Cleaning Duty Ch. 02 - Rainy Campus Night

The Christian sorority was a mile away in one direction. The dorms at Vol Hall were only half a mile in the other. Meghan's knack for geometry made us choose my place for shelter. Not to mention the fact that they never would have allowed me inside hers.

The rain beat down, the howling winds threatening to tear the umbrella from our hands. Meghan giggled through the gale as our clothes turned to sponges. Flashfloods overtook entire sections of pavement. A car hit a puddle, hard, and drenched us in a wall of muddy water.

I screamed, "Fucking asshole!" only to hear Meghan cackling beside me. Pretty soon, I found myself laughing with her.

We sloshed our way to Vol Hall. We dripped and shivered on the elevator ride up to my floor. We waddled uncomfortably down the hallway, dragging the battered remains of the umbrella across the tiles. I unlocked the apartment and slammed the door behind us with a mighty cry of, "Holy SHIT!"

Meghan's teeth chattered as she said, "Oh my Gosh, that was nasty!"

I forced myself to ignore the mud stains that our sneakers left upon the carpet. With Jeremy away to see his folks in Memphis for the weekend, I would have plenty of time to vacuum the place before his return. My janitorial experience would no doubt come in handy.

Racing to the thermostat, I raised the temperature from a ridiculous sixty-six degrees to a comfortable eighty-five.

Drenching the kitchen tiles with dirty water, Meghan said, "How long does it take to catch hypothermia?"

As much as I would have savored the prospect of being medically obligated to strip naked and cuddle in a sleeping bag with her to conserve body heat, I lead Meghan to the shower. At random, I grabbed some of my gym clothes and set them upon the toilet lid for her.

Grabbing a towel for myself, I said, "Take your time and get warmed up. I'll be out here, attempting to do the same."

I shut the door on myself. When I heard the shower start, I peeled off my drenched clothes and dumped them in the kitchenette sink. I scrubbed myself down with the towel. I put on a fresh T-shirt with some sweatpants before collapsing upon the futon.

It was still ten minutes before Meghan cut off the shower. Five minutes after that, she emerged in a comically oversized Radiohead T-shirt and my gym shorts. She scrubbed the towel through her blue pixie cut. "Oh my Gosh, that is so much better! Are you all dry?"

"I'm getting there." I licked my lips at the sight of her. "The clothes seem to fit you okay."

"A little baggy, but they're doing the trick. Is it still raining?"

Tearing my eyes from her pale legs and bare feet, I glanced out the window. "I think it's supposed to last into the night."

"Ugh...I am so not looking forward to that walk back."

"You could wait it out here. I'm sure it will have cleared up by morning."

"You mean, like...you want me to spend the night?"

I shrugged. "There's always room on the futon."

She bit her lip at the expanse of cushion beside me. "I'm not so sure..."

"What's there not to be sure about? I've got heating - at least until Jeremy comes back. I've got blankets, snacks. Netflix. I don't have beer, but I'm pretty sure a phone call to a friend with a fake ID would take care of that."

She smirked. "I don't drink, and I'm pretty certain neither do you. Blankets and Netflix do sound nice, though..."

I patted the spot next to me on the futon. "Hop in if you're willing."

Meghan chewed her lip and watched the windows. "Well, maybe just for a little while. Okay?"

"Sure."

"Not like I'm going anywhere in that mess, anyway."

She climbed in next to me, and we stretched out facing the TV. We each grabbed a blanket as I fired up Netflix and started an episode of Friends. Before the first commercial break's blackout, our hips were touching, side by side, and we'd doubled up with the same blanket.

We laughed at the jokes that landed and cringed at the ones that hadn't aged well. I yawned and sneaked an arm around Meghan's shoulder. She giggled in time with the studio audience and eased her weight against me.

It was even sweeter than those nights in the library. More relaxed, more comfortable. A smile set my cheeks aflame. Within my belly, a warmth spread southward.

With my free hand, I tickled the faint, blonde hairs on her forearm. Not enough to make her laugh, just enough to make her smile. Before the end of the episode, I had finally gathered the stones to brush the bangs from her face and kiss her forehead.

Still smiling, Meghan turned to me with a slightly furrowed brow. I held her green eyes with my blue ones. I struggled to keep my lids from twitching. Gliding my palm across her round cheek, I cupped her chin in hand. I held my breath and eased towards her.

Meghan hesitated only a moment. She met me halfway and pressed her full lips to mine. It was sloppy, as wet as the storm we had just escaped. She clearly hadn't done this before, even if I had personally witnessed her masturbate to an impromptu, live sex show.

She swiped the back of her hand across her lips, already turning red of face. "Oh, wow!"

"Did you like it?"

"It felt funny. But, like, a good kind of funny? I kinda sorta wanna try it again."

I happily obliged. Still wet and sloppy, her lips met mine with increased force. I stroked back her hair with both hands, tugging only slightly on her locks. She wound her hands through my own. She undid the band from my ponytail and let the hair flow in a mess down my back. She kneaded my scalp with gentle knuckles as she learned to relax her jaw and open her lips a bit wider with each kiss.

I darted my tongue in and out of her mouth. She yelped and reeled back when I accidentally struck her teeth.

She giggled and scrubbed her lips with the back of her hand. "Sorry, Adam!"

"Don't worry about it. Do you need to stop?"

She thought about it. Then, no warning, she dived upon my mouth and shoved her tongue awkwardly inside. I rubbed the tip of my own against hers. Together, we figured out how to do it right. I flicked mine between her lips. I chased slow, tiny circles around the root of her tongue as her tip followed close behind.

Meghan's nails clawed at my back. She traced my spinal column to my shirttail, slipping one hand beneath it. She braced her palm against my contracting dorsal muscles.

I eased us both onto our sides. My fingertips danced between her shoulder blades to find that she wasn't wearing her bra. Her tongue twitched in nervous pleasure as I found the hem of the massive T-shirt that I had lent her. Square inch at a time, I refamiliarized myself with her tummy.

"I've missed feeling this," I murmured between kisses.

She opened herself to my touch. "I don't ever remember it feeling this nice..."

Just as warm and as smooth as I'd remembered. Her abs had tightened nicely since I'd last placed a palm upon them. She still possessed those marvelous, petite rolls of skin around the middle, so inviting to the touch. I ran a fingertip down the divot that the muscles had carved into her flesh until I found the cute pocket of her bellybutton.

Meghan said, "My turn." She giggled and ran both hands up the front of my shirt. Her touch sent even more blood to my groin and split her face in a Cheshire grin. "Mmm! Yummy!"

"The first time anyone's said that about me."

Her eyes crawled my torso. "It's all firsts for me tonight! I've never done anything, like, remotely close to this with anybody!"

"That day in the choir room, notwithstanding."

She grimaced. "Let's not go there, please?"

"Right, closing the door on it."

I crushed my lips back against hers. My hands scaled the flesh of her tummy. Her tongue went wild against mine when my fingertips found the orbs of her breasts. I rolled her onto her back and eased myself upright between her legs.

I pulled off my shirt over my head. She grabbed the tail of hers and lifted it to her chin, exposing her tits. Not particularly large, but full...tight...warm...beckoning me...

I charged right at them. I squeezed both breasts, wrapping my hands around each in turn. Sucking them, kissing them. My tongue circled the delicate bulbs of her erect nipples, tracing the constellation of freckles upon her pale flesh.

When I came up for air, I found my engorged penis eager to burst from my jeans. It had clear intentions of ripping through Meghan's shorts and disappearing up to the hilt into her vagina.

Meghan looked down and saw the bulge in the seat of my pants. I watched her eyes glaze with hunger. Her upper lip began to sweat. She'd seen it before. She'd seen it cumming, even as she came herself. Here it was again, ready for her.

I cupped her hips in my hands and eased my groin against hers. I grunted. She closed her eyes and let her jaw sag. Even through our clothes, I could feel the wet heat of her pussy. The pressure of my cock seemed to turn on a faucet down there.

I gave her a few playful thrusts, relishing even this minor friction. How would this compare to her cousin fucking my anus? Groaning and wheezing and spurting inside me as I coated the floor and Meghan gushed in her pants behind us...

No, no, that's right, I wasn't supposed to bring that up. I stayed in the present moment, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and easing them slowly down her hips.

Meghan's eyes bolted open. "Okay, okay, wait!" She snatched my forearms. "Please! Stop!"

I froze. "What's wrong?"

"I don't...I don't want to do that!"

My shoulders sagged. "No?"

Her lip quivered. "I just...don't feel...ready...yet?"

"Are you sure?" I draped a hand over her vagina. Pleasure flashed through her eyes as I eased my thumb against the moistened slit. "Your cunt seems to beg to differ."

She cringed. "Don't call it that."

"Sorry, I won't." I removed my hand. "I've got a condom, if that's -"

"That's - no. I'm sorry, that's not it."

"Is it because I fucked your cousin?"

In her eyes, discomfort usurped pleasure. "It's several things. David's one of them. Church is another."

I sighed on instinct.

"Well, it is!" she said. "I'm sorry, but Church is still a major part of my life! I've still got to, like, reconcile my actions with it, no matter how bad I want to do all this stuff!" She straightened her hair. "Look, don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed everything we've been doing here tonight. Like, really enjoyed. But I just don't, like..."

"You don't want to fuck me."

"It's just going too far, too fast for me. You know the trouble I have even...doing things to myself. To do full-on 'do it' with another person...?" Her entire face became a frown. "I'm sorry."

With a groan, I collapsed onto my back next to her. My cock remained standing like some sad, bent obelisk. Goddamn it. My balls were going to rupture internally before too long.

"I'm sorry, Adam..." Face to the ceiling, Meghan lowered the shirt just enough to conceal her breasts. She couldn't help but play with her nipples through their covering. "Look, maybe we could just keep making out?"

I grunted without commitment.

"Or...we could try...other things...? As long as we, like, kept our pants on...?"

"Like what? You want me to dry-fuck you?"

"Well, that, or..." An evil grin enveloped her Christian face. "Okay, this is gonna sound really weird? But I've got an idea."

"I'm up for it." I flicked my clothed erection. "Literally."

"Okay, ease up right next to me."

I obeyed, remaining flat on my back and pressing my shoulder against hers. I turned my head and watched Meghan lick her fingertips. She ran them from her sternum down the slight split of her abs to the waistline of the gym shorts. The hand disappeared beneath in search of her clit. She closed her eyes and murmured to let me know when she'd found it.

I laid a flat palm upon her tummy and tried to join the fun. I lighted my pinky upon the first, damp clump of her pubic hair when she used her free hand to jerk me out of her panties.

"You do yours and let me do mine," she said.

I sighed. "Seriously?"

"Yes!" She spoke between stunted gasps. "Just, like...mmm...trust me, Adam...Please! Just...start - Ahh! Start...doing...your...self!"

With the hand farthest from her, I reached for my erection.

"Other hand!" she more wheezed than said.

With the one nearest her, I slipped into my jeans and grabbed the base of my cock. I stroked it lightly, slowly, careful not to bruise myself without lube.

Meghan humped upwards against her wrist. With a quivering jaw, she seemed to bite chunks out of the air. Once she found a good rhythm, she grabbed my free arm and placed it upon the wrist of her play-hand. Then, her own free hand seized the wrist of the arm pumping my dick.

So, non-direct sexual contact was a turn-on for her. Something to get her off while keeping her virginity intact. The more I thought about it, the more it started to work for me, too.

"Damn, that feels good!" I moaned, only playing it up a little for her benefit. From the crazy sounds she was making, it seemed to work.

Was this how she felt that day in the choir room? Straining upright against the wall, digging around in her warm hole as she watched David pump his seed into me? Racked with religious guilt but compelled by nature, finding the only compromise available between the two extremes? Weeping not just from jealously but because somehow that compromise wasn't quite enough to satisfy either side?

Maybe that was the case back in the church basement. But not this time. Not in the warmth of my dorm room. No more post-orgasm guilt and shame for Meghan. I promised myself that I'd never let her cry like that again.

Meghan's fingernails dug into my forearm. She was getting close. I stroked the tight ring of flesh beneath the head of my cock to catch up. I turned my face to her. She panted and strained towards her imminent climax. She fucked her hand, her ass slamming against the futon with each gyrating thrust of her hips. She was going to squirt, alright. But she wasn't going to do it alone.

Without breaking the pretzel-like connection we had made of our arms, I clamped my lips against hers. She turned her head and started Frenching me, already more skilled than when we'd first started, half an hour before. We relaxed into each other's lips and each other's hands. No fears, no apprehensions, no guilt or shame.

She gasped a scream into my opened mouth. Her pelvic muscles spasmed and drew her thighs together. I felt the orgasm rock her body, hardening her abs and sending shudders through her arms.

I slathered the head of my cock with pre-cum. "Keep fucking going!" I told her as I choked the life out of myself. My wrist thrashed my swollen balls.

Meghan chanted in tongues as her hand tried to cut off all circulation to my arm.

"Don't stop!" I screamed. "Don't stop until the futon breaks!"

She kept at herself. Grinding her clit. Stroking the gushing lips of her pussy. The salty perfume of her ejaculate already filling the room. She humped and fingered herself, her laughing, gasping mouth happily insane against my own. She came again and again, orgasm chasing orgasm, shooting electric tremors through her quaking body.

Then, I was cumming, too, groaning against her, my eyes flashing blind with pleasure. Sperm exploded from my cock, squeezing my shaft from the inside out, coating the seat of my jeans and rolling down the crack of my ass with a few delicious drops being swallowed by my pulsating anus.

We collapsed into duel heaps and gulped for air. Some of my semen had shot up onto the back of Meghan's hand. Absent-mindedly, she wiped the cooling jism against her throbbing abs.

I clamped my lips against the drying seed and lapped it up. I stuck the fingers of her play-hand into my mouth and sucked it free of her juices.

Meghan tittered as I rolled over and positioned myself between her legs. I brushed some misbehaving strands of hair from my eyes and brought my face to the level of her crotch. "Mmm, tasty!" I murmured, completely drawn in by her smell.

I ran a hand beneath her buttocks, pausing at the crack of her ass. The entire seat of the gym shorts was soaked. The ejaculate had leaked down her legs and onto the futon itself. I couldn't wait to bury my face into the cushion's stain and inhale deeply, stroking myself off to the memory of what we'd just done. But for now, I had the real thing. I intended not to waste it.

Between her legs, I watched Meghan's face. Sleepy-eyed, she smiled at me with mild puzzlement. "Our pants are still on," I said. "No crime done."

Eyes locked, I kissed her damp, swollen pussy through the shorts. Her southern lips met me perpendicularly. I flicked my tongue at the forbidden crevice, making her squirm and giggle all over again. I smooched it once more for good luck. Then, Meghan grabbed my shoulders and pulled me atop her.

Even with her salty taste slathered across my mouth and my own swallowed sperm not long gone, she accepted my lips back against hers.

I rolled Meghan on top of me and held her close. I pulled her shirt back up and flattened her heaving breasts against my chest. Our flesh, hot and sticky with our bodily fluids, became one in the post-orgasm bliss. I allowed her no escape, nowhere to cower with religious shame and make this evening anything other than beautiful.

The rain pounded against the windows as Meghan giggled and kneaded my scalp and kept repeating, "Thank you, Adam! Thank you, Adam!" I kissed her breasts and sucked her neck, and bit by bit, I convinced her to stay the night with me.

She didn't cry.