I’ve been told that when my mother was in labor with me, my father made the mistake of getting his head down close to her. When he did so, she put him in a headlock and rasped, “If you ever touch me again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Twelve hours later, I was born. Surprisingly enough, my little brother, Michael, followed two years later.
My name is Rebecca Lee Garrett. I was born on February 29th, 2012. As a result, I have had all of four actual birthdays since then. On all non leap years, my family celebrates my birthday either on February 28th (odd years) or March 1st (even years).
My father is the Reverend Jason Garrett, pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and currently the Bishop of the DC Metro Synod (as in Washington, DC). My mother is Dr. Erin Benning Garrett, and from 2021 until 2029, she was the Secretary of Education under President Tara Martinson.
My family lives in Georgetown, in Washington, DC. So does my Uncle Austin’s family, and my Aunt Emily’s family. There is an explanation as to how the entire Garrett clan came to live in Georgetown.
We all used to be from the Los Angeles area, in California. I was born at Henry Mayo Hospital in Valencia, California. I wasn’t supposed to be born there, but my mom went into labor when she and my dad were up visiting a friend of theirs at El Camino Pines, a Lutheran camp about fifty miles north of Los Angeles. In 2021, when I was almost nine, my mom was appointed as Secretary of Education, and we moved to DC. My dad found a Lutheran parish looking for a pastor, and then in 2027, was elected bishop of the synod.
My Uncle Austin and his wife, Kat, were from Pasadena. I had heard that once upon a time my Aunt Kat did a little bit of amateur porn, but I didn’t believe it. Unfortunately, when I was twelve, a classmate of mine showed me the November 2009 Hustler in which she could be plainly seen screwing some guy’s brains out.
Anyway, Uncle Austin is in the Air Force. In 2024, he was promoted to colonel and assigned to the Air Force Intelligence office at the Pentagon. The house right next door to my parents’ house was for sale, so Austin and Kat bought that house and moved in. Their son, Reginald (he goes by Reggie), is my age – he was born a month after I was.
My Aunt Emily (Dad’s baby sister) and her husband, Marty Daly, lived in Northridge, but they moved to DC in 2026. If Uncle Marty’s name sounds familiar, it’s because from 2010 till 2024, he was the starting quarterback for the Los Angeles Marauders of the National Football League. Before that, he was the starting quarterback for four years at the University of Southern California. He retired in 2024 when his doctor told him that if he suffered one more concussion, it would probably cause severe brain damage.
In May of 2026, Uncle Marty was offered the job of head coach of the Washington Redskins. Well, he and Aunt Emily and their daughter, Marianne, packed up and moved to Georgetown, where they bought the house across the street from Uncle Austin. Marianne was born in March of 2014, two years after me.
In January of 2029, President Martinson’s term ended. However, she and her husband, Jacob, and their sons Russell (two months older than me) and Mark (Marianne’s age), liked Washington so much that they decided to stay. In fact, they ended up buying the house right across the street from my parents’, which was rather convenient, since she was an old college friend of both of my parents.
Now I had friends from school, and from church. However, my real “crew”, as I liked to call it, was my cousins and the President’s sons. Reggie and Russell were best friends, and I was very close to both of them. Mark and Michael were best friends as well, and Marianne was always around them. As it was, the three of us older kids were always hanging out with the three younger kids because our parents wanted us to keep an eye on them.
That had its ups and its downs. It was always fun hanging out with so many people, but when Reggie, Russ, and I turned 17, we couldn’t go to R-rated movies as long as they were hanging out with us, which they usually were.
They group of us were so close that nobody was really that surprised when, in the fall of 2029, Mark asked Marianne to go to homecoming with him. After that, they started dating. It was very cute, but kind of made Mike feel like a third wheel sometimes. As such, I made it a point for us to hang out as a group more, so that Mike would feel more included.
I had had a thing for Russ all through high school, but as the son of the President, and then the son of the former President, he pretty much had the pick of the litter. He played free safety and wide receiver for our high school’s football team, and throughout most of high school had a cheerleader on his arm.
I probably could’ve been a cheerleader. I’ve got the looks – a lot of people at my church tell me how much I look like my Aunt Kat, which is strange, since I have no blood relation to her at all. I got my dad’s height – I’m 5’10” – and my mom’s looks – kind of. I got her face, her complexion, and her chest – a fantastic 36D. However, I somehow ended up with red hair and bright green eyes, and the only explanation I can find is three generations back – my great grandmother was an immigrant from Ireland, and she had red hair and green eyes as well.
However, I was told that I was too tall to be a cheerleader. My parents, though, are both very talented musically, and I inherited that. I’m a classically trained pianist (got that from Dad), and I can sing the theme from The Phantom of the Opera without missing a note (got that from Mom). Fall semester of my senior year of high school, I was offered a full ride scholarship to Julliard. I accepted it right away, of course.
On March 1st, 2030, we celebrated my eighteenth birthday. The Martinsons hosted it, which made me quite happy – they had an indoor pool, which meant that I would get to put as much as possible on display for Russ to see. After all, he had been single for over a month now!
My family was there, as were Uncle Austin’s family and Aunt Emily’s family. My dad, Uncle Austin, Uncle Marty, and Jacob Martinson all got quickly blitzed on beer, while the women got a little more slowly smashed on wine.
“Well,” I commented as the six of us teenagers sat in the Martinsons’ family room, “this is a REAL fun birthday party. The adults are all smashed. What the heck are we supposed to do?”
“I’m going swimming,” said Marianne. “Screw them. Who’s with me?”
Mark and Mike both hopped up and followed her out. Then I saw a look pass between Reggie and Russ, and Reggie got up and left as well. GULP. There I was, wearing nothing but a bikini, alone in the room with Russ Martinson.
We sat in silence for a moment. Then he spoke.
“Becca,” he said.
Becca? He had never called me that before. It was always Rebecca or R.L. Only my closest girlfriends called me Becca.
“Becca,” he said again, “there’s something I really need to tell you.”
Oh God. Oh God.
“I really like you,” he continued slowly. “I have for a long time.”
“Why-” my voice came out like a croak. I cleared my throat. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I forced out.
“I was too nervous to,” he replied. “You’re just so beautiful, and such an incredible musician, I always figured that you’d just reject me out of hand.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “You were too nervous? Russ, you must’ve dated two thirds of the varsity cheerleading squad in the last three and a half years!”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, some of them were cool, but a lot of them only wanted to date me because I was the President’s son. They thought that if they could get me in bed, it would make them better than all other girls or something.”
Oh. That was something I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I had figured he’d been having sex with those girls, but I’d always kind of hoped…
“When I told them that I wasn’t going to have sex with them just because they wanted to say that they had gotten the President’s son in bed, a lot of them broke up with me. There were three that didn’t – they’re cool, and even though I’ve broken up with them, I’m still friends with them.”
Oh God, I shouldn’t ask, but the question’s just going to force it’s way out… “Did you… did you…”
“Yeah,” he answered before I could even get the question out. “I’m definitely not a virgin. Sometimes I regret the fact that I didn’t wait, but in a strange way, I don’t regret having sex with any of those three.”
Dammit, it was all three.
“The thing is,” he continued, “uh, the thing is…”
Where was he going with this?
“The reason I regret not waiting is because I wish that it had been you.”
OH HOLY SHIT. Here was Russ Martinson, son of the former President, Mr. Popular Jock, homecoming king 2029, telling me that he wished he had saved his virginity – FOR ME. “Oh boy,” I said. “That’s almost more than I can take.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I just really needed to tell you that.”
“No, no,” I replied. “It’s okay. Trust me, I do not mind being told that. It’s just way more than I ever expected to hear from you.”
Then something occurred to me. Wait a second, how had Russ gone from sitting on another couch to sitting next to me, with his hand on my knee? Not that that was a bad thing, I had just been so occupied with what was going on that I had failed to notice him move.
“Do you think… do you think there could be something between us?” he asked hesitantly.
“Sure!” I said. Oops, that was a little too happy. “Yes, I definitely do.”
And then, before I could lose my nerve, I leaned into him and kissed him.
But did the rat bastard kiss me back? NO. He broke it and said, “Wait a second, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Quite sure,” I replied. I kissed him again, and this time he responded. After a few minutes of just plain kissing, I got a little bored, so I snaked my tongue into his mouth.
When it touched his, I felt him take a quick breath, but he responded quickly… and then, just as quickly, he pulled back and said, “Maybe we should go someplace a little more private.”
“Someplace a little more private” turned out to be his bedroom. We sat down on the bed – and immediately went back to our little make-out session. After a few minutes, he broke the kiss again and began kissing my neck. My breath sped up, and I could feel my pussy starting to get wet. Calm down, I commanded myself. You don’t want to get too excited too fast. After all, this might be as far as it goes.
Well, that’s what I told myself right up until he unbuttoned the top button of my blouse… then the second… and then all of them. He kissed his way down my chest, and then kissed my stomach. Oh God, that feels good, my mind told me. I had to agree.
Looking up at me, he slowly unclasped the fastener on the front of my bra. He separated it, freeing my breasts. Gently, he kissed each one of them, slowly twirling his tongue around the nipple. Now THAT was a new sensation for me, and it almost made me cum then and there.
Then he backed off and unbuttoned his own shirt. Oh God, he was fantastic. His pecs were beautifully formed, and had nice definition, but not too much – like you’d see on a body builder. He had washboard abs, and he had an even tan – something that’s rather hard to come by in Washington, DC! Ever so slowly, he unzipped his khakis and pulled them down and off of his legs, leaving only a pair of black boxer briefs concealing what appeared to be a fantastic ass and an even more incredible cock.
But he had to tease me. As he returned to me, I reached for the waistband of his underwear, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Hooking a finger under the waistband of both my skirt and my panties at the same time, he slowly slid them down, over my knees, and off of my legs, leaving me completely naked. I don’t completely shave my pussy like so many women do these days, but keep it trimmed, very neat, and very short. In fact, I’ve seen porn from the beginning of the twenty-first century, and it appears that this was definitely the style back then.
Russ apparently approved, because he dived right in, using his tongue to do things to my pussy that I had never been able to do just with my fingers. I let out a soft moan as he worked his magic, feeling like I had never felt before.
But he was still just teasing me. He took me right to the edge of orgasm, and then stopped. Automatically, my hand went to my pussy, starting to rub it – I wanted to cum, dammit! But he grabbed my wrist again and moved it away. “Not yet,” he said, with a hint of laughter in his voice.
Then, he walked a few feet away and turned his back to me. With agonizing slowness, he rolled down his boxer briefs and let them slide down his legs and off his feet. Oh God, his ass was beautiful. I wanted to rush over and take a bite out of it. Turning his head to look at me over his shoulder, he said, “You like what you see?”
Oh yeah, I liked what I saw. And then, he turned around.
His cock was perfect, just like the rest of his body. It was erect and rock hard, about nine inches long. And he didn’t have a jungle surrounding it, like guys in pornos usually do. Instead, he had his pubic hair trimmed – not as short as mine, but it definitely was an area he paid attention to.
He walked back over to me, and as soon as it was in range, I wrapped my left hand around his cock. I gently stroked my hand up and down its length, surprised at just how warm it was. I reached up and kissed the tip of his cock, slowly licking it, almost like an ice cream cone.
“Um, yeah, you’re going to need to stop that,” Russ said. “If you don’t, I’m going to blow my load all over the wall.”
Reluctantly, I pulled my mouth away from his beautiful cock. “You’re going to have to do something soon, then,” I replied.
He opened the drawer of his nightstand and removed what I recognized to be a condom package. I had never actually seen one in use – public school sex ed is awful – but I knew what it was. I watched, fascinated, as he withdrew a small circle of clear latex rubber from the package and gently rolled it down the length of his cock.
Returning his attention to me, he leaned me down on my back on the bed, then leaned over me, supporting himself by putting one hand on either side of me. His cock laid with its tip just below my belly button. He slowly rubbed it up and down my slit, brushing my clit with each pass. He brought me just to the brink of orgasm once again – and then, just like every damn time before, stopped.
“Okay,” he said.
Pulling his cock all the way back, he positioned its head right at the entrance to my pussy. I watched, entranced, as the head made contact with my inner labia. He slowly pushed forward. As I watched, the head slipped between the lips of my pussy and I felt it enter me. He continued pushing forward, and I watched, amazed, as more of his cock disappeared into my pussy. Then I felt him come up against something, and he stopped.
“I’m at your hymen,” he said. “I can still pull out, no harm, no foul, or we can keep going.”
Oh, come on. Did he seriously think I wanted to stop?
“Let’s DEFINITELY keep going,” I replied.
“Okay, then,” he replied. “What’s going to happen next will probably hurt – maybe a little, maybe a lot.”
Oh. This was what I had heard from my friends about the pain when their so-called “maidenhead” was busted.
“Be gentle,” I said.
Having received the go ahead, he pulled back a little, and then quickly thrust forward.
Huh. Well, I felt pressure and a little pinch as my hymen gave way, but it didn’t hurt that badly at all.
He stopped. “Did it hurt?”
“Not really,” I replied. “Keep going!”
He resumed his ever so slow rate of entering me. I continued to watch his cock enter me, centimeter by centimeter. As I watched the last little bit of it enter me, I felt a tingle of pleasure as his cock ran into something – my cervix, I assumed.
He was completely inside of me, the tip of his cock in contact with my cervix. Oh boy, that felt good. “Okay,” I said, “are you just going to sit there, or are we going to keep going?”
“Let’s get it on,” he replied with a grin. He moved me further back, so that I was all the way on the bed, and laid himself down on top of me.
And then he pulled his cock all the way out of me. It was almost disappointing, the sudden emptiness that it left when he pulled out. But no sooner was he out than he pushed it back in – all the way back in. Then he pulled out, but not all the way this time. He quickly established a rhythm of in-out, in-out, thrusting quickly, but not too quickly. He brushed my cervix each time, causing my back to arch slightly every time he went in.
It was quite obvious to me that he had some experience, because he definitely knew what to do to get me going. With the thumb and index finger of his left hand, he started gently pinching my nipples, alternating between them. He leaned in and kissed me, hard and deep. As he did so, with all the stimuli that my body was reacting to, I felt an explosion building deep inside of me. As his thrusts got quicker, it got closer and closer to the surface. Then, suddenly, he thrust particularly hard and deep, and as his cock impacted my cervix, I let loose.
My face went white, my nipples got rock hard, and my body started to shake. I felt spasms racing through my pussy, and fluid started leaking out from my urethra. “Oh God,” I whispered, “oh God, oh God, oh YES!”
My first orgasm at the hands of a guy was quite amazing. When I finished, I felt Russ’s cock still in my pussy. He looked down at me with an amused grin. “Ready for more?” he asked.
Oh, he wasn’t done yet! “Oh hell yes.”
He pulled out of me, and told me to stand up. Then he laid down on the bed. “Now, turn around and face me,” he said.
I did as he ordered, and then, he added, “Now I want you to crouch over my cock, and slowly lower yourself until just the tip of it is touching the outside of your pussy.”
I did that too, “but I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold myself here for that long,” I warned him.
He raised his hands, and grabbed my waist. The upper body strength he had built as a football player was phenomenal, as he seemed to show no effort as he maneuvered my body in several different directions, rubbing my slit and clitoris against his cock as he did so. The stimulus felt amazing, and I felt a mini-orgasm – an aftershock, if you will – coming on. It let loose as the head of his cock just barely penetrated my pussy – and as my body started shaking, he let go of my waist, allowing me to fall the entire length of his cock. It rammed home against my cervix, and the aftershock turned into another full blown orgasm.
And he wasn’t about to let it stop. Acting quickly, he began to thrust his pelvis up and down, quickly sliding his cock in and out of my pussy. Each time he brushed my cervix, it caused another wave of the orgasm to flow out into my body. When he took the thumb of his right hand and started massaging my clit, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
As my orgasm hit peak after peak, I completely lost track of what was going on with Russ. It wasn’t till he grabbed my body and held me in place, freezing his cock as deep as it would go inside my pussy, that I realized that he had reached orgasm.
Even though he was wearing a condom, I could feel the warmth of his cum as it erupted out of his cock. The feeling of it against my cervix just added that much to my own orgasm.
When he finally finished, I expected him to pull out of me. But instead of doing so, he left his softening cock inside of me, pulled me to him, and kissed me as hard as he could. I responded in kind. After a couple of minutes of this, I felt his cock growing hard inside me once more. And then he started going again.
Grabbing me by the waist, he told me to wrap my legs around his back. When I had done so, he stood up. This was absolutely amazing – there I was, hanging in midair, my legs wrapped around my back, as he thrust his cock in and out of me. Turning so that my back was to the wall, he rested me against it – apparently holding me AND fucking me at the same time was a bit too strenuous, and he needed some support.
With my back against the wall, he picked up his pace again, fucking me with all of his might. The repeated brushing of my cervix quickly brought me back to orgasm. Even with the wall supporting me, though, he just didn’t have the strength to keep holding me up as I orgasmed.
Gently, he laid me back down on the bed and went back to fucking me missionary style – like we had started. After a few minutes, I could see in his face that he was coming back up to orgasm. And then – potential disaster.
Apparently, it’s not a good idea to use a condom more than once. It just wasn’t strong enough, and as he cummed, I felt it as it burst through the end of the condom and landed on my cervix. I almost panicked, but I was having too good an orgasm to really care, and I just let it go as he continued to cum inside of me.
When he finished, he slowly pulled out of me – and there it was, a condom with a shredded tip. There was no cum in it, which meant that both of his loads had drained into my pussy. And that was when I really panicked.
“Oh God,” I said. “Oh no, what if… what if I get pregnant?”
When I said the p-word, Russ looked like he’d been hit by a truck. “Oh shit,” he said. And that was all he could say. He kind of zoned out.
Quickly, I got up, went to his bathroom, and got in the shower. When his cum drained out of me, it was like the never ending river of semen. Then, even though I know it’s really not good for you, I shot the stream from the showerhead up inside my pussy, washing out as much of Russ’s cum as I could.
Well, the good news was… I didn’t get pregnant. This was confirmed about two weeks later when I started my period. However, despite the initial panic attack, Russ and I started a relationship, and continued to have a lot of sex. Since I didn’t want another accident like that first time, I got a prescription for birth control. And let me tell you – good as that first time was, it’s even better without a condom.
That fall, when I went off to Julliard, Russ went to Penn State to play football. Fortunately, it’s only a couple hours’ drive between them, so we see each other all the time. Our roommates have learned to not be around when we’re together. And hey – I get to say that I fucked the ex-President’s son.
Although I have a lot more motivation than that…