Coquine

The party was supposed to be Moulin Rouge themed. John and Justin had never seen Moulin Rouge, but they figured it would break down like most college parties do: guys in ties, girls looking slutty. They almost didn't go, it was supposed to rain that night and they had plenty of studying to do. Still, since they knew the hosts, the beer would be free and that was plenty to justify anything. Justin brought his girlfriend Tammy along, she showed up at their apartment in a corset. John answered the door.

"Damn girl, corsets tonight?" He tried not to stare too long, Justin was his bud but a girl that gorgeous was always liable to suck you in with a glance if you weren't careful.

"Duh, it's a Moulin rouge party!" She kicked her hip out and pouted. He tried not to faint.

"Holy shit, if that's what they wear, I might actually have to watch it." Justin came out of the other room.

"Yikes babe, I like that...you guys ready?"

The party was ridiculous, people screaming and beer spilling, and Michael Jackson on the stereo. As expected, the girls were all in corsets and fishnets, grinding on each other and acting stupid. They found the keg, made their round of hellos to the crowd and settled into a corner, halfway between the dancefloor and the beerpong table. Justin and Tammy tried to look like they wanted to talk to other people for at least five minutes before they had found a corner, gazing soulfully into each others eyes in between bouts of heated making out. John was used to it. He sighed and made his way over to the beerpong list. He grabbed the pen to write his name on the board.

"Hey, I've already got next." John looked around. To his right was a blonde girl, poking her beer cup towards him. "Easy asshole, I said I've already got next." She was probably 5'4 with big blue eyes and soft white shoulders. Her breasts were pushed up by a black lace corset which was opened a few clasps to show the curve of her pale cleavage, her ass wrapped in a tight black skirt above fishnets and black heels. John recognized her from somewhere.

"Do I know you?" She leaned in to hear.

"What?" He could smell just a trace of alcohol. Such a turn on.

"Did we have a class together or something? Maybe Reichart?"

"Oh shit!" she squealed, "Yeah, yeah, Renaissance Drama!"

"Christ don't remind me." Now he remembered her, Jenn, the girl who always came in late in sweats. It was a tiny class at 8 am, so nobody was on time much, but she was always late. John had never paid her much mind, except that she said smart things occasionally.

"Let's go get another drink," she said, forgetting all about beer-pong.

They sat on the couch on the wraparound porch, they were alone except for a cluster of guys smoking a cigarette. John was sitting upright, Jenn was slouching against the couch, with her legs crossed in his direction. They talked about the class they had together.

"God, what a waste of a semester, right?" She tapped her legs back and forth.

"Honestly I don't know," John said, "I only paid attention when he would start to compare things to Seinfeld."

"Which was like every fucking day! God, how many times do we need to hear that Ben Jonson would have liked Seinfeld? Or that Aphra Behn would have been more into Friends?" She took a deep drink from her solo cup.

"What did you write your final paper on?" he said.

"Oh, some bullshit about the role of the coquette." She shifted and threw her legs over John's. He saw just a flash of her upper thighs, the fishnet material hugging them tightly, and just a glance of what looked like a little triangle of white panties further up her crotch. "I like to think I'm a little bit of a coquette myself." She batted her eyelashes.

"Oh?"

"Well, my French TA told me I was a coquine. Which I guess is sort of the same thing..." She twirled her hair, staring at John with her lips slightly parted.

"What's the difference?"

"Well a coquine is just a French word for a girl who really likes sex." It started to drizzle outside, quickening to a light shower. John tried to think of what to say.

"Wow, that's a pretty fresh French TA you've got."

"Oh," she said matter of factly, "I am fucking him."

John tried to focus, to process what she just said. She's fucking him? What does that mean? That's pretty heavy. Not that he wasn't impressed, fucking a TA is the dream of every undergrad at one point or another. But why was she telling him? Was she dating this guy? Was she bullshitting? If so, why? Was she just trying to turn him on? It started to rain harder.

He must have been talking about something, on autopilot, but somewhere in the alcohol his trains of thought ran together and by the time he knew what was happening, he had leaned over and was kissing her.

She kissed him hungrily, immediately probing his mouth with her tongue. She tasted sweet and a little like cinnamon and nutmeg, the way John always found with girls who had been drinking. She turned her body toward him, extending her hand to his belt. She fumbled around until she found his bulge, which was quickly building up. He was just working a hand towards her corset when someone shouted:

"JENN!"

She pulled away and jumped up. "I'll be right back," she said, straightening her corset top.

John sunk back into the couch and closed his eyes, trying to pretend like he didn't hear the smoking guys laughing. He didn't know what to think. Justin came up, tapped him on the shoulder.

"Dude, who is that girl?"

"I don't know, I mean, I had a class with her..."

"Are you guys going to, like, have sex on this couch?"

"I don't know..."

"Well listen, see if she wants to go home with you, and maybe she can get us a ride home. I don't want to walk in this rain." He gestured off the porch where it was now pouring.

"That's what you're concerned about?" John laid back into the couch and covered his eyes with his hands. She probably wouldn't even come back.

"Dude here she comes, just fucking do it, ok? Tammy doesn't want to get wet."

Jenn slid back onto the couch with two fresh drinks, looking just as devilish as she had before.

"Sorry, that was my bitchy roommate," she said, handing him a drink. "She is always yelling at me for something."

Within minutes they were back at it, kissing wildly, John running his fingers through her hair and pushing her onto his mouth. She grabbed for his bulge again, rubbing in circles. He reached for her left breast, massaging it over the stiff fabric over her corset. She opened her legs and pushed against his thigh, biting his lower lip. He worked his other hand up her skirt, playing with the diamonds in her stockings, wishing he could just feel the inside of her smooth thighs.

He was just working up to her panties when he must have grabbed too hard with his hand on her breast and he felt the corset slip. One of the smoking guys hooted:

"Oh shit, her boob!"

Her hand was like lighting coming back up to conceal her breast, but the corset had lost its tension and the laces in the back sagged and came untied.

"Oh shit," she said, breaking off her kiss and looking around frantically, her cheeks turning a deep red. "Why the fuck did you do that?"

"I didn't mean to, fuck, I just..."

"Jesus, come on, we have to get it fixed or else this whole party is going to see my tits." Honestly, John was a little amazed that she had that much modesty left.

They got up and walked inside, Jenn holding firmly onto the front of the corset, John holding onto the laces in the back so that they didn't unthread anymore. They walked up the stairs and found an empty bedroom.

"Jesus, what were you thinking," she said angrily, "making out wasn't enough, you had to try to get me naked in front of everyone?" Her chest heaved.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to, it just..."

"Just shut the fuck up and try to tie this thing up." She still sounded angry, but was smiling a little. As he approached her, she dropped the corset, letting it fall to her waist. Her breasts were small but not tiny, probably a B cup. Without the corset to push them together, they hung gracefully on her chest, two white globes that ended in pale pink nipples that pointed up exactly so they matched her smile. They were a little puffy, and rapidly hardening in the cool room.

"Make it up to me," she said, giving her shoulders a shake that sent a delicious jiggle through her tits. John approached, bent down and started kissing her left breast, tracing his fingers on the right. He kissed in a circle, out to the soft sides, around the overhang of the bottom, in the crevice between. Each kiss left a tiny indentation that rebounded almost immediately in her firm flesh. He held his mouth over her nipple, breathing heavily. She shuddered as he took it in his mouth and sucked gently. He ran his tongue around her areola in towards her nipple, which was now like a little eraser tip. He switched to her left breast and pinched the nipple that was still slick with his saliva with his free hand. Jenn arched her neck back and sighed.

With his free hand he slid up between her legs and under her skirt. He ran his hands over her ass, feeling the same firm flesh from her breasts under the fishnets. He loved thongs. He rubbed her pussy from behind, reaching through her ass cheeks to stroke the satin between her legs. He could tell she was blazing hot and dripping wet, but he could navigate her stockings to pull her panties to the side. He moved his hand back around front and settled for rubbing her clit through her panties, the satin getting slick with her juices and providing an interesting friction on her button.

He kept at work on her breasts, drawing his finger back and forth on her pussy. She was breathing heavily, her tits drawing to and from his mouth as he licked and sucked. He picked up the speed with his finger and she fell back on the bed behind her. He leaned down further, biting one of her nipples between his front teeth and pressing his fingers harder into her snatch.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck." She said. He rubbed. Her hips bucked against his hand. He sucked. Her nipple pressed further into his mouth. She moaned, her shoulders tensing, and she bucked her hips hard, once, twice, three times. She laid back and whimpered. He wiped off her chest and brought his damp finger up to his lips for a quick taste. She sat up and pulled the corset up over her chest.

"Ok, good boy. You're forgiven. Now tie this for me..."

Someone knocked. "Who's in there??" Jenn quickly tried to fix her hair before a girl burst in.

"Who are you," she looked confused, sloshing a beer."

"Who are you?" Jenn asked.

"This is my room."

"Oh. Well, we're just trying to fix my shirt, do you think you can tie this."

The girl looked at Jenn, and then at John and back again. Surely she could smell the sex in the room. "Ok," she said, "let me try." She tied it on the first try.

"Thanks, you're a savior," Jenn said, giving the girl a hug. We rushed back out into the hall.

"Fuck that was close." John's blood was still rushing. Apparently so was Jenn's, because she pushed him against a wall and started kissing again.

"JENN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" a shrill voice screamed. John jumped out from the wall. Jenn bolted into the bathroom, leaving John to fend for himself. The screamer was another girl, taller, brunette. Pretty enough, but clearly not interested in compliments. She leaned into John.

"You leave her the fuck alone, she's got a boyfriend!"

"The French TA?" John asked sheepishly.

"What? What fucking French TA? No, just...fuck you! She's got a boyfriend. Quit messing with her!"

"Sorry, geez, I didn't know."

"Well now you fucking know! Stop!" She stomped back down the stairs.

The bathroom door cracked once the coast was clear. "Psst, in here!" she whispered, sounding like a conspiratorial cartoon character. John slid into the bathroom. Jenn locked the door, and started kissing again. John pushed her off.

"Whoa, what's this about a boyfriend first?"

"Oh for chrissakes, he's only sort of a boyfriend." She tried to kiss him again, grabbing at his neck. He pushed her hands away.

"Sort of? What is a sort of boyfriend?"

She tried a different tack, falling to her knees and undoing his belt, button and fly, reaching into his pants for his swelling cock.

"Honestly babe," she purred, "If I don't care, I don't see why you should."

With her hand rubbing up and down his shaft, it all seemed ok again. She pulled him out of his boxers, balls and all, letting his pants fall to the floor. She ran her tongue up and down his shaft, squeezing his balls in her fingers. He could already feel the cum starting to build, his head swelling and his shaft becoming rock solid. She kissed the head, licking off a shining drop of precum, and then took it into her mouth. She rocked her lips down around the base of his head, swirling it with her tongue. She pulled off and plunged back on, taking an inch or two in her mouth. John fell back against the wall, banging his shoulder on the towel rack. He didn't care.

She drew her mouth up and down his penis, taking another inch each time, until she had nearly four inches in her mouth, her lips straining to keep the fat part of his cock in without choking. She pushed a little harder, inching even more in.

Someone yelled from outside "Hurry the fuck up, I've gotta pee!"

Not missing a beat, she pulled her mouth off his cock and said, sounding surprisingly pathetic, "Ok, hold on, I'm a little sick right now." She made a few little gagging noises.

"Oh shit sorry, I'll go piss somewhere else. No worries."

She smiled up at John and went back to work on his cock. He tapped her head.

"Stop."

"Stop?"

"Yeah, we don't have much time." She looked disappointed, but he walked over and closed the toilet lid. "Bend over that."

She smiled, understanding. She braced herself with her hands on the toilet, her head over the tank while her ass stuck up over the bowl. John grabbed her hips and slid her skirt up to her hips. She spread her legs and leaned down further, giving him a perfect view of her cherry round ass, straining at the fishnets. He could see her panties were already stained with her cum from earlier. He thought for a second, and then grabbed two opposite strands of the stockings and pulled, tearing a window to her cunt. He pulled aside her panties and could see her fat lips poking out toward him in a pout that screamed to be fucked. He was dizzy with her smell. He took his cock and rubbed it on her opening. She sighed and leaned further into the toilet, her cheek pressing into the wall.

He put the thick head of his cock on her glistening slit, keeping the thong pulled to the side. He pushed and her lips spread, hugging his cock as tightly as a condom would have. He pushed further into her, and she moaned a deep guttural "unhhhhh" as he pushed the thickest part of himself into her. He pulled the thong away further to see her inner lips pouting in and out as he thrust himself in, revealing a tight little asshole. He licked his spare thumb and put a little pressure on her ass as he pistoned into her.

He alternated harder thrusting with long, slow movements, angling his hips upward and downward to draw the tip of his cock over her gspot. She shifted to bring her hand to her clit to rub herself. He popped just the tip of his thumb into her ass, bringing it in and out to stretch her tightness. She squealed and pressed her hips back, taking his full cock and most of his thumb.

"Holy fucking shit you feel good deep. So fucking deep. Fuck me deep, please please please."

He obliged, moving his thumb so that he could grab both of her hips with his hands and push into her with all his strength. He fucked her long and slow and hard, drawing out slowly and pushing back in fast, building up a steady rhythm. The tank of the toilet banged up against the wall. Her pussy was hugging him, holding him, stroking him, sucking him, squeezing him. Every time he thrusted he felt like his cock got a little bigger, a little harder, and her cunt kept tightening against his shaft, making it more and more intense.

Finally, almost unable to control himself, he started pumping in a quicker rhythm. His eyes were closed, he was lost in her smell, the heat of her wetness, the slap of his balls near where her fingers were rubbing her clit. He thought about the couch, about her groping his crotch, about how those guys saw her tit, about how her rigid nipples felt as he squeezed them between his lips and tongue. He thought about that quiet girl in sweats in class that he was pounding his cock into, how she might have a boyfriend and might be fucking her French TA. He thought he could feel the cum bubbling in his balls, creeping up to his shaft, ready to spurt into her if he could just thrust a little harder, a little faster...

"JENN ARE YOU IN THERE?" A voice from outside. John continued to fuck her, he was so close.

"JENN!!!"

She moaned again, half screaming, rubbing her clit furiously. He thrusted harder, pulling himself all the way out and pounding back in.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

He felt himself closer, closer. Her juices slurped as the toilet kept knocking on the wall. He felt her pussy contract, squeezing the cum right to the tip of his cock. It contracted again, again. He saw stars. He could hear it raining outside. The roommate was pounding on the door. He let go. He buried himself deep, pumping sperm into her. She lay spent against the toilet. He pulled out, zipped up, even though his boxers were going to be sticky. She sat up. She was flushed, sweating.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice catching. She smoothed her skirt, messed up her hair even more.

"PLEASE OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!"

Jenn walked over and opened the door, her roommate barged in.

"What is going on in here?" She was frantic.

"Sorry," Jenn sounded pathetic again. "Sorry, I had to puke and John was holding my hair...he's sweet."

The roommate softened. "Oh baby, I'm sorry." She looked grudgingly at John. "Thanks, but you can get the fuck out of here now."

Jenn winked. "Ok, sure," John said.

He walked down the stairs in a daze, Justin grabbed him at the bottom.

"Where the fuck have you been? Did you get us a ride?"

"What? No, no, she already left. She was probably too drunk to drive us anyway."

Justin looked out at the pouring rain. "Fuck. Well, I guess we better bite the bullet."

They walked home, Justin and Tammy yelling loudly about how pissed they were that they didn't get a ride. John didn't give a shit. He just let the rain run down his face and thanked God for coquines.