Hi everyone, I’m Pooja,19, a first-year Btech student. This is my story of losing my virginity during my first year of college.
Starting college, I quickly realised that I attracted my fair share of attention. Boys from my class, even some of the seniors, seemed to gravitate toward me. I guess I looked good, and maybe that’s all they saw.
But deep down, none of them gave me that elusive feeling I was looking for—that nervous flutter that you can’t shake. Ever since I hit puberty, I noticed myself growing into a young, pretty girl with all the curves. I sensed the looks, the glances. I could feel exactly why some of the guys were drawn to me.
It’s a bit of a superpower we girls have, really. We can sense when a guy’s interest is genuine and when it’s just skin-deep, fuelled by a passing attraction. So many of them seemed to see only what was on the outside. They wanted to admire me, touch me, sure, but they didn’t know me.
I wanted to experience intimacy, to share that part of myself with someone who’d see beyond the surface. A few of my friends already had boyfriends, even seniors. They’d tell me about sneaking away with them, skipping class to be with each other.
I could see it all in my mind. Sometimes, especially at night, I let myself drift into those fantasies. I would watch videos, let myself explore that side of me, and even rub myself while I imagined what they’d described. The need was there, and I wanted to share that with someone.
But I knew I was waiting for the right person. I wanted someone who would see all of me and not just what was on the outside. Someone who would respect my body and also lead me in a way that pushed my boundaries. I realised I’d been waiting for a man who would treat my body with reverence.
Take his time, and draw out that side of me that longed to submit, to let go completely. I wanted someone mature, someone who’d know exactly how to treat me. He wouldn’t make me feel like I was simply another girl they wanted to claim.
I was a bit weak in mathematics, so my mom found a tuition class in our society. We went to meet the tutor, Rohan, that evening. His wife opened the door, welcoming us warmly while Rohan finished his class with other students.
He was a math genius, working from home with an MNC and tutoring on the side. I noticed a few kids from the society attending his session. As they finished, Rohan stepped out to greet us. By the time he walked over, his wife and my mom were already chatting easily.
They had been married for about ten months, and it was a love marriage. Honestly, I didn’t even need anyone to tell me that—it was obvious. How could someone not fall for a guy like him? He was just… something else. That smile, the kind of sharp features that make your heart skip a beat.
His easygoing charm instantly set me at ease. He had a sense of humour, respect in his voice, and manners that were warm and confident. I could feel my legs weaken the more I looked at him, drawn in by the way he carried himself. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but I was captivated.
Even though he was married, I couldn’t help but imagine how he must be with his wife. What it would be like to be loved by someone so attractive. My mind wandered, imagining scenes of him at home with her, his touch, his warmth. It hit me that his wife was unbelievably lucky to have him.
Then, he looked at me, breaking my trance, and asked with a smile, “How are you, Pooja?” We talked about the topics I was struggling with and what I hoped to improve on. The very next day, I joined Rohan’s tuition. And honestly, those sessions quickly became the best part of my day.
We’d study, laugh, and occasionally catch his frustration when we slacked off, but I loved it all. There wasn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do if he asked. It was like I was under his spell. His charm and his confidence motivated me like nothing else.
I looked forward to each class to interact with him. Sometimes, I’d catch him looking back at me, too, and our eyes would meet. We’d share these subtle, lingering smiles. There was something unspoken between us, a tension that only seemed to grow each day, though neither of us acknowledged it.
And at night, I could barely keep my thoughts straight. I’d find myself scrolling through his Instagram, studying every picture, imagining his touch, his body against mine. My fantasies about him became so vivid, so consuming. I’d end up rubbing and fingering myself, letting his image fill my mind.
The thought of him took me to places I’d never been before. I’d cum harder than I ever thought possible, completely lost in the idea of him. The more I went to his place, the stronger the desire grew.
Every time I walked past his bedroom on my way to the study room, I imagined myself on that bed. He would be making love to me, pushing me to my limits, and making me do things I’d imagined. Some days, the thoughts got so intense that I’d excuse myself to use the bathroom, barely able to contain myself.
I’d lock the door, lean against it, and let my hands do what my mind was craving. I’d touch myself, imagining him. The thrill made me cum as quietly as possible before returning to the study table, flushed and still reeling. But these fantasies left me with so many questions, guilt even.
Was it wrong to feel this way about him? Was I crossing some invisible line by desiring someone married? Did these thoughts make me a bad person? I was confused, torn between my attraction and all the reasons I felt I shouldn’t be feeling it.
Yet, no matter how many times I tried to shake it off, he was there in my thoughts from the moment I woke up until I fell asleep. He was becoming my obsession, my first real, all-consuming crush. I didn’t know what to do with it.
Exams had finally started, and everyone else was preoccupied with tests. My exams ended two days later than everyone else’s. It meant I’d be alone with Rohan for those last two days. The thought sent waves of excitement through me.
I was determined to capture his attention, to make him see the desire I’d been holding back. I didn’t have a plan. I just knew I’d go with what my heart felt. The day finally arrived. I chose my outfit carefully: a fitted top that hugged my curves, showing off my boobs.
A skirt that ended just above my knees. I wanted him to notice the shape of my thighs, to make him want what I’d been dreaming about every night. And it worked. I caught him sneaking glances at my legs and thighs. His gaze lingered a little too long before he quickly looked away.
I crossed my legs, watching his reaction as my skirt rode up just a little, exposing more of my thighs. Still, he didn’t make a move. Was he being a gentleman? Or maybe he was afraid to act on the desire I could clearly see in his eyes?
I felt disappointed as I left that day, wondering if I’d read him all wrong. The next day, my last chance arrived. Determined to be bold, I went in wearing jeans and a fitted top without a bra. I was fully aware of how my nipples pressed against the fabric.
This time, something shifted in his eyes. I could see the hunger, the internal struggle. And it thrilled me to my core. What was stopping him? His commitment to his wife? The taboo of being my teacher? I could feel his gaze, more intense than ever, and a rush of courage filled me.
Rohan finally said the words I had been waiting to hear. “Pooja, if you do well on your exam, I’ll reward you,” he said with a smile that made my heart race. “I’ve worked hard with you, and your results will be my reward.”
Then, in a tone that sent shivers down my spine, he added, “But I have some other rewards in mind, too. Why don’t you come to my house tomorrow afternoon right after your exam?”
I could hardly contain my excitement. This was it! I pushed myself to focus on the exam, determined to give it my all. As I sat there, every question felt like a stepping stone toward that afternoon. I could almost taste the reward he promised.
The next day, I walked into that exam room with confidence. As I answered each question, I knew I was killing it. I performed better than I had expected. I could feel that I was exceeding not just my hopes but everyone else’s, too. With my heart racing, I made my way to Rohan’s house as soon as the exam ended.
When he opened the door, his smile was wide and inviting. “I’m so glad you came!” he said, stepping aside to let me in. I noticed how handsome he looked, even more so without his wife around.
“Guess how many marks I’ll get,” I said, unable to contain my excitement.
“Hmm, let’s see,” he replied, feigning thoughtfulness before I blurted out, “More than 85!”
His face lit up with joy. “Really? That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you!”
Seeing him happy made my heart soar. In that moment, all the fantasies and desires I’d harboured felt like they were about to come true.
Rohan surprised me by bringing out a small cake congratulating me for my hard work and success in the exams. With a warm smile, he offered me a piece, holding it up to my lips with his hand. As I took a bite, the simple gesture made me feel weak, melting inside with every passing second.
It felt like we were moving in perfect harmony, both enjoying this quiet, intimate moment. Then, just when I thought everything was falling into place, he looked at me, his gaze turning serious. “So, what have you been trying to do, Pooja?”
I tried to play it off, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?” I asked, forcing a light laugh. But his expression didn’t change.
“Come on, Pooja. Do you think I’m clueless?” His voice was steady but firm, as though he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m a married man with a bit of experience in reading people. And I know when someone’s trying to get closer.” He looked at me sharply, clearly waiting for an explanation.
His directness caught me completely off guard, and I felt my confidence drain away in a flash. I had never seen him this serious, and it shook me. My eyes started to sting. I blinked, feeling the embarrassment and vulnerability rising inside me.
Sensing my reaction, he softened and came closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I’m not mad. I want to understand.”
Something in his voice gave me the courage to speak up finally. Before I knew it, everything came tumbling out. In a shaky voice, I admitted, “I’m… I’m attracted to you, Rohan Sir. You have everything a girl looks for, and I couldn’t help it. I think… I really like you.”
Rohan listened to me with an expression I couldn’t read, then gave a soft nod. “It’s okay, Pooja,” he said calmly, almost reassuringly. “But tell me, why aren’t you interested in guys of your age?”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then admitted, “They just… don’t have what you have. The maturity, the chivalry—there’s something about you that I don’t see in any of the boys at college. They seem like kids to me, more interested in the thrill of the moment than in really understanding someone.”
I trailed off, realising how openly I was speaking. He listened without interrupting, nodding along as I tried to make sense of my feelings. Then he asked, “Do you think this is wrong? That you’re wrong to feel this way?”
I hesitated. “Maybe,” I admitted. “But I don’t know. It just feels… different with you. And I haven’t told anyone about these feelings. I thought I’d keep them to myself, but I couldn’t anymore.”
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing as if he was searching for every hidden thought I hadn’t dared to say aloud. Then he began his questions.
“Do you really like me, Pooja?” he asked softly, his voice even.
“Yes,” I answered quietly, my head lowered.
“Do you understand that this isn’t what society accepts? That it’s… unconventional?” His voice didn’t hold judgment, just curiosity.
“Yes,” I whispered again, feeling my face heat up.
“Have you kept these thoughts and feelings to yourself?” he continued.
“Yes,” I replied, almost defensively, wanting him to know that this was my secret alone.
“And will you keep this conversation private as well?”
“Yes,” I said, the word spilling out automatically.
His next question was different, unexpected. “And if I were to kiss you right now… you wouldn’t stop me?”
“Yes.” The word slipped out before I could think before I even realised what he’d asked.
Wait. My mind jolted as the meaning registered. Did he really just say…?
Our eyes locked, his expression softening but intense, holding something I hadn’t seen before. Before I could fully process what was happening, he moved closer. His hand found my waist, pulling me gently but firmly until our bodies were almost flushed together.
I felt his warmth, his breath so close. I instinctively lowered my gaze, nerves sparking through me. His hand lingered at my side, grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain.
Then he asked one last question, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me, Pooja… have you imagined this? Us… just like this?”
I didn’t answer. I just looked at him, the words caught somewhere between my heart and my lips. Our faces were mere inches apart, his eyes never leaving mine, searching.
And slowly, I closed my eyes, letting the silence answer for me, and waited, heart pounding, for him to make the next move. His lips brushed against mine softly at first, almost hesitant. Then he pressed deeper, his mouth claiming mine in a way that made my pulse race.
I felt my lips part instinctively, welcoming him as if I’d been waiting my whole life for this moment, for this kiss. Damn. He kissed me. Finally, after all those stolen glances, those unspoken words, he did what I’d been longing for. And it felt so right, so perfect.
My heart was racing, a silent plea echoing within me. ‘Rohan sir, please, take me. Love me. I’m all yours. Do whatever you want. I won’t stop you.’ I wanted him to feel how much I craved this, how much I craved him.
Without even realising it, my hands found their way to his hair, fingers slipping through the soft strands as I pulled him closer. His hands roamed gently across my back, grounding me and igniting sparks in my skin. His lips explored mine with such passion, such control.
I felt myself melt against him, surrendering to everything I’d ever wanted. We clung to each other, breathless and entwined. His lips left mine and traced a warm, gentle path to my neck, and my whole body responded as if I’d been set on fire.
Oh my god, this feeling—it was beyond anything I’d ever dreamed of. That kiss sent shivers racing down my spine, igniting a deep, primal need. I felt like I was his, completely, like he had every right to me now.
His voice, low and intoxicating, stirred something fierce inside me as he whispered, “Pooja, tell me… have you imagined us like this?”
I managed a shy “Hmm,” nodding, feeling his warm breath against my neck. Then he teased me further, “Tell me, have you imagined more than this?” My cheeks burned. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, so I just nodded, heart pounding.
“Will you keep this a secret?” he murmured, his lips still brushing my neck. I nodded, lost in his touch.
Finally, he asked, “Can I make all your imaginations come true?” It was everything I’d ever wanted to hear. I hugged him tightly, signalling my answer without words, surrendering to him.
In an instant, he showered kisses along my neck, each one sending me deeper into bliss. I felt myself melting against him, my voice escaping in a soft moan, “Sir, Aaah.” He lifted me effortlessly, his hands firm under me. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling safe and exhilarated all at once.
He carried me to the bedroom, flicking on the lights. But I murmured, “Sir, please… Not the lights.” And just like that, he obliged, his understanding nature and ease with others always his quiet superpower. Gently, he laid me down on his bed.
This bed. The very bed I’d pictured so many times, imagining moments just like this. It felt surreal. I was finally here with him, ready to give myself to him. He lay down beside me, his lips finding mine again, igniting every nerve. I kissed him back, pouring every bit of feeling I had into that kiss.
Even though I was new to this, I tried to match his passion, thinking of every scene I’d watched and every moment I’d imagined. His hands roamed over my waist, then up to my boobs. I felt my breath hitch as he caressed me.
My breathing quickened, lifting my boobs with every inhale. My back arched in response, bringing me closer to him. His fingers moved to the lower buttons of my shirt, slowly undoing each one. His hands made their way across my skin, brushing softly against my waist and lingering on my navel.
I felt a warmth spreading through me that I’d never experienced before. I melted into his touch, wanting more, every inch of me silently begging him to keep going. There wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation. Just this intense need for him to continue, to explore, to make me feel all the things I’d dreamed of.
His lips trailed down, lingering on my neck, moving over the thin fabric covering my boobs. Finally, landing on my bare navel. When he kissed and licked my belly button, a surge of pleasure washed over me, making me arch against him, gasping, “Sir.”
I couldn’t keep still—every kiss, every touch had me twisting, helpless under his spell. I felt like I was floating, completely taken over by the way he was savouring every inch of me. With my eyes shut, I surrendered completely, letting myself feel every move he made.
I had dreamed of this moment, longing for it in countless late-night fantasies. This man, who had taken over my thoughts, was now here, savouring every part of me with such care and passion. He kissed and licked my belly button. His mouth sends sparks of sensation across my skin.
When his hands moved to my boobs, gently squeezing, a shiver ran through me, and I gasped, “Aah. Sir.” The feeling was indescribable; I was melting under his touch, craving more. Then, slowly, he undid the remaining buttons of my college shirt, revealing the black bra underneath.
His eyes met mine, filled with desire. He leaned down, kissing and licking my cleavage, making my heart race even faster. My hands instinctively tangled in his hair, urging him closer, silently begging for him to continue. He kissed over the bra, tasting my skin.
I arched into his touch, feeling his hands trace my waist, grounding me in a moment I never wanted to end. I lifted myself slightly as he slid my shirt off, leaving me in just my black bra. His hands moved so naturally, exploring my skin.
Before I knew it, he gently pushed me down onto the bed, turning me over. I surrendered to his every move. His lips began tracing my back along my spine, each kiss electrifying, his warmth lingering on my skin. I moaned softly.
Feeling his hands travel to my shoulders, massaging and holding me close. His lips continued their journey, showering my back in soft, teasing kisses. He covered every inch, from my shoulders down to the curve of my lower back. Making me tremble with anticipation and pleasure.
I never imagined anything could feel so intense and perfect. He unhooked my bra and turned me gently to face him. A flood of emotions rushed through me—excitement, shyness, longing—all tangled together. I brought my hands up to cover myself, my cheeks warming.
I turned my face slightly away, unable to hide the shy smile that tugged at my lips. I could hardly believe this was happening. The person I’d secretly desired was now so close, his gaze filled with both admiration and desire. He leaned in, placing kisses along my skin, each touch igniting something new within me.
His mouth found its way to my nipples. As he took one into his mouth, a wave of pure pleasure coursed through me. “Aah, Sir!” I moaned, barely recognising the sound of my voice. He sucked gently, then a bit more hungrily. Each movement stirred me deeper.
His other hand cupped and caressed my other breast, kneading gently. I surrendered completely. Closing my eyes and losing myself in the rhythm of his touch. Feeling his hands trail down to my waist and back, his fingers exploring and igniting my senses.
I moaned his name softly, savouring each moment, each sensation. He drew me further into a world I had only dreamed of.
To be continued!
Did you enjoy this glimpse into my story? I’d love to hear your thoughts, feedback, and suggestions. Feel free to reach out to me via email or DM at [email protected]. Your insights mean the world to me!