We begin this chapter the next morning, about four hours after the end of our last chapter.
Mrs. Huffman was awakened from a deep dream of peace by a blast of noise from the radio. It took her a few seconds to realize where she was, in her bed, in her bedroom. The next thing that happened was that she was overwhelmed by the powerful smell of sex: Pussy juice, some of it pooled on the sheet; cum splatters, much of it dry and some still wet, some leaking from her pussy; sweat, her own; his sweat. The whole room reeked of it, the remnant of hours of non-stop sex. .
Slowly, she remembered the fucking. It m
Our story picks up the next morning:
ust have gone on for four hours. He was really something.
Suddenly, she was awakened from her reverie by his voice; Harold McCarthy was yelling at her, "Get the fuck up! Get up." He was jumping up and down, pulling his shirt down over his head. "Come on, get up. We overslept." He was holding his pants in his hand, getting ready to pull them up. She could only wonder at his prick, it was stiff and hard. He must have come four or maybe five times at least last night....and that was only here in her bed. She wasn't counting the times before in her car or before that at the cabin.
She shook her head, trying to get the cobwebs out. They had quit fucking around six that morning. She looked over at the alarm clock next to her bed. It was, oh my god, nine forty five. She had been asleep for less than four hours.
"Leave me alone. I'm tired. I wanna sleep," she managed to say. She grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and pulled it over her head. Harold would have none of it. He pulled the blanket off of his former teacher's body and threw it to the floor. "Come on we're late!" he shouted. He began to pull her from the bed.
"What? Where?" she said as he stood up. She was still three quarters asleep. She was naked and dirty and tired.
"Hurry up," he was slipping his shoes on.
He picked her dress up from somewhere where it was lying on the floor. "Here, put this on." He slipped it over her head and began to pull it down to cover her body. The dress was stained with cum from last night's adventures. It was filthy from the car. It was creased and, like everything else in the room, smelled of sex and sweat. The dress even might have been the source of much of the smell.
"Wait," she screamed back at him. "I want to shower. I want to change into another dress. I need underwear. What are we late for? Where are we going? I want to sleep." Her mouth tasted awful. It surely tasted of his nasty cum, more. She tried to remember if she had given him a rim job. "I need to brush my teeth."
"We ain't got time," he said. He handed her her car keys and started to pull her to the door. "Get your shoes on," he ordered.
Still too dazed to think straight, she slipped her shoes on and followed as he pulled her through the door and out to the stairs she preferred to use instead of the elevator when she brought him into the building.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded as they hurried down the stairs.
"I got to see my buddies, remember. They invited me. They were having a party and I told them I'd be there by ten o'clock."
"I'm not going anywhere!" she said. By now they were out of the building and half-running towards her car. "I told you last night I wasn't going to go to any party. Let go of me. I want to go to sleep. Leave me alone."
"You got to come along. I told them I would be there and a promise is a promise."
"I didn't promise anybody anything. I want to go back home and go to sleep," she repeated.
"You can't. I need a ride. You gotta drive me over there. I get there late, they're going to be pissed."
"If I drive you over there, can I drop you off then and come back home to sleep?"
"Yeah, yeah. Ok. Sure. Whatever you want. But let's go. It's late."
She opened the car door and they got in, she at the driver's side, he the passenger's. The car, like everything else that she had smelled since she woke not more than five minutes ago, reeked with the odor of sex that both stimulated and disgusted her. "Which way do you want me to drive?" she asked. "And remember, I'm just going to drive you there. This is a favor because you seem so desperate. After I drop you off, I am going to go back home to get some sleep."
"Yeah, I already told you that you could do whatever you wanted when we got there. But let's go now. Come on! I don't wanna be late. Just drive towards the university. And hurry."
"Why is it so important that you be there and that you get there exactly on time," MaryJane asked.
"You don't gotta know. But when Leroy and Marquise invite me a party of theirs, they expect me to be there on time and no excuses."
"Who has a party that starts at ten in the morning?"
"They do, and it ain't none of your business when they start their party. Beside, they don't start the party at ten. The party ain't started yet or it started last night and is still going on. Either way, they told me to get there at ten. So quit asking me all those questions and just drive. Ok?"
MaryJane wondered how she had allowed Harold to get her into this situation. It certainly wasn't anything she wanted. She didn't feel like driving him to a party he needed to go to at ten in the morning. And she sure didn't want to drive him when she could have been asleep under her covers after a night that included multiple sex with multiple guys in the cabin, in her car and, finally, in her apartment with Harold. Giving in to Harold's entreaties most of the time resulted in MaryJane getting involved in situations she didn't really want to get involved in. "I am going to just drop you off and then turn around and go home," she said, as much as to remind him as to reassure herself.
"Yeah, I told you. There." He pointed. "At the light. Make a left. You go two blocks to Sweet Briar Street and make another left. Their house is the grey two story one."
MaryJane Huffman made the left and then the second left onto Sweet Briar. She wasn't very comfortable. This wasn't the best neighborhood in town, and this street seemed to be a sort of transition area between the university, about a mile away, and a semi-slum area that began a few blocks down.
"There. There!, That's it. That house, turn in the driveway. Yeah."
MaryJane turned into the driveway and parked next to the attached garage.
"Hey, I gotta tell you thanks," Harold said, looking at her car's dashboard timepiece. "You got us here right on time." He slipped his hand underneath her dress and put it on her naked thigh.
