College Chronicles Ep. 18 Pt. 02

I swivelled my head to find Dawn was also watching Natalie's performance, but with less intensity and more curiosity. Her mouth was open, and when she licked her lips it occured that she might be looking more at Marcus' cock. I couldn't help feel sorry for the poor girl. You don't know what you don't know. Then Natalie looked up, catching us staring in what she thought was admiration.

"C'mon bitches! Come suck a big rockstar cock..."

I scoffed quietly, flipping my hair and looking away, wanting to dismiss the 'rockstar' and his boring dick but knowing it wasn't the time and not quite that confident in myself. But Dawn had been swayed, stood slowly like she was entranced and stumbled across the room to Marcus, where she knelt before him. I couldn't watch as she leaned forward, and turned my head away to the last boy.

He had a way too large smile, but was moving too quickly, eyes darting around the room with frantic energy, legs jittering and hands idly spinning his phone. Of course, he didn't stop talking, and just pivoted to me, noticing I wasn't engaged in anything.

"Wow! You don't expect a party to go like this! So... this is getting a little bit awkward, isn't it?"

He was talking just to talk, seemed like he was a confused as I was. Then he looked over to me, mortified before he even tried his stumbling, halting, unfinished question.

"Uhm... do you... Heh... Uh... Wanna... Uhh..."

There wasn't a coherent question in the stumbling attempt, but I knew what he wanted. 'Sami, looks like everyone else is, want to hook up?' It was a gross sentiment, offensive that he would even ask like that. But his awkward, stumbling self-consciousness was almost pathetic enough to be endearing. Almost.

It just wasn't right. That wasn't how my night was supposed to end, it wasn't where I was supposed to be, who I was supposed to be with. I wasn't supposed to be awkwardly propositioned by some loser just because there was some weird orgy happening in the room! I looked at Marcus' stupid smile, Nat and Dawn giving him worship so unearned it made me sick. I looked at Gemma and her guy, dry humping like teenagers. I looked at the two remaining guys, one beating his meat through his jeans, the other looking at me helplessly, too stoned to figure it out.

It wasn't right, so I'd change it.

I didn't respond to the pathetic boy. I'd had enough. I'd had it with Nat and her hypocritical judgment. Fuck her. I'd had it with Dawn and Gemma, their anti-sorority bullshit, their leeching presence. Fuck them. I'd had it with Marcus and these lesser boys who tried to have power over me. Fuck them! They weren't shit. And while I was at it I'd had it with Jaxx, who hung over my entire night like a looming cloud. Fuck him fuck him fuck him!

In cold clarity, I stood from the couch and took a few steps to the door. At first they were unsteady, but when I grabbed the knob, it was with confidence. Someone called out something as I left, but I didn't pay attention, leaned into the noises of the party in the rest of the house.

Working my way down the stairs, I could tell it was getting late by the deteriorating state of partygoers. It was okay; it would make my goal easier. I moved with purpose, searching from room to room, looking anywhere I could hear people. I knew what I wanted. Who I wanted.

Then I found him, stumbled over him easy as that. Like it was meant to be. He was sitting on a couch in a mostly deserted room; there was a couple making out on a chair on the corner, and he was in the center, smoking a joint with two other boys on a long couch.

I don't know what came over me, but it felt like I was possessed. With that supernatural control I strolled in and up to my singer and plucked the joint from his fingers. I stared the confused boy dead in his wide-eyes, ignoring his two friends, and took a long, calm pull from the joint.

"Wha—... Uhh... Hi?"

He was so cute. He still wore the bandana headband (keeping his longish black hair out of his eyes) as well as the black skinny jeans, but he'd lost the suit jacket for a black tee with some band logo on it. He was relaxed back into the couch, and I couldn't tell if it was his room or not. When I exhaled, I did it right into his face, blowing a big cloud of smoke that obscured me for a second. I used it as cover to boldly step forward and sit down in his lap. He was waving the smoke away and jumped in surprise when I made contact.

"Hi."

I flipped my hair in his face, playing with a strand around my finger as I batted my eyelashes and made my best doe eyes at him. I had been practicing all night; that was the moment to deploy my seductive powers to their fullest. His nostrils flared as he took a deep inhale of me, and I wondered for a second if he smelled my perfume, or rank sweat. When his surprise turned to a soft smile, I knew I had nothing to worry about.

"What's your name, gorgeous?"

He was smooth like I hoped, pivoting quickly out of his confusion and into control. The compliment didn't hurt either.

"Saaamiii..."

I backed off my aggressive approach, drawing out my name childishly, playing a little coy through avoiding his eyes in pretending to pick some fluff off his shirt. Then I placed my hand flat on his chest, and meet his gaze again under long lashes.

"What's yours?!"

His eyes were the color of burnished gold, and glowed with a liveliness that was reassuring.

"Harry."

I barely gave him a second to speak. Yes, I wanted him to be in control, but I knew where I wanted things to go, and I was impatient.

"Harry, I loved your set. Misery Business is like, my favorite song ever."

"Yeah, I saw you dancing."

"Good. Do you live here?"

I was being impish, my 'good' an attempt to tell him it was all for him. Then his friends suddenly intruded; just grabbing the joint and leaving. And of course each had to roughly congratulate him, a punch in the arm and a rough touselling of his hair their way of teasing him for getting laid. After they left, he returned to my question.

"Uhhh... I live in the house. This isn't my room."

Exactly what I wanted to hear. I looked around; we were the only people left in the room, aside from the couple making out, who I assumed included the room's occupant. I turned back to Harry and leaned in, putting a hand on his arm to steady myself, getting so close to his ear that our cheeks were almost touching. That time I heard him breathe, knew he was taking a deep inhale of me, knew he would like it as I whispered hot words in his ear.

"I wanna suck your cock."

I leaned back with a little smile, like I'd just promised him something totally innocent. God, the look on his face was just so cute; Bewildered confusion, as if he'd been offered a million dollars by a stranger on the street— surely it was too good to be true? But I wasn't, and I didn't want him to wonder. I was going to prove it.

"Show me your room?"

I put bubbly, girly energy into my voice, like I wasn't about to suck the soul out of his body. He was still shook from my whisper, by me in general. He took a couple seconds to respond.

"Uhh, yeah..."

I stood daintily from his lap and waited till he rose, then grabbed one of his forearms with both of my hands and pulled him to the door. In the hallway, I threaded my fingers through his and waited for him to lead the way. He was so tall, with a long stride that made me need to step quickly to keep up. It was probably my imagination, but it felt like all eyes were on us; a beautiful boy leading a beautiful girl to the end of the night.

He took me down the staircase to another floor, and then along a side hallway, all the way down to the last door. Outside, he let go of my hand to fish keys out of his pocket, but as he went to put one in the lock, he hesitated.

"Hey, look..."

He turned slowly, mouth moving like he was chewing the thought before it became words.

"...I have a girlfriend..."

"Oh..."

My heart went into freefall— everything was ruined! But I caught myself. That wasn't necessarily true; he had brought me back to his room, so he either totally forgot about his girl until that second, or he wanted me... Or maybe she was open-minded... I could share my prize, if that's what it took. I managed to turn my disappointment to hope before it showed on my face.

"...Where is she? Let's get her!"

He paused again at that, with a strange look. I couldn't tell if it was surprise at how quickly I'd agreed to a threesome, or at how unbothered I was by the fact he was cuffed; or maybe not surprise, something more complex... Maybe he was judging me for both of the above. My anxiety slipped in, began to erode the foundations of confidence. Would he not want me anymore?

"She's not here."

I was being ridiculous, of course. Whatever his look was went back to a more neutral expression, and he turned to unlock and open the door, stepping across the threshold as he spoke. I was a little stunned, stayed in the hallway a second mouth gaping, before I quick-stepped inside, shutting the door behind myself. My question rang out loudly in his suddenly quiet room.

"She didn't come to see you play?"

"No... Sorry... I don't really want to talk about her..."

I did really feel bad for him; I could tell from his tone that her absence was a symptom of some larger issue in the relationship. But I had enough complex interpersonal drama in my life; I didn't need to know his.

"Okay!..."

Despite my sympathy, his relationship troubles were good news, and I couldn't stop a slow, devilish smile from spreading. It was a smile stolen directly from Cindy, because I knew what she would do in my place. He might be in a relationship, but I'd been clear as I could be, and he still brought me back. For that night, I had him to myself.

"...Put on some music?"

"Sure."

I walked over to his love seat and fell into it, feeling very at home. As he went over to his computer, I took a chance to look around the room.

It was small, but cozy. There was a closet overflowing with poorly organized clothing immediately to our left, and on the right the room opened up with the small loveseat against the wall, a low bed against the far wall, and a desk and computer poised to look out a window, opposite. As expected, the walls were covered in band posters, and a guitar stood on a stand in the center of the room.

When music started playing through speakers set up around the room, I was surprised it wasn't thumping dance music or rap. That was basically all I heard with Jaxx and Cindy, but I should have expected more taste from a musician. It was slow, with acoustic guitars and crooned lyrics. I didn't really care— I wasn't going to be listening much... but it sounded sad. I felt a pang as I watched him hunch over his desk; he was such a beautiful poetic soul, a romantic tortured by toxic love (or at least I imagined). The more complex I thought he was, the more I wanted him to enjoy me, free of guilt and complication. I wanted to be easy for him.

When he turned he was fine, had a little grin for me in addition to the joint he'd been rolling on his desk. I patted the seat next to me, demanding him quickly— I wanted to smoke something else. But he wandered over slow, lighting the joint and taking a draw, stumbling a little.

He took another pull as he sat, and when the joint was out of his mouth I pounced, kissing him hard and passionately, inhaling the smoke out of his lungs. He wasn't built like Jaxx, so it was interesting climbing his wiry frame, feeling a broad manly chest that wasn't quite as inherently violent. And I did climb him, slowly slipping one leg over his lap until I was straddling him, sliding my arms around his neck. He reached out to hold me in return, one hand under my ass, cupping one cheek, while the other held the joint.

But I wasn't content to just make out. I could feel his tool stiffening in his jeans, wanted to see what he was working with. So I started sliding down, until he was sat all the way forward to keep his mouth against mine as my tongue danced around his and my knees made contact with the floor. That was enough, and I lightly pushed him away. He sat back exactly how I wanted and shook his head, clearing cobwebs I knew I caused.

"Holy shit... You're fucking wild..."

Wild? I liked the sound of that. I was definitely feeling wild, tried to channel it into my wide doe eyes as I looked up and stroked his thighs over his jeans. I wanted to be innocent and filthy at the same time. I wanted him to take it out for me and give me permission to be his slut.

"Mmmmm... Please..."

I didn't want to tell him what to do, but I also wanted him to take control, tell me what to do. My frustrated indecision came out as a half-growled rumble of need then a whined plea. I hoped he would get the message if I rubbed my face against his crotch and made my eyes as big as I could.

The unsubtle approach worked, and he began to unbuckle his belt as I licked my lips hungrily. I wasn't ready for what was revealed when he finally pulled down his pants. I realized how spoiled I was by Jaxx, was trying to consciously fight the tendency to compare all other boys to him. Particularly concerning dick size; it just wasn't fair. I knew I needed to expect more average results if I didn't want to be disappointed, like I had been with Jake. It was called average for a reason. And after seeing how Dawn had been entranced by Marcus' thoroughly regular penis, I was thinking maybe I just needed to learn to settle for a little less.

But it was a lesson I would learn another time, because Harry was packing heat. I just wasn't prepared for him to be so over-qualified! I could tell even before he lowered his underwear, saw his thick rod tenting the fabric of its confines. I gasped at the bulge, and when he pulled it totally free my preconceived notion of what the night would be totally exploded.

"Ohh fuck..."

He was big, and so thick; wider around than my wrist, and I compared the two myself. It was dark like it had been out tanning, and his black pubic hair was trimmed down but not gone, a short patch of coarse fur at the base. I took his shaft in one and giggled when it twitched, then tapped his head in my other palm, marvelling at its heavy solidity. His balls hung low below, one just in front of the other, and I lowered a hand to grasp them, tumble them lightly across my small, pale fingers. I savored the heat and weight, already debating where I wanted him to cum.

"... It's so big!! ..."

And I wasn't lying, though I looked at it theatrically for a moment, letting my wide eyes go wider, opening my mouth suggestively, wrapping one hand as much around as it could and waggling his baseball bat back and forth. Then I looked up and met his golden eyes. He was watching me with a cloudy, dreamy look, and I could tell that he was more than just high on drugs. He was high on me. And so was I; turning yet another hard, full grown man into a soft-eyed boy who could only watch my sexy nymph-like body play with his delicate parts and hope he didn't do anything to ruin his luck.

In that moment, with his gorgeous bright eyes looking down at me with that helpless, besotted expression, I felt even worse for him, and more confused. What was his stupid girlfriend thinking? Handsome, talented, complex, emotional and HUNG, and she still wasn't there for him? Her loss was my gain, and my stupid drunk mind couldn't help but refer back to that injustice.

"If I was your girlfriend, I'd never miss your show."

I said it with full eye-contact, hoping he could tell I meant it. And without giving him time to be angry for bringing up his girlfriend again, I leaned forward and swallowed most of his cock.

With his hard warm length spreading my lips, I closed my eyes and moaned. It was perfect in every way. Easy to lick and drool all over. Big enough for two hands and a bit more, or for both to be overwhelmed, his balls to overflow one small hand and for my other to pump his shaft furiously. When I finally pulled back it was only to breathe and spit a big gob of saliva before forming a vacuum seal around his crown. My spit ran down his blade onto my hands, and I shivered, looking at my pretty, girly, pink nail-polished fingers working filthy messy magic with his gross package.

I looked up with my lips around his tip, we made eye contact again, and that time he was very much awake.

"Fuck... You're so fucking pretty..."

I blushed harder than I had in a while, face going so red hot I needed to let his cock out of my mouth to breathe. I wasn't pretty, with drool dripping from my chin and my makeup starting to become a mess. Sexy, slutty, or maybe even seductive I could see. But the fact he called me pretty... And I could tell he meant it.

I'd show him pretty.

Still licking and sucking his head, I released my grips on his cock and balls, reaching up for him. It took a second, but with a little grasping motion I communicated I wanted his hands. When he lowered them, I guided him to my head, making sure he took firm holds at the base of my pigtails. And then he was in control; exactly how I wanted, using my soft, submissive nature to ironically put him in control.

He got my message, used my hair as a handle to start fucking my face. But he was gentle; it was more like making love to my mouth, with slow drawn-out thrusts that moved his fat cock luxuriously into shallow areas of my throat. I loved it, obviously; his firm grip, being able to lick every inch, using both hands to work his balls. Part of me wanted him to really use my face, to fuck me hard and fast until I was heaving and drooling and choking... It didn't seem like his style, and I still had to leave his room at some point, so I resisted the desire to gag myself.

But eventually I got bored of his pace, and shook him off to work on his package as I pleased, alternating stroking, sucking, and burying my face in his heavy nutsack. He didn't argue, tucking his hands behind his head and closing his eyes to enjoy; his frequent groans urged me on, made me work harder. I popped his balls into my mouth, sucked them, popped them out and licked them for good measure before nuzzling against them to smell his sweaty musk. I beat off his baseball bat cock with two hands, then let go and tried to stay connected with just my tongue as I licked it from the base up, giggling at its swaying back and forth as if evading me. I grabbed his base with one hand and thumped his heavy log against my face, then my forehead to compare how his cock was longer than my entire head.

Harry had stamina, and when I was truly tired of sucking his cock, knees hands and jaw all getting sore, I knew the time had come.

The hard part.

I'd known it would come all night, but had done a great job of denying it, even when Nat reminded me. I wanted him to fuck me, which meant he was going to discover my secret. I'd known the whole time, from the moment I decided I wanted to have fun and get fucked. I'd considered trying to be sneaky; saying I was on my period again, or that I was saving my 'virginity' for marriage... But I was afraid of what he might do if he found out I tricked him, so honesty seemed like the best policy... Up to the point of doing it.

"Uhm...",

I stopped, frowning with a little frustrated pout, angry at myself for not thinking of a better way to broach the subject earlier in the night. I still held onto his cock with my left hand, casually stroking while I thought about how to tell him, what to say.

"I want you to..."

I grasped for words, trying to find a better way to phrase it. But in the end, I blurted out the easy part.