Apryl Fooled

Almost asleep, my fantasies now began their play, with Mr. Phillips in a tattered gym uniform, pleading for forgiveness as Ryan, the Viking, stood over him, broad sword unsheathed and glistening its threat. His free arm held me tight against his side. Me, his beloved maiden, wronged at the hands of a teacher, held safe while my long, blonde curls drifted in some unrecognized breeze. Mr. Phillips crawled away to the gym showers, sniveling, as my proud Viking quickly instantly shed his armor and looked into my soul with a hunger born of years of unfulfilled need. My flimsy gown evaporated as his eyes drooled down my slender form, before he lifted me onto a bed so huge that it continued beyond the horizon...

Later That Morning

"What the hell was I dreaming last night!?" my awakening mind pleaded, as I valiantly tried to unscramble various sensations; the threat of a monstrous cock wanting to kill me; feelings of safety and care in a neat brick home; the deep loneliness of high school, and a vague sense of some armored warrior wanting to keep me as his, with a hunger for me that was beyond all possibility.

Trying to sense the immediate reality, I looked at Yuma's side of the room and saw no Yuma. Just an empty bed, yet to be made up. Her notebook computer was open, but not turned on. Her alarm clock said 10:40 AM. "Guess she's back at the library."

I sat up, and looked out the window at the hazy light of this day in mid-March. I wondered what the hell was going on with the recent men in my life. One brutally fucked me, and I wondered what I would do on Tuesday when I had his class again. Another had fucked me when I was passed out, and then jumped my roommate. Then there was Ryan. He was too nice, too decent to show how much he seemed to want my body. I was so comfortable with him, yet what I desired was excitement, the dance of shared lust. How would I get back to meeting guys who wanted that dance, without them being sleazeballs, nor too polite to display their desire for me?

Tuesday Gym Class

On Tuesday, at gym class, I walked out the field, having decided that I wouldn't let Mr. Phillips have any satisfaction of knowing that he had affected me, in any way. I heard the padding of fast steps up behind me, and then flinched with an angry twitch as I heard his disgusting voice. "Hello Ms. Riggens. Did you get everything you needed?"

My previous decision did not hold as I growled back, "If I'd got everything I wanted, your dick would've fallen off!"

"My, my, pretty one. You could make that 'B' into an 'A', if you would just be a little 'friendlier'!"

I stopped abruptly, with Mr. Phillips lightly bumping my shoulder as he tried to avoid me. I glared at him, waiting for another student to pass by. Then, I again growled, "I will NEVER be 'friendly', or even alone with you again, asshole!"

"Your loss, my girl!" he smirked, and then turned and walked on. My insides twisted in anger, and, apparently, also at the first warnings that my period was approaching. My mind issued a string of the most insulting, vulgar terms for him that I could conjure, which was broken off by Strega's roommate Candy lightly pushing me, "Get movin' Apryl! We're that last ones."

Friday

When my cramping had subsided later in the week, I took Strega shopping, as neither of us had interfering classes on Friday morning. We found her some reasonably priced (thank you Macy's Last Act clearance section) clothes that emphasized her assets. We went out into the mall, but we only got a short distance before Strega was abruptly sucked into a costume jewelry shop. I stopped and was turning towards the store, when a hand rested on my arm.

"Hey, gorgeous!" said Rod Benson.

"Hey yourself, Rod," I answered back to the magnetic blue eyes of the man the girls called "Hot Rod", and with whom I had let indulge himself in me, once before.

"You know, we're having a party at my house on Saturday, the 1^st. It would be great if you come. You'd be the center of attention, I bet."

Wanting to get back into filling "my tank" up, I said, "Sure! What time?"

"How about seven?" he asked.

"Great!" I chirped, "Now, I'd better catch up with Strega before she cleans out the store. Bye!"

"See ya on the first, at 7 PM," said Rod over his shoulder, as he turned away.

Strega and I got back by 1 PM, and I had a single class at 2 PM. In a bit, I headed for that English class. As I turned into the long hallway of the building, Ryan was coming out of a door. "You doing okay?" he asked, studying my face.

I sensed the depth of his concern, and it reminded me of my grandma. I just stood there, watching his eyes, and wanting to find that look of strong desire. Not finding it, I snapped out of my trance, and quickly said, "Yeah much better. And thanks again... I know I have said it already, but... I really appreciated your help that night."

"Anytime," he smiled, "I was just glad I was there at the right time to help. Have you thought anymore about us going out?"

Startled by his reminder, I smiled back, "I'm still thinking about it." Again, studying his face, and not seeing what I wanted, I said, "I will let you know, soon." I saw his smile hesitate.

"Either way, you are welcome to stop by my place... anytime," he said, "I have to get to my class. Bye!" His deep voice had almost echoed in the hallway.

I watched him walk away, with a smiling glance over his shoulder. I was surprised that I felt slightly sad that he was leaving.

8 Days Later

On Saturday, the 1^st, I had dressed to impress. I had on a short, red, low-cut dress, made from a slightly shear fabric that just hinted at my red underwear. I had to admit, my shoes were "Fuck Me" heels; tall & red. I really needed my fuel tonight, and I wanted to see dozens of longing looks wanting my naked body under them. I took a last glance at myself, "What do you think of this, Yuma?"

She looked up from her computer, and with eyes wide, she exclaimed, "I think you should be on a magazine. You stunning!"

Smiling, I put on my coat, waved to her and left. Getting in my Honda, I was anxious to get to the party, and make my entrance. I arrived at 7:10 at Rod's house, which was probably a mile or more from campus. He came from a family with enough money that he could afford to rent a house just for himself. I locked my purse in the car and then went and knocked on the door. Rod answered it, with "Come on in!" over the background of thumping music.

I stepped in and removed my coat, and hung it on a peg, noticing that mine was the only coat on it.

Rod gushed, "WOW! There is hot, and then there is HOT! Let me look at you!".

I smiled, and did a little twirl.

"Perfect!" Rod blurted, with a leer. My tank was starting to fill.

"Have a seat, and let me get you a drink!" he requested.

I nodded, and walked forward... into an empty room. As he handed me the drink, I asked, "Where is everybody?"

Rod grinned, "I was just planning on a small party, ya know. Just one with the people I'm tight with."

"Oh" I responded, with my disappointment meant to be obvious.

"Aw, come on Apryl. You'll really like them and I know you will enjoy yourself."

I sipped my drink and winced at the strength of the alcohol. "Alright Rod. How soon do you expect them?"

"Probably ten, or less... Relax!"

I tried to relax, but my disappointment that this would not be a big party with a lot of guys' eyes on me, was weighing on mood. I lightly sipped at the strong drink for few minutes. The doorbell rang. Rod answered it and let in two nice looking guys that I didn't know. They walked my way, and I stood. The two newcomers' eyes grew larger. More in my tank, those looks.

"God damn, she is hot shit!" one exclaimed to Rod. The other said in drooling tone to Rod, "She's perfect! This is gonna be one fuckin' hot night!"

"Huh?" my mind exclaimed.

"Brent, this Apryl," Rod introduced, "Todd, this is Apryl, your entertainment for this evening!"

"HUH!?...WHAT!?" my mind yelled, with me not responding to the introductions. I shuddered with the sudden uneasiness.

"How many more people are coming!?" I demanded, "And what do you mean 'your entertainment'!"

"Just one more guy, Apryl baby," Rod said, in a soothing tone, as he petted my arm in assurance. "Come on Apryl, don't be shy. You like all the guys. We all know you will fuck anyone, and I was sure you'd like a whole selection of dicks for all your holes."

My face and mind stalled. "Fuck anyone?... dicks for all my holes?" I started to shake with anger. Finding my voice, my eyes turned to Rod, "Not on your life!" I barked.

Todd whined, "Hey Apryl, come on? I brought lotsa $1 bills, and you are so hot!" as he fanned a stack of money.

My stunned eyes scanned from grinning Todd, to leering Brent, to smirking Rod, as my anger boiled. "Who the fuck do you think I am!? One of those... what are they called... Cum Sluts?! Are you out of your mind!?" I blurted, just below screaming volume.

Rod softly gripped my arm, "Come on, Apryl, you will enjoy it! Tod & Brent have heard the rumors about you, too. 'Anytime, Anywhere, Apryl.' Just think about having a hot dick in that sweet cunt of yours, while another is pumping your ass, and your mouth has another ready to blast your tonsils with his man seed. Doesn't that turn you on? And see (pointing), we have cameras. You can have as many copies as you want!"

"SHIT!!" I screamed at Rod, and bolted around the three of them, heading for the front door. As I threw my coat over my arms, the doorbell rang. "What other fucking idiot is here!?" I yelled, yanking the door open.

Mr. Phillips was the other idiot. "NO FUCKING WAY!" I loudly growled, and shoved aside a surprised Mr. Phillips, sending him off of his feet to crash into the bushes.

I ran to my car, jumped in, throwing my coat onto the seat, and then squealed my tires on the dusty curb edge. As I drove... somewhere... I smacked the steering wheel rim, over & over. "What is wrong with all these fuckers!" I screamed at the windshield. Then, with a loud moan, I pleaded for the answer to; "When did I become a fuck toy for every man on campus?!" Fuming, I drove and drove... wherever. The adrenaline began to wear off, and I was starting to shake, rather sharply.

"I needed to park somewhere," I thought, trying to compose myself. I suddenly braked hard for the deep drain that crossed the intersection, stopping just short of pounding my Honda down into it. Mad at myself for paying so little attention to the road, I slammed my palms onto the steering wheel rim, once again. Wanting to do better, I looked both ways at the intersection...

"What!" I thought, in shock. "I am right in front of Ryan's house!" Before I could comprehend how I had managed that, a short "beep" from behind told me somebody wanted me to move. Flustered, I chose the most obvious answer to me. Maybe not to you, but to me. I pulled into Ryan's driveway and parked.

I sat there, angry, fuming, cursing Rod and his asshole buddies. Through all of this came a moment of clarity; I needed Ryan's concern. I jumped out my car, oblivious to the fact that I had not locked it nor taken my coat, and trotted to Ryan's door. I pushed the doorbell. A second later, out of patience, I pounded on the wood door. Still, I was startled as I actually saw his face when the door opened.

"Damn it!" I barked. A confused Ryan took a quick look at me, and asked, "Did we have a date tonight that I forgot about?!"

"Just shut up you... you... MAN!" I growled, and pushed past him. I stomped my heels into the living room, plopped my butt on the sofa, and crossed my arms firmly over my chest.

"Do I dare offer you anything," Ryan cautiously asked, "or do you just want to curse my gender some more?"

I abruptly unfolded my arms and slapped my palms on the couch. "Arrrgggh!" I yelled at the ceiling, before using a semi-normal voice to growl, "I am not mad at you! Alright?"

"Well, I guess that is a relief," Ryan commented, too calmly.

I wanted him mad as hell, but not at me. I just wanted to share the rage I had in me. "I'll take a strong drink!"

"Mixed or straight?"

"MIXED!" I snapped. Acknowledging my own anger, I repeated it in a nearly calm voice, "Mixed... please."

"Like margaritas?"

I took a couple deep breaths before I said, with my insides yet trembling, "Sure. I love a good margarita. On the rocks, please."

Still swearing at men... other men, I sat there listening to cabinets opening and closing, bottles clanking on the counter, glasses clinking, and a shaker rattling with ice. Also, I heard something ripping, and then numerous somethings lightly chatter against an apparent bowl.

"Salt?"

"Yes" I replied, rather surprised that I didn't feel the word burst out of me.

In a moment, Ryan returned, balancing salted, stemmed glasses with ice, and the shaker, plus a bowl of tortilla chips.

Deciding to give him a break from "Angry Apryl", I said, "Is this the special of Casa Ryan?" with my voice bordering on pleasant.

"Yes, it is," Ryan smiled, as he set everything down. "I will make more, if you want them, and if you wish to stay that long." He poured the margaritas and then sat on the couch, facing me.

I sipped the margarita, "This IS good!" Then I downed half the margarita.

Ryan chuckled, poured the remainder of the shaker into my glass, and said he was making more, as he stood and walked towards the kitchen. After more of the same noises, he returned with a full shaker, and topped off my glass, again.

"So, should I ask what has so upset you, or do you just want to grind it out at your own pace?" he asked, in a patient tone, as he returned to couch.

"MEN! Fucking Men! ... except you," I pleaded to the ceiling.

"No, you are not fucking me."

"Ha... Ha..." I said, flatly, as I turned to look at his smirking face. Then suddenly curious, amidst my anger, "Were you referring to the past or the future?"

"Well, we both know it hasn't happened in the past," he said, calmly, "As for the future... we'll see."

"I show up at your door, dressed like most men's fantasy, if I do say so, and all you're thinking is 'we'll see'? Did I miss something? Are you gay?" I said, looking blank.

"Not gay"

"Then, I don't get you!?" I said, exasperated.

"I know," Ryan said, quietly, "So, did you come here to explore my sexual interests, or deal with your own frustrations?"

"Me!" I snapped.

"Well then, what is it that 'Fucking Men!' have done, this time, to upset you so much?"

"Okay, this is still weird talking to a man about, but I am just going to lay this out here. Just be prepared; it won't be pretty, and you may lose what little respect you have for me!" I sighed and finished my margarita.

"I doubt that," he replied, and refilled my margarita.

"So, I like men to want me," I said with the momentum from my earlier anger, and his margaritas, just propelling me to jump right in. "I want them to look at me with a hunger that says nothing would make them happier than to be inside of me, pumping their seed into me."

Ryan briefly scowled, while leaning farther back against the couch.

"I warned you!" I said.

"And I assume, then, that more than a few have had their wish come true?" he asked.

"Sorry to admit to you, but yes," I said, watching his eyes, "More than a few. I like... no, I need to see a man's eyes glitter as I expose my body to him. Even just to see him stare in awe as I walk past, pursuing my image, if you will. If fills me with so much satisfaction that I crave it!"

"And why is that?" he asked, simply.

Now my eyes dropped, "I... well, I... I ... can't go into that now," and I drank some more.

"Alright," Ryan said, just as simply as before, "Then I assume this obsession with their adoration of your physical beauty has led to some problem."

"Yes," I admitted quietly, and then even softer, "You really think I am beautiful?"

"You certainly are," he promptly replied, "If I were one to lust after a woman solely on their physical appearance, you would be at the top of my list!"

"Huh?... Really?!, I thought you were interested in me, but I never saw 'lust'. Why didn't you show it!?"

"We're here to talk about 'Anytime, Anywhere, Apryl," he said, so calmly, that I did a double take.

I dropped my head into my hands, and then shook my head, muttering, "Oh Shit! You've heard that, too!"

"Yes, but I don't believe it, despite what you've told me tonight," he said, thankfully in a still calm voice.

"Thank you, but it's not fair," I sighed, raising my head, "I don't just let any dick that wanders by have his way with me. And I don't do groups, not even female threesomes. Nor do I do it for money, or out in the open. I'm not a slut!"

"Sorry," Ryan said, "But the definition of a slut is a woman who has many sexual partners. Nothing is in the definition about the nature of those activities."

"So you think I am a slut!?" I said, with wide eyes.

"You meet a dictionary's criteria for a slut," he said, before smiling, "But I don't think of you that way."

"Great!" I proclaimed, "I am a slut, and probably a drunk, and tonight I was expected to be a cum slut!"

"Do you drink until you are drunk, every time? And do you drink every day?" he asked.

"No and No!" I said, "Just often at parties. Other than that, I rarely drink."

"Then I would not classify you as a drunk, though you might be one tonight, if you want that empty glass refilled."

"Will you forgive me if I say I want refills?" I asked.

"Of course, and I caught that plural form," he said, picking up my glass and the shaker, and then leaving for the kitchen.

As I heard those noises from the kitchen again, I also heard his voice, "So, you said something about an 'Expectation to be a cum slut'?"

I called over my shoulder, "Yeah, but let me save those really horrid details until you return with that delicious margarita." I nibbled on a few chips as I waited.

Ryan returned with a freshly salted rim on a clean glass with ice in it, and poured it close to full. Before he sat, I said quickly, "Please sit next to me?"

He complied, leaning back with his arms on top of the couch's log frame. I leaned back, sinking in until my head rested on his forearm. "Alright, here is where it really went off the tracks," I said, waving a chip around for emphasis.

"Choo, Choo!" he chimed in a high voice.

I rolled my head and gave him a playful glare, "Really? I am about to bare my soul, and that is the support I get!?"

He shrugged, and I laughed. That was my first laugh tonight, I noted. "Must be the margaritas."

"So, I am just going along, happy at being a 'slut'!" Even I winced at that term. "Meeting decent guys, more or less. Then, a few weeks ago, I party with a guy, I drink a lot, we do the lust dance, and I bring him back to my dorm room to fulfill his fantasy. My roomy was asleep. The guy is so-so in the sack, and at some point, I fade out from booze or boredom, or both."

That got a laugh out of Ryan, and I smiled at his laugh.

"I wake the next morning to find him gone, and then my roomy drops 'the bomb'. The guy had done me again, when I was passed out! And THEN, jumps my roomy! Which she enjoyed, by the way."

"Ouch!" Ryan grimaced.

"Yeah, What a Sleazeball, right?" I crowed.

"Right," he said.

"SOooo... if that isn't bad enough, soon after, I go upstairs at the frat party with 'Mr. Teacher', who you already heard about. He scares me with his indifference to my pain, and that he wants me to humiliate myself."

"So, sleaze #2?" Ryan remarks, after setting his margarita down.