It's a Saturday night, your second one at school, but the first time you're actually able to go out since getting everything together. In addition, I'm there, which is a rarity lately, and we're planning on drinking. We start in your room, downing a few initially painful shots. In a few minutes, though, the taste is worth it, because I'm with you and I can feel the alcohol lightening my head, taking away all my cares, and replacing them with lust for you. It warms my whole body, especially my pussy, and I start picturing what it will be like when you fuck me later tonight.
My face flushes a little at how obvious what I was thinking about must have been; my jaw is slightly dropped, my eyes wide and looking at nothing but the future and your sexy features. I take another shot, scrunching my face in disgust. I know I'll be set for the night, so I move on to you. You're in the midst of a shot yourself, and before you realize what's happening, I am on top of you, moaning and kissing your beautiful mouth roughly, wrapping my legs around you. I hear you drop the glass, and feel your newly freed hand squeeze my thigh. I continue kissing you, all over your face and your neck, breathing hard, running my hands through your hair. Your cock is pushing urgently through your pants, which only makes my desire worse; I start thrusting towards it.
You slide your hand further up my leg, then grab my ass hard. It hurts, but the pain mixes with my overwhelming desire for you to touch me. You grab the other cheek with your other hand and start directing my motions against your cock. My pussy is so hot, and I feel a trickle of cum moisten my panties. I moan out loud at the feel of it, and whisper, "I want you to fuck me" in hot breath in your ear. You start breathing heavier and grind me harder against you. The only thing I want more than to grab your cock is to feel it inside me. I take your hand and help you move it down my leg, to my inner thigh, and then let go, because I want you to touch me when YOU want it. I bite your neck gently, then nearly sink my teeth in when I feel your fingers brush against my pussy lips. You slide the tip of your finger up and down my dripping slit, flicking my clit at the top and teasing my hole at the bottom. I throw my head back in pleasure.
"Please..." I whisper. I don't want to tell you what to do, but I need it so badly that I can't stay quiet.
"What do you want?" you ask me. I know you want me to talk to you, tell you exactly what I want. Because of the alcohol, I hear myself saying it.
"Please... finger me, take two fingers and fuck me with them, I want to believe it's your cock." You're probably surprised that I said it, because you oblige me. I feel myself being opened up, filled by you, and my heart skips a beat. Long, deep moans escape my mouth, but I don't give any thought to stifling them. I don't care who hears us. All I care about is you and the feeling building and escalating inside me, rising up and up.
"Yeahhh, that feels sooooo good, oh GOD," I gasp, interrupting myself every few moments to kiss you violently. I can feel my eyes start rolling into the back of my head every time you curl your fingers inside of me, and your forceful breathing only accentuates it. My moans become screams, undulations into thrusts, and I cry out that I am about to cum...and you STOP. I am shocked, lost, and in pain; I feel like I am going to cry, but I know that denying me will only make it better in the end.
"Fuck you!" I whine, smiling.
"Later," you say, returning my smile, and you are even sexier than usual.
"Yeah, we should actually get going, it's getting pretty late," I said after checking my watch. "It's already after midnight, and we don't want to be out too late, because I believe we have some things to do here," I say with a purposely evil glint in my eyes. You agree, and I put some things together to wear. I had figured we would be doing something out of the ordinary for us this weekend; going to a club definitely was out of the ordinary. But at this point, I was so drunk and turned on that I couldn't care less about the fact that I hate dancing.
"Turn around," I ask you, because I don't want you to see what underwear I'm wearing, so it will be a surprise later on. You grudgingly turn, and I slip on a leopard-print satin thong and matching strapless bra. I pull on a tight, low-cut black tank top, running my hands across my breasts as I stretch the fabric over them. Then I grab a pair of three-inch black leather high heel boots, unzip the sides, and step into each one, the leather embracing my calves. It doesn't make sense to put them on before the skirt, but I know I look amazing, and I decide to give you a little peek.
I bend over, acting as though I need to pick up the skirt, and say, "Hey, I'm done." I hear you turn, and I look behind at you, giving you a sly smile. As I suspected, you can't resist, and within a second's time, your hands are all over my body. You denied me, though, so I'm going to deny you.
"No, that wasn't an invitation," I scold. "What kind of girl do you think I am?" Suddenly, I realize I can't resist either, and we share another erotic kiss. I stand on one foot while you hold my other leg. You hold me against you, your hand on the small of my back, and line the bulge in your pants up with my pussy. I feel myself getting absorbed in the moment again.
"No, we really have to stop, or else we'll never leave," I hear myself saying, although I want more than anything to bend over the bed beside you and have you violate me from behind. I step away, unzip my black leather miniskirt, and pull it on. You fasten your belt while I collect my hair into a ponytail. I somehow manage to apply black eyeliner, although the room is spinning a little.
"Alright, you want to go?" you ask.
"Yeah," I reply, and we walk out of the room, your arm around my waist, my face nestled in your neck. I have no idea where how to get out of the building, so I let you lead me. We traverse down a flight of stairs, me struggling in the boots and the drunkenness. At their base, I dig my hands into your back like claws and drag you onto me, against the wall. We are kissing and moaning and groping each other in an almost inhuman way. It would be all about hormones, except I love you on top of them, and it makes the intoxicating lust spiral through me so intensely. I break the kiss, looking deep into your eyes, and we collect ourselves and walk to the door.
The street en route to the club is a blur of people and colors. Cobblestones fly under my feet, and I grip you tightly, both to feel safe and to get closer to you. I observe the neon signs and all the cars going by blasting music with wonderment; it's nothing like my school in the middle of nowhere. Before I know it, we're in front of our destination. The ground pulsates from the vigorous dance music blaring inside, and the line of club-goers outside is swaying to the beat. I must have been watching them for longer than I realized, because I feel you tugging on my arm.
"They said we could go right in," you say.
"Why? Isn't that kind of unfair?" I ask.
"Look at you. You're so hot," you reply, and I smile. I almost forgot what I was wearing. We step into the club. It's overwhelming inside-- the music undulating through a perfect sexual tempo, new layers of beats grasping the previously existing ones, and the sound rises in waves like an orgasm. Lights flash from the ceiling, bathing everyone present in a luminescent spotlight for just a moment. The people themselves are packed closely on the floor, but every few seconds, I can make out individuals with individual looks of pleasurable determination on their sweat-shined faces. I'm sure there are a lot of attractive people out there, but I feel entirely asexual towards them. All my interest is focused on you. I feel you come up behind me and pull me close to you, and out of instinct, I thrust my ass against your crotch. You suck in a breath, and, taking me by the hand, pull me out onto the dance floor. We move until we blend in with the center of the crowd. Much unlike us, we start dancing. It is easier than I thought; the music absolutely takes hold of me. I grind myself against you, and you move your hands all over me, squeezing my breasts over the thin tank top, spreading my legs out wider, and bending my ass to you. I turn my head and kiss you. As our lips touch, I feel like I'm dreaming. I suck on your lower lip, then your upper one; when I can catch your tongue, I run my own over it as if it were your cock. It's too loud to hear you moan, but I can feel you doing it. I open my eyes to make sure you're not watching me, and quickly drop my hand to your waist. I plunge my hand down your pants and into the slit of your boxers, barely containing the length of your swollen cock. I squeeze the shaft as hard as I can, because you've said it doesn't hurt. I can feel the blood pumping, and all I can think about is how I would die to feel that same pumping inside of me. You take my face in both hands and kiss me again. I nearly cum at the voltage of it. It occurs to me that people may be watching us, but it's kind of a turn on. I feel like a "bad girl," but it's only superficial, because it's with you and what we have is real, not some lifeless fling. I slide my hand up your cock to the head, and I can tell by how hard it is that it's purplish-red, how it looks right before you cum, or when you've been hard for a long time. I wrap my fingers around your shaft and pull your body close to me.
"Let's get out of here, I want you to fuck me," I whispered in your ear. You slide your hand down my back and give me ass a hard squeeze, pushing me forward.
We walk out the club, and the walk becomes a run as we hurry back to your room. I have never wanted you this badly, and I can tell you feel the same way. You keep telling how badly you want to fuck me, and all I can do is moan. After what seems like forever, we're back in the privacy of your room. As usual, your roommates are nowhere to be found. The door slams behind us, and with the sound, I turn and kiss you hard. To my surprise, you pull me off of you.
"I am calling the shots tonight," you say, and I feel a rush of cum to my pussy. I am the type of person who is always in control in everyday life; the thought of having you take it away is such a turn on.
"Get on your knees," you order. I feel myself moan out loud at the power in your voice. I want nothing more than to feel like your little slut and suck your cock as well as I can. I want to impress you. I reach for your fly, but you back up.
"Use your teeth," you say. I look up you, a little shocked, but I am ready to do anything for you. You own me. I take the copper zipper between my teeth, tasting the bitterness of the metal, and painstakingly pull it down. I have to do it a few times before I get it right—I have enough trouble undoing it with one hand. I look up and see a huge bulge in your boxers. I strain upward and free your cock with my lips. I can't help but be overwhelmed by the sheer size of it, even though I've seen it many times before.
"I want you to suck it, and if you make me happy, I'll fuck you like the slut that you are," you whisper. I act as if on instinct, and crawl underneath your cock, licking the swollen underside of it, sucking all the way up the shaft, to the head. I can feel you shudder. I know you love it. Your cock is harder than I've ever seen it, and I plunge the tip of it into my hot mouth, licking it in soft circles. I feel your hand on my hair, stroking it, and something about it makes me feel even more submissive. Fearing my gag reflex a bit, I grab your leg with my left hand and you ass with my right, and take your entire cock down my throat. You moan out loud, and I do the same, over and over.
"Oh yeah, that feels so good," you groan. "I love when you suck my cock. Do you?" I pause to pull your dick out of my mouth, and answer with a breathless, "Yes." You stroke my hair again, this time more forcefully, and impale me on your hardness. I am completely yours. I am suddenly conscious of the wetness between my legs. I have been spread apart this whole time, and now I'm throbbing. I want you to touch me so badly. Maybe you can sense this, because you tell me to stop. You bend down and give me a luscious kiss. I am still on my knees, looking up at you, trying to determine what is to come next... but part of me doesn't want to know. The anticipation is delicious.
