Carla Dancer

All characters are over the age of eighteen.

"I can't dance," she replied quietly. I could barely understand her over the sound of Molly Hatchet's "Flirting With Disaster" blasting from the mismatched group of speakers on the other side of the dorm basement. Hell, ain't nobody can dance to that shit.

I smiled down at her. "Then why are you here? I don't see you doing beer bongs."

That got a snicker from her. "Yeah, not my thing either. My roommate made me come. Her boyfriend wanted her to bring more girls to the mixer. And I got drafted." In truth, there were only a dozen or so girls there and most of them seemed more intent on getting wasted than talking to the dorm rats.

I followed her eyes back to Jake, a sophomore from the floor above mine, dancing like a broken toy next to a pretty but bored-looking girl in high-waisted jeans and a peasant blouse. "That's your roommate? She's cute. But isn't Jake kind of... I don't know, nerdy for her?"

"He's getting her through Astro so she can meet her science requirement. He'll be history after this semester, I can guarantee."

I leaned back against the makeshift bar next to her, looking out at the mass of younger students wrapped in bedsheets around their polos. It was fucking 1982 and these nimrods were still doing toga parties.

I wasn't even supposed to be there, but my fellow Resident Advisor gave his girlfriend a bad case of the pregnants and they were in Charlotte to "take care of business" with a doctor that her sister had recommended. I would much rather have been downtown at one of the clubs listening to another Ramones wannabe band, but I was stuck.

The drinking age was still 18 for beer and wine then, and I decided not to look too closely at the big vat of Purple Jesus that the guys had mixed up with Everclear purchased by one of the seniors. My job was to make sure nobody drove anywhere, and nobody choked on their own vomit. Beyond that, they were on their own.

"So, what do you like to do?" I asked, not really caring about the answer but looking for something, anything, to pass the time. Talking to a cute girl seemed to be my least bad option. I slowly sipped on a can of Stroh's, pacing myself as I tried to be responsible.

She sighed and shrugged. "Honest to God, I don't know anymore. I thought I'd at least be interested in sex when I got to school, but even that hasn't been what I'd hoped." I choked on my beer at that, and she hit me in the shoulder as I coughed my throat clear.

"That's not funny!" she said with some heat. "I wanted it to be something special, but it's just been a disaster."

"I'm sorry. You're right, it's not funny. What do you think the problem is?"

"I don't think I can talk about it. I don't know why I said that. I don't even know your name." She looked up at me with a little smile. "Thanks for asking, though. No one else ever has."

I stood up straight and stuck my hand out. "I'm Robbie Hanes. Resident Advisor. Damn glad to meet you." I guess Animal House wasn't so long ago after all.

She giggled and shook my hand. "I'm Carla. Nice to meet you too."

"Would you like to go someplace quieter? I can get someone to keep an eye on these bozos for a little while."

"I think I would. This music sucks." My opinion of her rose quickly and significantly after that.

I walked over to Brad, one of the only seniors that was down there. He was more interested in getting high than drinking too much and said he didn't mind watching out for the guys. It was still relatively early, and I didn't expect the mass casualties to start for a couple more hours.

I ushered Carla up the stairs, admiring her nicely rounded backside that filled out her denim shorts in a delicious way. I had intended for us to stop in the common room on the main floor, but there were a couple of couples making out on the sofas and I could tell that Carla was uncomfortable with talking there.

"Can we just go to your room? I trust you. And I can scream really loud if necessary."

As an RA, I had a single on the third floor of the old dorm. We took our beers with us and climbed a couple more flights of stairs and walked down the quiet hallway. I unlocked the door to my corner room and shoved it open.

She took a minute to look around before nodding and sitting down on the loveseat that was below the lofted bed. There was a cheap, low-pile rug in front of it with a seldom-used bean bag chair. After handing her a red cup for her beer, I sat on my desk chair instead. Close to her, but not uncomfortably so, I hoped.

She touched her cup to my beer can in a salute and leaned back, resting her head on the back of the black sofa, her straight, dirty-blonde hair spreading out over the cushions. In the better light of my room, I could see that she was a lot prettier than I could tell in the dark basement. Not, as I told myself, that that should matter.

"If I tell you something, will you promise to keep it a secret?"

I nodded, but she wanted more assurance. "Say it. Please."

"Carla, I promise to keep anything you might say between just the two of us."

She nodded and sighed. "It's not bad, really, I guess. It's just so damn embarrassing. I don't even know why I'm telling you, but... I guess you seem nice. Like you won't laugh at me. And you were kind enough to ask."

She reached over and put her beer down on my desk before leaning back and hugging herself. With her university logo sweatshirt pulled more tightly around her, I noticed for the first time how nice her chest looked before quickly locking eyes with her again.

"I was inexperienced when I got to school here. I'd done some kissing and some making out, but I really didn't know what the hell I was doing. So when my roommate went home one weekend and the guy I was dating came over, I thought we'd figure it out together."

She lowered her head and looked down at her knees. "I'm going to make this quick. I didn't know how to tell him that I was on my period, and I didn't know that he was so squeamish. We did it. It was... fine? Then he pulled out, saw blood on his dick and he passed out. Hit his head on my dresser on the way down and I had to call EMS. It was the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me. Or to anyone, I think."

I'd promised her that I wouldn't laugh, but damn, it was difficult. Instead, I leaned over and took one of her hands in both of mine. "I'm so sorry, Carla. That must have been really traumatic for you both." Maybe my Psych classes were paying off.

She looked up into my eyes and then suddenly lunged forward, pushing me back into my desk chair as she straddled me. "Will you just hug me?" she whimpered as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

I nodded, although she hadn't given me much choice, and I held her tightly as she buried her face in my shoulder. I'm ashamed to say that I'd gotten halfway hard when she started describing her sexual history (it didn't take much in those days). Now she was sitting in my lap with my cock lodged against her most private place and I was trying to figure out what the hell to do.

The devil on my left shoulder kept goading me to go for it. "She's of age, she's not drunk, and she doesn't have a boyfriend. What's stopping you, dude?"

The angel on my right just leaned back and shrugged. "I'm staying out of this one, man. I agree with Red. You need to get laid."

I stopped trying to fight my erection and leaned down to kiss her, giving her every chance to turn her face away. But she moved a hand up to the back of my head and pulled us together, and our tongues quickly found each other. Holy crap, she was a great kisser.

I heard Carla moaning as she started to grind herself on my lap, then I realized that it was both of us that I was hearing. She pulled back for a moment and raised her arms, and it stupidly took me a few seconds to realize that she wanted me to lift her sweatshirt off.

We broke our kiss long enough for me to start undressing her, finding the front closure of her bra and making short work of it. I gently cupped one breast while I moved my kisses down to her neck, getting a gasp out of her as she leaned her head to the side to give me more room.

When she put her hands on my shoulders and leaned back, I took that as an invitation to explore further. I kissed down her shoulder and over her collarbone before covering one breast and then the other with kisses. I sucked a nipple hard between my teeth and her grinding on my lap became more insistent.

She grabbed my head with both hands and pulled my face up so that she could bury her tongue in my mouth. Her thighs started to quiver and the grip of her mouth on mine became almost painful. She screamed into me as her grinding finally brought her to an orgasm.

Her head dropped back down to my shoulder and her chest heaved against me as she tried to catch her breath. Who *was* this girl?

I hadn't planned on this. When my girlfriend had called me from her parents' house during Fall Break to break up with me, I took that as a sign. I was going to focus on my grades and on prepping for the GRE and that was that. Women could wait until I graduated.

It had been a short journey from being pissed about having to babysit a dorm mixer to having a cute, half-naked coed squirming on my lap. Carla looked up at me, maybe expecting, maybe asking.

I wrapped an arm around her bare waist and used my other against my desk to lever myself up. She wrapped her legs around me and I carried her the couple of short steps to the sofa, ducking to avoid hitting my head on my lofted bed.

Maybe I was too careful sometimes back then and missed some opportunities. This one could easily have gone that way. But before I could ask Carla if she wanted to continue, she unzipped her denim shorts and slid them down her tanned legs. Unasked question nonverbally answered.

I knelt in front of her on the ratty carpet, sliding her pink cotton panties down and tossing them blindly towards her shorts. Leaning down, I kissed the inside of her thigh, barely above her knee, and started a slow tease up her leg.

"No!" I looked up to see her eyes wide, her slender hands covering her mouth in surprise at her own outburst. "Sorry. Too ticklish. Robbie... just... just fuck me. Please. And don't black out." She said it like she'd never actually uttered the word "fuck" before.

I smiled, okay, maybe I leered. I blindly groped along the top of my desk until I found the box of Trojans that I mostly kept for the guys in the dorm that never seemed to plan ahead. I fumbled one out and started to open the packet when Clara shook her head.

"Robbie, you don't need that. I'm good. I, um, I'm protected." I probably really was leering after that as I leaned over her nude form to kiss her. She pulled my Izod over my head, getting it caught under my chin before she impatiently gave it a yank. It joined her sweatshirt on the floor.

I slid my hands under her sweet little butt and pulled her towards me until she was right on the edge of the sofa. Like a dolt, I realized that I was still wearing my shorts. We were both way too ready to go for me to bother taking them off, so I just unzipped and dropped them to my knees.

I looked up into Carla's eyes, giving her one last opportunity to change her mind. But she spread her legs wide and held her arms out to me. I'd never had a more obvious invitation. Time to stop over-thinking.

I leaned over her and guided myself into her. Again I was too slow for her, so she slid her hands down to my ass and pulled me into her. So that's how it was going to be. I pulled out slowly but then slammed myself down and into her, getting a grunt from her, followed by a giggle.

"That's it, Robbie! That's what I want! You won't break me." I grinned at her and decided to put that statement to the test, continuing to slowly slide out until only the tip of my cock was still inside her, then driving my full weight down onto her until I bottomed out. We were both grunting and gasping every time I drove my cock into her, grinning at each other in the dim light under the bunk like we were sharing a secret that no one else knew.

I didn't want to cum before she did, but it was quickly apparent that that wouldn't be a problem. Her arms squeezed around me and she urged me on to go even harder. "Right there, Robbie! Good dick! Good dick!" I had to stifle a laugh at that, which probably helped me hold on until I felt her squeezing around me as she came again.

I bottomed out and held her as I let go with an unexpected yelp, filling her sweet pussy with a serious backlog of jizz. "Fuck, Carla, so good baby!" She slowly came down from her own orgasm, her arms loosening their grip around my back.

We kissed until I slipped out of her, which I took as a cue to take the weight off my arms and collapse on the loveseat next to her, panting. She dropped her head to my shoulder, breathing heavily herself.

She touched my messy cock, which was still half-hard (I was a hell of a lot younger then). "Do you think you can go again tonight?" she said, looking up at me like she really didn't know. Given her experience, maybe she didn't.

"Carla, keep stroking my cock and it won't take long."

She decided to speed things up a little, leaning over to tentatively run her tongue up the underside of my dick. She squeaked when it gave a little jump as she reached the tip. She seemed okay with the taste of us together, and took me into her mouth just a little, running her tongue around the head. I was hard as a rock by the time she was done.

"My turn." She whispered in my ear as she swung her leg over me. I held my dick upright as she held onto the back of the loveseat and lowered herself down. As she bottomed out, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight, unmoving, my head against her chest as she hugged me to her. I hadn't expected sweet, but this was definitely sweet.

She started to move up and down, a little awkwardly, reminding me that this was only her second time having sex. Of course, it felt terrific being inside her, but I could tell that she was getting a little frustrated with not being able to find a rhythm that worked for her.

Then, despite the late hour, some asshole in the dorm across the quad cranked up Ian Dury's "Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick" really loud. I grinned up at Carla, but her eyes were closed and suddenly she was moving with the music, and definitely finding her groove.

She slammed down onto my cock with every major downbeat, every "hit me!", taking me deep, still with her eyes closed, focused on the music. I held her at the waist, helping her along and feeling her both relaxing and tensing at the same time. I'm not even sure she remembered I was there beyond my cock.

I was a little worried when the song ended just before I thought she was going to peak, but the unknown DJ followed it up with the Clash's "London Calling" and that seemed to do the trick.

Carla's eyes flew open, and she reached above her to grab the slats on the loft and started pogoing on my lap in time to Topper Headon's beat. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer and didn't have time to get out more than a "Fuck! Carla!" before I let loose inside her.

She wasn't far behind me, and I felt her milking my cock for everything I had left. She dropped her arms and collapsed on top of me. "So fucking good. I love that song."

I snickered at that and wrapped my arms around her again as her breath started getting back to normal. "Hey Carla, I thought you said you couldn't dance?"

She raised herself up so that she could look me in the eyes. "Shut up, Robbie!" I guessed from the big smile on her face that she was pleased with herself. I was pretty damn pleased with her as well.

"Damn. I should go check on my roommate."

I looked over at my alarm clock and realized that it was almost 1 am. Shit. I'd better go count the dead bodies.

It was quiet on the floor. I took a few steps down the hall and ducked into the bathroom, checking the stalls before doing my own business and then going back for Carla. I stood guard outside, but all the residents were either asleep or passed out.

The scene in the basement wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Oh, it smelled like sweat and flat beer and vomit, but I only spotted two casualties and they were both breathing and lying on their sides, so I let them be.

Carla decided that her roommate had ditched her - not unreasonable under the circumstances. But a loud snore led us to one of the study rooms, where we found Carla's roommate passed out with her head on Jake's shoulder and her hand down his pants. I guess he almost got lucky.

We got her up and I mostly carried her up the stairs to the common room.

"Want some help getting her back to your room?"

Carla shrugged. "Nah, it's not far and I'll slap her a couple of times to wake her up. It'll be fun."

I started to transfer her roomie to her care when she asked, "Are you going to call me?"

A lot of thoughts went through my head but the only words that came out were, "Do you want me too?"

Her answer was that exasperated sigh/eyeroll combo that women perfect at an early age to let men know that they're being particularly dumb. She magicked a blue Bic Stick from somewhere and reached for my free hand. Her digits inscribed, she finally said, "Yes, please."

I stood in the doorway, watching as she wrestled her roommate across the quad until I was sure they were going to make it to the dorm okay. I glanced at her number inscribed on the back of my hand as I climbed the stairs, resolving to wash it off before getting back to my room.

Instead, I pulled out my address book and carefully wrote her number down next to my name for her - Carla Dancer.