Dana's Story Ch. 34-35

Not that it mattered.

She wrapped a hand around the base and her lips around the head.

"Oh yeah," Chet muttered. "That's it."

Dana grinned around her mouthful, pleased by his reaction. She used her tongue on him, provoking another enthusiastic response. She took him deeper, drew back, then deeper still. Soon she was sucking the entire length of him, pausing frequently to lick and caress the head.

Chet's hands settled on her head. "Oh yeah," he said repeatedly. "Just like that. Oh yeah...."

Dana pulled away to look up at him. "You like that?"

"Hell, yeah," Chet said approvingly. He shifted one hand to the back of her head. "Don't stop now," he added, pulling her closer again.

Dana hesitated for a moment, not liking his aggressive approach, but swallowed his cock again. He pressed her face close, until her nose bumped against his pubis. "Oh yeah," he crooned. "That's good. That's a good slut. Suck that cock!"

Dana pulled away despite the pressure of his hand.

"Don't do that," she said, giving him a sharp look. She wasn't sure if she meant his actions, his words, or both.

He looked annoyed for a moment. A moment later the glower vanished, replaced by a sheepish smile. "Sorry," he said. "I got carried away."

Dana almost bailed. This aggressive side of him might turn some women on, but she didn't care for it. She hoped he'd be more gentle now that she'd objected, and, well, she really wanted to get laid tonight and he was here, he was attractive, and he was just as eager for it as she was.

She resumed her blowjob. She concentrated on the head at first, but when Chet didn't try to push her again, she took that as a good sign. He placed his hands on her head again, but didn't try to force her again. She took him deeper inch by inch until she was swallowing the length of him.

He accompanied her efforts with plenty of groans expressing his pleasure. Dana sensed his growing arousal in the tension she felt in his hands, and the way his breathing grew louder, deeper, more ragged. Her desire grew stronger once more, buoyed by the thrill of giving him pleasure.

"Oh, yeah, bitch" he muttered. "Suck that cock, slut. Suck it good...."

Dana pulled back, planted a kiss on the tip, and stood up. The name-calling really didn't help. She was still aroused, but wanted to get on with it.

Chet was flushed and grinning, and his eyes were alight. He was keyed up and ready to fuck now. Dana could see it, and wanted to take advantage of it before her own arousal began to fade. She stepped into his arms to kiss him.

He turned his head at the last moment, burying his nose in the hair by her ear. He turned them both so she stood with her back to the counter. "I want to fuck you now, Dana," he breathed. Not really telling her anything she didn't already know.

"Me, too," she said. She turned her head to kiss him again, and again he moved to avoid it.

Chet hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her pants and crouched, yanking them down to her ankles, revealing the glistening lips of her pussy nestled in her pubic hair. He grinned and used a thumb to caress her clit--oh god, that felt good--before sliding two fingers into her pussy..

"Oh god," Dana moaned.

His fingers stroked back and forth several times. The sensation of being filled that way felt so good. Dana's legs spread as if of their own accord, and wobbled as well. She caught herself with her hands on the counter top, and knew she was looking at Chet with that look, the one Zoe and Randy had teased her about.

She wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him fucking her. There was nothing she wanted more in this moment. Her dismay when his fingers slid out of her, putting an end to the pleasure he was giving her, was short-lived.

Chet stood, devouring her with his eyes. In that moment, Dana knew she was seeing the same look on his face that he saw on hers. He stepped closer, between her spread legs. A moment later, Dana shuddered with pleasure as he drove himself to the hilt inside her.

Dana's cry of pleasure was matched by Chet's theatrical groan. Dana leaned against the counter, supporting her weight on her hands, scattering toiletries with a clatter. Chet leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, giving her a lazy grin. "God, that feels good."

"It really does," Dana agreed, grinning back at him.

He pulled back slowly, watching her face, gauging her response, before impaling her again just as deliberately. The slippery friction was deliciously exciting, and she could tell that he felt the same pleasure, and the shared experience softened her feelings toward him.

She leaned in to kiss him.

And once more he avoided it.

He pulled her close, so that her breasts were pressed to his chest, and lowered his head to nip at her neck. Dana shivered at the sensation, but she wondered about his unwillingness to kiss her now. Three times she'd attempted to kiss him, and each time he'd avoided it. Why?

It hadn't begun until she'd gone down on him. Was that it? She'd had his cock in her mouth, so now he refused to kiss her? Was he that--she didn't even know what to call it? Squeamish? Selfish?

Dana's thoughts scattered as the feeling of Chet's cock moving inside her took center stage. He continued to hold her close, thrusting his hips in long, firm strokes. Whatever his failings as a playmate, he was giving her what she'd come for. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the pleasure she felt.

Dana wrapped her arms around his neck, her head resting against his shoulder. She didn't try to kiss him again. Chet's hold on her slackened and she was forced to lower her arms to support herself. He released her entirely now, squeezing and fondling her breasts as he continued fucking her.

His tempo quickened, his thrusts coming faster and getting shorter, his breathing louder and more ragged. Her own breathing grew faster, the rising tension she felt familiar and long-awaited, the achingly slow ascent before she plunged over the edge into ecstasy.

"Huh, huh, huh," Chet grunted. His hands tightened almost painfully on her breasts. "Ohhhh shit," he grunted. "Oh fuck!"

Dana opened her eyes, startled by his abrupt outburst. He was flushed and sweating, his body trembling with tension. He was obviously on the verge of orgasm, much sooner than she'd have liked. She was well short of her own climax.

"Don't stop," she whined, "not yet. Don't stop..."

But it was too late.

Chet buried himself inside Dana and went still, muscles rigid, save for throwing his head back, bellowing, "Yes! Goddamn! Ohhh fuck!"

She felt his cock throbbing inside her as he ejaculated, but otherwise he didn't move. Then he fell silent and the tension seeped out of his body. The crushing grip on her breasts relaxed. His gaze traveled her body, from her face to her vulva, where they remained joined at the hips.

His hands followed his gaze, sliding over her skin, cupping her breasts, following the curve of her waist and hips, almost like he was taking inventory, or memorizing the sight and feel of her body.

He leaned forward, and for a moment Dana thought he was going to kiss her again. She felt ambivalent about it. But instead he kissed her forehead, still unwilling to kiss her mouth, and sighed in satisfaction.

Well, at least someone was satisfied.

The orgasm Dana had been anticipating was receding rapidly. She might still have tumbled over the edge with a little help from Chet, but he'd gotten his and now seemed utterly content. Going, going...gone. Selfish bastard.

She was left with frustrated desire, her vulva and pussy feeling congested with blood, swollen and primed for the ecstatic climax she was no longer going to have. She felt hot, too, like her blood was fizzing with Disney chemicals that had no outlet. She thought she might cry.

"Well, that was fun," Chet said.

"I'm glad you had fun," Dana muttered. If Chet heard, he ignored it.

He pulled out without warning, shuffling backwards with his pants around his ankles. His cock dangled, looking smaller than she remembered, slick with their combined juices. He'd come inside her, she realized. She had an IUD, but it wasn't like he'd known. Or even asked.

She felt a familiar and, in this case, entirely unwelcome trickle of fluid between her thighs, which she clamped together. Now she was the one shuffling with her pants around her ankles, cupping herself with one hand, edging past Chet to gather a handful of toilet paper to blot the worst of the mess he'd made.

Dana closed her eyes, her cheeks burning with humiliation.

The mess that they had made.

Yes, he'd fucked her without a condom, but it wasn't like she'd objected. This wasn't only on him, much as she disliked him in this moment. He hadn't asked about using a condom, and she hadn't insisted--or even suggested it. She'd been just as caught up in the frantic desire for sex.

"Wow," Chet said, drawing her attention. He pulled up his pants as he spoke. "We made quite a mess, didn't we?"

Dana stared at him, speechless. He seemed so...casual about this, and seemed to think she felt likewise. As far as he was concerned, they'd had a mutually enjoyable quickie. Did he not know he'd left her high and dry, or did he simply not care? She couldn't tell.

Dana ignored his words now, frustrated and angry. And embarrassed by her poor decision making. This was not the thrilling sexual adventure she'd hoped for. She continued to clean up the tangible evidence of his pleasure, an unpleasant reminder to be more discriminating in the future.

"If we do this again, you might want to invest in a razor," Chet said, gesturing at her pubic hair.

Dana's head snapped up. "What?" Dana couldn't believe her ears.

"A razor," Chet repeated, seemingly oblivious to her glare. "It's the twenty-first century now, babe. Nobody wants hair in their teeth."

A pause. "It would make clean up easier, too."

Dana crumpled the wad of toilet paper in her hand, shocked and angry now. He really thought they'd do this again? And that she wanted grooming advice from him? Well, he might. He'd gotten off, after all.

She lifted the toilet lid and tossed the crumpled paper into the bowl. "We're not doing this again," she snapped at him. "You don't need to worry about it." You have to earn another chance, and you didn't. But as angry as she felt, she couldn't bring herself to say it.

"No?" Chet seemed surprised. But only for a moment.

He shrugged casually, his expression dismissive. "Well, okay," he said, tucking his shirt into his pants as he spoke. "I wouldn't mind a rematch, but whatever."

His casual dismissal was infuriating. Dana wanted to throw something at him. Not that she would. However much she wanted to, striking out at other people was just something she didn't--couldn't--do. But she could imagine it, and did.

"If my pubic hair is so offensive, why'd you even fuck me?"

Chet's brows rose in surprise. Annoyance flickered across his face before he settled for a smirk. "A couple of reasons, actually."

"Oh do tell," Dana insisted, almost demanded. She felt flushed again, but with fury now.

"Well, first, you're kinda cute," he said. Even in her fury she couldn't help feeling pleased by the compliment. Asshole he might be, but she still found it flattering--and a little bit surprising--when guys found her attractive.

"And second, a hairy pussy isn't a deal killer. I prefer them shaved, but it's not a fetish."

"No?"

"Besides, I heard you were easy," he said. "I wasn't going to miss out on a sure thing just because you don't shave."

He went on, but Dana didn't hear any more. I heard you were easy. Chet's words echoed in her mind.

"W-who told you that?" Her anger had dissipated, replaced by horror.

"Does it matter? He was right."

How many times had Dana heard her mother's warnings about avoiding a bad reputation? How many lectures on being ladylike and chaste, lest she acquire a reputation she could never live down? She'd lived by those words at home--she'd had no choice. The chances of doing otherwise without getting caught made it an unacceptable risk.

She'd abandoned those constraints here at school, secure in her anonymity. She'd chased sex often, and with increasing enthusiasm. She had several lovers now, and a growing number of friends or acquaintances who knew her for the hedonist that she was. Hell, quite a few strangers knew her as the girl who had sex with their neighbor frequently and loudly.

And this was the result.

She stared at herself in the mirror behind Chet. She was standing in a stranger's bathroom with her pants around her ankles, her blouse and bra pushed up to her armpits to expose her breasts. Another stranger shared the room, rearranging his clothing to make himself presentable, his cum leaking from her pussy.

Her image blurred and ran, and Dana stumbled backward to sit heavily on the toilet lid. She pressed a fist to her mouth, eyes tightly shut. She was not going to cry in front of Chet. She wasn't.

"Oh god," Dana whispered.

"Barry Hutton," Chet said, abruptly.

She looked up. "He told me," Chet said, looking uneasy. He was fully dressed again, ready to leave. He glanced at the door, obviously eager to flee. But he didn't. Maybe her distress actually bothered him. Maybe he wasn't a complete bastard.

"Barry Hutton?" she asked.

Chet nodded. She had no idea who that was. Was that a good thing? A bad thing? She swallowed heavily a few times, fighting to get herself under control.

"Who is that?" Dana asked.

Chet gestured helplessly. "He's a guy I know. He lives on Duncan Hall. Second floor."

That was Randy's dorm. Randy's floor. Plenty of his neighbors knew she was sleeping with Randy. That didn't narrow the field much. She didn't know them all, and most she didn't know well. Mostly she knew their faces and exchanged greetings when she visited Randy. Would they talk about her like this? She wouldn't have thought so, but maybe? Guys talk, right?

There was one guy, though. He'd propositioned her once, and she'd shot him down. He'd gotten angry and called her a slut. A big guy, maybe a football player, with unruly hair. Would he spread rumors about her?

Yeah, she thought he would. She described him to Chet.

"Yeah," he said. "That's him."

Strangely, that made her feel better. The bastard was spreading rumors about her, but it had little or nothing to do with her actual behavior. It was purely malicious. He was just an asshole with a bruised ego.

It still hurt that strangers might believe him and look at her differently, but one guy stirring up shit was a lot less troubling than she'd feared. She'd imagined scores of guys spreading rumors. The story probably hadn't traveled nearly as far as she'd thought. And being able to truthfully claim it was just sour grapes on his part helped.

Chet glanced at the door again. "Look," he said, "this was--"He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with Dana's distress, and tried again. "I had...fun, but I'm gonna go."

The last thing Dana needed was to be seen this way. She yanked her shirt down and her pants up. Chet took this as his signal to go. He opened the door. "Sorry, still occupied," he said to someone as he exited.

Dana slammed the door behind him and locked it. She leaned against the door for a moment, wiping her eyes. She was not going to cry, damn it.

Someone banged on the door. "There's a line!"

Dana jumped away from the door, startled. "Out in a minute," she called.

She had to get out of here. Where to go, though? She still couldn't go back to her room. She put that question out of her mind. First things first.

She used the toilet, finished cleaning herself up and washed her hands, then dressed herself again, making herself as presentable as she could. When she could no longer avoid it, she checked her image in the mirror. Her hair was still in good shape, and she hadn't actually cried, so her minimal make-up was still passable. The tightness around her eyes, the tension from holding back tears, wasn't visible.

Her defeated posture wouldn't do.

Dana stood straighter and took a few deep breaths. She didn't look forward to facing whoever awaited her outside the door. They'd seen Chet leave. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she'd been doing in here with him. Well, there was nothing for it but to hold her chin up and face them. Walk down the hall, retrieve her sweater and coat, and get the hell out of here.

She could do that.

Picking up her purse, Dana opened the door and stepped out.

* * *

As always, thanks for reading. You have a vast number of options here, so if you've taken the time to read my story, I appreciate it. I enjoy getting feedback, it's more tangible evidence that people are reading my story than simple view counts. If you have a comment, question, or suggestion, I'd love to hear it.