Chelsea Oliver

Post image for Chelsea Oliver

by Ian on November 26, 2010

Chelsea Oliver is a senior at Seton Hill University in Greensburg, PA where she is double majoring in New Media Journalism and Communication.

For you, this sucks

I liked you for your dick.
It’s pretty big and
considering the pigment of your skin
is considerably darker than my own,
I knew daddy would find it upsetting if he found out
we fucked.

See, I was raised Catholic,
brought up by the Book,
with a few hundred Hail Mary’s
covering my ass.
And you, sir, are a victim
of something I call,
sex.

So I would suggest collecting your tears,
growing back some balls
and putting the shattered pieces of your heart
in a jar on the top shelf.
Then please, tattoo a big red ‘S’ on your chest
and for a second, do me a favor and swallow your pride.
Because I’ll tell you, boy…
This ain’t never been love.

Senior Year

It makes me laugh when I see you.
You, with your sly grin and suave swagger.
It makes me remember freshman year
when I was afraid to take my clothes off,
in front of you.
But you,
slyly,
persuaded me out of them.

I hated your grin then.
How you used it, to use me one night,
then told all of your teammates over breakfast
and by lunch, our sensual, loving evening
turned into another cliché, one night stand.

But now I’m a senior.
And I have the upper hand.
Because you for some reason
have yet to graduate
and all the other boys I’ve fucked since you,
have been better
and bigger.

From that freshman mistake,
to the two nights a week deal I had as a sophomore,
you were still living in the past
and by the time I hit junior year
I was still tight
and your dick kept looking smaller
and smaller.

Not that I know its exact measurements
but with you I know my mouth…
wasn’t opened nearly as wide as it needs to now.

And you may question the liquid leather feeling of my pussy,
considering how many boys I’ve let in since you,
but I assure you,
since I’ve slipped in a finger,
or two,
on the nights when I wanted to get it done myself,
it’s still tight.
Tight as if college never happened.
Like none of you were ever here.

But you,
on the other hand.
Your dick is still sad.
Especially compared to the full-sized Hershey’s chocolate bar
I’m getting now.

So the next time you wanna look my way
with your sly grin and that cheap swag.
Remember I’m not a freshman now
I can look you in the eye,
just like all the others.
With my own grin.
Only tonight,
when you’re home alone again
I’ll be getting mine.
And trust me.
He ain’t no freshman.

Sometimes I like role play

I’ll be your slutty student,
your damsel in distress,
the cheerleader to your football star,
even a dominatrix.
But don’t you dare,
make me call you
Daddy.

He’s the reason I crave sex.
The reason I despise it.
The reason I hate the word,
Daddy.

After he came into my room,
I had no chance.
He sat down beside me,
pretending to watch me sleep.
In case mom walked by.
But he slipped a finger in me
and covered my mouth
with my teddy bear.

My eyes shot open.
I knew this was wrong
but at thirteen
the hormones had kicked in
and I did as he said.

Moan.
Arch your back.
Bite your lip.
I did it all.
I pretended he was my history teacher.
He has hot and young.
He was not my daddy.

Shut the door.
Remove your clothes.
Lay back down.
Don’t tell your mother.
He always kept a finger inside me.
I moaned – like he asked.

As he rubbed my stomach,
squeezed my growing breasts
and finally kneeled over my naked body
he looked me square in the eye.
Then told me he knew what I did with the neighbor boy
and demanded I show him what I had to offer.

He threw my legs back.
My toes hit the headboard,
revealing all of my young, bare pussy
and he shoved all of himself inside of me.

The cock that created me,
was now in me.
The hands that once held me,
pushed my thighs against the mattress.
I couldn’t hide that I was wet,
pretending he was someone else
and gasping for breath between pounds.

I shut my eyes tightly.
He forced me to open them.
To stare at him
as he pumped himself in and out and
he watched as his speed made my boobs bounce
faster and faster.
He told me to moan for him as he went deeper.
Mmhmm, Daddy.
Oh yeah, Daddy.
Harder, Daddy, harder.
Daddy.
Daddy.
Daddy.

Stop!

Please treat me like the sexy nurse to your patient.
The dumb secretary to your boss.
Even the victim to your rapist.
Just never,
ever,
make me call you,
Daddy.

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