon convert. Since I had a private apartment with a private entrance (that couldn’t be seen from the house), that meant that girls I met sometimes felt free to visit me at my apartment.
I actually met Carmen the first time I went to the house next door for the Monday “family home evening.” She was one of the eight girls living in the house, and was supposedly one of my “sisters.” Carmen was a freshman from Monterrey, Mexico, and she had the Mexican look (black hair, dark brown eyes and a deep tan). She had a good body (though a little on the stocky side) and a cute face, but she was shorter than most female BYU students I met.
It turned out that Carmen was another oddity at BYU. Though she was a Mormon, she had been raised a Catholic, and had just joined the Mormon Church because her parents had a couple of years before. She wasn’t totally sold on the Mormon teachings, and she sometimes felt like an outsider at the university because she didn’t know everything about the Mormon Church.
Carmen hadn’t had a date since she had arrived in the fall, and she was getting desperate. When we were alone in the kitchen getting some refreshments for the “family” members, I asked her if she would like to go to Rock Canyon with me to do some climbing and bouldering. She looked up at me and said, “I know nothing about climbing, but yes, I would go with you. When?” We discussed schedules really quick, and I found that she had no classes the next day (Tuesday). I told her to just come to my apartment when she was ready to go.
Mid-morning on Tuesday, there was a knock on my door. There was Carmen, standing there shivering. I hadn’t realized that it was going to be so cold that day when I invited her to go bouldering.
I invited her inside, had her remove her coat and shoes, and we stood next to my bed (I really didn’t have a lot of places to sit in my apartment). I asked her if she really wanted to go climbing on such a cold day. She smiled. “I really just wanted to spend time with you. My heart raced when I met you.”
“I think you are pretty cute too,” I replied. I asked if she would like to just stay in and talk, and she loved that idea. Since I already had her take off her coat and her shoes, we could easily get on the bed together. She hesitated a bit, but then she must have decided that it was OK, because she scooted up on the bed next to me.
We talked for a couple of hours. Carmen was a home economics major, something that I was totally unfamiliar with, but she said it was mostly to train her to be a good wife and mother. I thought that was a little strange, but she said it was the most popular degree (other than Mrs.) for girls at BYU. She was fascinated by my story, and how I had ended up at BYU. “I know there are non-Mormons here at BYU, but I don’t think there are many. I’ll bet they send the missionaries to try to convert you,” she said.
I laughed. “They can try, I suppose. I have a fairly open mind, but from what I have seen in my life, I have a hard time with belonging to any religion.”
“Aren’t you a Catholic?” she asked.
I was raised Catholic, but I had a bit of a falling out with the Church when I was in the Air Force,” I replied. We talked until it was almost lunch time. I asked if she needed to go, but she said she would rather stay with me. I said, “I can make us a couple of sandwiches, if you would like.”
“OK,” she replied, and I went to my kitchen to throw together a couple of tuna salad sandwiches on toast. She seemed to like it. We sat on the bed and continued to get to know each other better as we ate. When we were finished, I took the dishes to the sink and then rejoined her on the bed. I squeezed my neck, and she asked if I was in pain. I told her that I had broken a vertebra while I was in the Air Force, and that it sometimes caused my neck and back to spasm in pain.
Carmen looked at me and said, “I know how to do massage. Would you like me to do that?”
I hadn’t expected that, but Bostancı Escort I replied, “That is very sweet of you. Are you sure it is OK?”
She blushed and said, “We are the only ones here. I won’t tell anybody if you don’t. Now take off your shirt and lay down.” I complied, and she was soon massaging my neck and back. She really did know how to massage. After about a half-hour, I was falling asleep from the wonderful feelings. My neck and back were not only relaxed, but she had extended the massage to include my sides, my arms and my upper butt. At one point, she asked if I would like her to massage my bottom. I didn’t even think about it, but undid my belt and zipper and pushed my pants down past my bottom.
“Hola,” she remarked. “What a tight, beautiful bottom. You must be very strong.”
Carmen laid her hands on my glutes and started kneading my muscles again. It felt heavenly. “Carmen,” I said, “You are gifted. I hope that you will do this for me often.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she replied as she massaged me. “I think you are a very special person, and I hope to be with you.” Carmen continued massaging me all over my back. Whenever she would come to my pants, she would push them down a tiny bit, so I lifted up enough to slide my pants and boxers down and off of my feet. Again, she hesitated, but then she massaged not only my back, but also my legs all the way to my feet.
I have no idea how long the massage lasted because I fell asleep. When I awoke, Carmen was laying in my bed next to me. We were both under the quilt, and she was laying wrapped around me with her head in the crook of my arm. I realized that meant I was laying on my back, and when I reached down, I realized that I was naked under the quilt. I peeked under the quilt at her and realized that she was now in her bra and panties only. I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and said, “Thank you. You are an angel.”
Carmen’s eyes opened and she looked up at me. “I’m not an angel. I’m just a woman who is enjoying being close to you.”
I leaned down to her again and softly kissed her on the lips. Her lips opened, and my tongue entered her mouth. She immediately started to suck it. If Carmen was an example, Mexican girls definitely knew how to kiss. The kiss went on and on as we caressed each other’s body.
I reached around behind her back and unhooked her bra, causing it to release her large breasts, and what magnificent breasts they were. Sometimes large breasts also have large nipples and large areolas, but hers were small (probably because they had never been touched or suckled). It was as if they were lost in the expanse of her bosom. I was caressing her breasts and nipples with my hands as we continued to kiss and she was moaning with pleasure.
When we finally broke the kiss, she said, “I want to keep kissing you. This is where I am meant to be.”
I leaned back in and kissed her again. I’m not sure how long we kissed in total, but it was a while. When my hand wandered down from her breast to her panties, though, Carmen said, “We can’t do any more. I am a virgin, and I want to give my virginity to my husband.”
I asked, “Can I at least touch? I won’t take your virginity unless you ask me to do so.”
She sighed, “OK. You can touch.”
I started by softly rubbing across her panties with my fingertips. Then, when her panties were completely soaked, I slid my fingers through the leg hole to caress her vulva directly, rubbing everything from her vaginal entrance to her clitoris. Just as I thought they would, her hips were soon rocking to my touches, and she was moaning and softly squealing in her pleasure. I slid her panties down just a bit to give my hand complete access to her pussy from the top and continued caressing her vulva.
I moved my lips down to suckle her nipples, and it was like turning on a valve down below. Her pussy was producing a lot of natural lubrication. I continued to caress her labia and clitoris with my fingers as I suckled her breasts. Carmen was coming close to an orgasm, but every time she was almost there, I would change things up just enough to pull her back from the edge.
The whole time, her panties were making a slow trip down her legs until they reached her knees. I hooked them with my toes and pulled them down the remaining distance to completely remove them.
Finally, when Carmen was almost at climax and I slowed down again, she pulled me up over her body and begged, “I have never felt like this or wanted anything more. Please, put it in me. I need you in me.” She spread her legs and wrapped them around my back as she reached down between us to direct my cock to its new home.
When I felt the tip settle into her vaginal entrance I asked, “Are you sure you want this?” I was very surprised that this girl had changed her moral position so quickly.
“Yes,” she hissed, and I slid forward to bury my cock in her pussy without further hesitation. I didn’t stop pushing my cock into her until the cockhead Ümraniye Escort was firmly pressed against her cervix. Tears flowed from her eyes, but she was smiling at the same time. I leaned down to kiss her again, and she kissed me back with passion.
At the same time, I didn’t want to make this girl pregnant, and I was fairly sure that she wasn’t on any form of birth control. I asked, “When did your last period end?”
She thought for a moment and replied, “Almost three weeks ago.” That was a relief. I could fuck her with no worry about her getting pregnant.
I started slowly thrusting and withdrawing my cock, slowly increasing the tempo and the length of each stroke. I had only thrust into her pussy a few times before her body’s movements mirrored mine, pressing her hips into me every time my cock drove into her. Soon, her fiery passion showed itself fully, and she was fucking me as hard as I was fucking her.
I looked down at where we were joined and noticed that there was fresh blood smeared around her pussy and on my cock. I asked if she was feeling OK, and she replied, “Yes, I am feeling wonderful. We are one.” I increased the tempo and force until my pelvis was slapping against her pussy with every stroke. The natural lubrication was literally running out of her pussy as I fucked her. Not only that, but there was a constant stream of squeals, moans and comments in both English and Spanish coming from her mouth. Carmen was definitely a hot Latin lover. It was a good thing my apartment was detached from all other structures, because she was loud.
Even though it had been a couple of weeks since I had last had sex, I had a lot of stamina with Carmen. I just kept fucking her with only pauses to change positions every once in a while. It took her quite a while before she orgasmed, but once she did, she seemed to repeat her orgasms over and over again every couple of minutes until I finally pressed firmly against her cervix and pumped my seed deep into her womb. Then, I collapsed, rolling slightly to the side so I didn’t crush her under my weight.
Carmen lay under me, planting kisses all over my face. When I was recovered enough to think, I asked, “Would you like me to take you to Planned Parenthood to get a prescription for birth control pills?” When she hesitated, I continued, “I don’t think you want to get pregnant. It would really mess up your life.”
“It would,” she replied, “Unless we were married.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning to get married.” I replied. “You aren’t fertile now, so I didn’t make you pregnant, but if we do this again, you might be … unless you are on the pill.”
“But you took my virginity and made love to me,” she started. “Doesn’t that mean we will be getting married?”
“Carmen,” I replied. You begged me to take your virginity. I told you I wouldn’t do that unless you asked me to do so, and then you did. I like you a lot, but I don’t love you yet, and where I come from, people shouldn’t get married unless they already love each other a lot. If you don’t get on the pill, we can’t continue seeing each other. I don’t want to take the risk that we will have unprotected sex again.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “I’m pretty sure that I already love you, Pete.”
“Carmen,” I said. “You have to know somebody very well before you can truly love them, and we barely know each other at all. Maybe with time, love will come, but it isn’t love yet. At some point, you might decide you don’t like me after all. I sometimes have nightmares, but I will tell you about them later, and you may find something else you don’t like.”
“OK,” she replied. “Can you take me to Planned Parenthood and pay for the prescription if there’s a charge?”
“Sure,” I said. “Would you like to go this afternoon or sometime tomorrow?”
“I don’t really want to go to Planned Parenthood at all,” she stated. “I would rather get married and have your babies, but tomorrow afternoon would be best if I have to do this. My last class gets over by 2 PM. Could you meet me by the Admin Building then?”
“I will be there,” I replied.
The next day, I was at the appointed spot, waiting to pick up Carmen when she came walking up to my car. “Hi,” she said as she got in. “I’m still not sure about this. I’m pretty sure that birth control is considered a sin in both the Mormon and the Catholic religions.”
I said, “Let’s go find a place to park, so we can talk about this.” We left the campus, and I drove us down to the parking lot next to the stadium. It was mostly empty, since it was a weekday. Once we were parked and the emergency brake was set, I asked her to explain what had changed her mind.
“I had a hard time sleeping last night,” she began. “I was feeling really guilty about having sex before I got married. It is considered a pretty serious sin, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought that getting on birth control would just make that sin even worse.”
“OK,” I replied. “But like I said, we can’t see each other any more unless you are on birth control.”
“Yes,” she said. “I understand that. I think we will have to reconsider being with each other. I will have to confess this to the bishop as it is, but don’t worry, I won’t have to tell him who I had sex with as part of the confession.”
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