Is This Your Girl? Ch. 07

"You felt bad after that first time?"

Kayla nodded.

"Of course! I was a mess. I cried so much."

Connor could not stop himself from scoffing.

"Come on," she said, frowning. "You really think that little of me?"

He shrugged defensively.

"Ask Stacy if you don't believe me."

"Like I'm going to trust her anymore."

Kayla winced.

"So, if you felt that way after the first time," he continued, "why'd you keep doing it and how'd you get to this point?"

She glanced away to think for a moment.

"Well, I did feel really bad. I knew I fucked up and I told myself I'd never do it again."

He kept silent, waiting for her to continue.

"But..."

___________________________________________________________________________________

Kayla moaned, squirming on the bed. One hand was shoved into her panties, two fingers teasing her slick slit. Her other hand caressed her breasts through her t-shirt.

In her mind's eye, however, the fingers were replaced by a hard cock, and the hand at her breasts did not belong to her. A firm figure was atop her, strong hips pumping smoothly. She let hers thrust up against this imaginary lover to meet his effort. Her fingers rubbed steadily, squishing through streams of her wetness.

The pleasure rose swiftly, spurred on by the physical delight of the sensations and the lewd thrill of the fantasy. She let her fingers slide inside herself, doing her best to match the strength of the imaginary lover. Her lips pursed mindlessly as if to meet his.

The pleasure reached a crescendo, triggering ecstasy, the soothing waves reverberating through her. She whimpered, her hips bucking, her toes curling, her head tilting back. The imaginary lover groaned her name, following her into orgasm.

As she lay there, breathing heavily, the pleasure began to recede.

In its place came guilt.

She sighed, already resigned to that advance.

The first few nights after her mistake with Victor, she had cried herself to sleep, cursing her drunken stupidity.

But one night, after a particularly tiring day, she had ended up full of need. The need had won out, with her swearing that it would just be an animalistic fulfilling of said need. And soon, despite her best efforts to keep her mind focused on the act rather than any fantasy, memories of that night had pushed their way to prominence. She had not fought them, surrendering to her desire, any guilt kept at bay until after orgasm.

That was a few weeks ago. Now, she blew out another frustrated sigh, again cursing her drunken stupidity. The surge of guilt, as usual, ensured sleep would not come easily.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Footfalls slapped the concrete, complementing the music trickling from Kayla's phone. The campus gates waited a few yards away, marking the end of her run.

She came gradually to a stop once through them and slowed to a brisk walk.

Even with the exertion and the music, her thoughts still found their way to Victor. She shook her head in frustration to banish memories of that night, the familiar surge of guilt frothing in her chest. It did not matter where she was these days; in class, at dinner, at the gym, those memories could come without notice, accompanied by guilt and occasionally a spark of desire. The former usually overwhelmed the latter, thankfully, except at night.

It's not like I want to think about him. It just...happens.

Even the smallest spark was worrying. Thanks to Connor's chastity, she had not had sex in almost two years before that night with Victor. And although she had never felt starved for sex, her body seemed hungry for more of what Victor could give, starved on her behalf.

"Kayla!" someone called from one of the cars parked at the curb.

She turned her head, and stopped short. Her heartbeat picked up, her mouth going dry, her pussy twitching, that last reaction enough to provoke another surge of guilt.

"Victor..."

He stepped out of the car onto the curb. His tight t-shirt showed off some muscles, and her pussy twitched again at the thought of them pressed against her.

"What's up?" he asked, coming closer. "How've you been?"

She took an instinctive step back, even as one of those pesky sparks of desire arose.

"What're you doing here?" she asked numbly.

"I work on campus, remember?"

"Oh...right."

"So, how've you been? Was thinking about you."

She nodded, still numb, frozen in place despite the knowledge that she should walk away.

"Have you been thinking about me?" he asked, smirking. "I hope you have been."

"I shouldn't be here," she said out loud, as if to remind herself.

"Where do you need to be?" he asked in slight confusion. "I can give you a ride real quick if you want."

Her pussy twitched again at the thought of the two of them alone in the car.

"No, I mean...I shouldn't be talking to you..."

She managed to move, but was too busy staring at him to pay attention to her feet.

One tumble later, and she was in a heap on the ground.

He was at her side before she could react, helping her up. Just his hands on her arm and hip summoned dangerous memories of their night together.

"I got you," he assured her, bringing her closer to him, letting her rest against his chest.

She stiffened, a few jumbled thoughts screaming for her to flee, a few others clamoring for her to get into the car with him and go find a secluded spot.

"You alright, Kayla? You're super tense."

She pushed away from him, and this time, managed to stride away, ignoring him calling after her.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"Maybe I should just tell Connor. Get it off my chest."

"Fuck that," Michelle shot back.

"He's my boyfriend. He deserves to know."

"It was a one-time mistake," Stacy spoke up from next to Kayla, comforting hand on her back. "You messed up, and you know you did, but you won't do it again, right?"

"A little part of me wanted to get into his car," she admitted, her lip trembling from the shame of that confession.

"Maybe you should've," Michelle murmured.

"You're not helping," Stacy told her sharply.

"Why should she be thinking about Connor? He's barely even made out with her and they've been dating for how long?"

Stacy rolled her eyes and looked back to Kayla.

"Look, what matters is you didn't get into his car. Michelle might've just bent over the hood right then and there, but you resisted the temptation. That's gotta count for something."

"Maybe..."

"Fucking him would be better for her than agonizing over last time," Michelle told Stacy. "If she doesn't have another good time, then don't do it again, but if she has a blast, then who cares about Connor?"

"I care about Connor," Kayla said firmly, through tears threatening to fall.

"You know I don't agree with her that you should fuck him again," Stacy continued. "But I don't think you should tell Connor."

"But when am I going to stop thinking about what I did?" she asked in despair, those tears starting to fall.

And when am I going to stop being turned on by it?

"Maybe never," Stacy admitted.

"It'll probably fade," Michelle spoke up. "It was only a few weeks ago. I've done shit I freaked out about, but then kinda stopped after a while."

"You avoided temptation," Stacy told Kayla. "And that's an important step."

"You know what else is an important step? Stopping beating yourself up over this."

"Again, she's right," Stacy agreed.

Kayla hung her head, wiping away a few tears.

"Why don't we do a girls' night soon?" Michelle suggested. "Go out for dinner, maybe some dancing, then come home and have a sleepover in the common room."

"A girls' night out is what got her into this mess in the first place," Stacy shot back.

"This time I won't invite Theo and his friends. It'll just be us girls."

Stacy eyed her warily, but then looked back to Kayla.

"It actually might not be a bad idea. It'd get your mind off stuff."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You gonna come out with us?" Michelle asked Stacy teasingly.

"For dinner, sure."

"One of these days I'll get you out dancing."

"It's been three years. You need to give up."

"Never! You know I always get what I want."

Kayla smiled slightly, comforted by the repartee.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Kayla drank deep, the water refreshing her after all the alcohol. The music pulsated from the nearby dance floor. The other girls were nowhere to be seen in the crush of bodies, but she did not worry, instead leaning against the bar, letting out a drunken giggle.

The night had been lovely. From the start, her friends had been determined to ensure she would have a wonderful time, going so far as to pay for everything.

But still, despite that loveliness, the occasional intrusive thought popped up, of Victor, of Connor, of her guilt, of her desire.

She sighed, and took another sip of water.

Maybe I should get blackout drunk. Then I might stop thinking about him.

"Hey," an all-too-familiar voice greeted her.

She felt her throat go dry. The glass slipped from her hand, but Victor caught it deftly, and placed it back on the bar.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, taking a step back only to hit the bar.

He leaned closer, that proximity making her swallow nervously.

"Michelle told me you guys were here. Said you were feeling down."

"Michelle told you?" she repeated numbly.

He smiled.

"It seemed like a very strong hint that I should come."

She swallowed again, her body reacting to his closeness, memories from their night flickering through her mind's eye.

"You alright, Kayla?"

She managed to marshal enough willpower to move.

I have to get out of here.

She could sense him following her, but pressed on to the door, and out into the cool night.

"Seriously, you alright?" he asked again.

"Yes," she muttered, focusing on her footsteps.

Just get back to campus.

"You don't seem alright. Just like the other day."

She shook her head in frustration, painfully aware of her twitching pussy and stiffening nipples, more memories from that night springing into her thoughts.

"I'm not alright," she said bitterly, refusing to look back at him.

He sped up, quickly coming up alongside her.

"Did I do something wrong? I thought we had a great time. You certainly enjoyed yourself."

The comment stopped her in her tracks.

"We did something wrong," she told him, turning to look him in the eyes. "I have a boyfriend."

He stepped closer, and she shivered, her body continuing to react to his proximity.

"Obviously you needed it. Boyfriend or not."

"I didn't," she murmured, a surge of shame erupting in her chest from the blatant lie.

"Hell, you look like you need it right now," he continued, looming over her, her eyes trailing unconsciously along his chest, remembering the way it felt against hers.

"I don't," she lied again, unable to move this time even as his hands landed on her, one on her hip, the other her cheek.

The jolt of excitement that fired along her spine made her whimper in despair.

"I needed it too," he admitted, his thumb rubbing at her cheek. "I hadn't had a good time like that in too long."

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"I don't...want this..."

"I hear you've been thinking about me. About that night."

"Please..."

"I've been thinking about it too. About how good your pussy was, how sexy you sounded saying my name like that, how fucking hot you looked taking my cock."

Her eyes widened, and she shivered again.

"You were such a good girl for me."

She heard herself let out a moan.

"I've replayed that night in my head over and over. And fantasized about another night."

The breeze did nothing to deter the warmth buzzing through her. She realized then that her hands had long since gone to his chest, fingers splayed there.

He tilted her head up, and leaned down.

She did not move, expecting a kiss, realizing too late that she was going up on her toes and pursing her lips.

His mouth bypassed hers, and trailed up her cheek to her ear.

"I want you to be a good girl for me again. I want you to take my cock like you took it that night."

Another jolt fired down her spine, and she heard herself moan again. Her pussy twitched, by now practically flooding her panties.

His mouth found hers, and she could not help but reciprocate.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Kayla stared into the bathroom mirror, the realizations coming all at once.

Oh no. Oh no. This is Victor's place.

The memories came back suddenly: making out with him down the block from the club, heading back to his place. She furrowed her brow, the last memory hazy: her plopping onto his bed in a heap and closing her eyes while he went to the bathroom. Try as she might, nothing followed.

Did I fall asleep? And...oh God, what did he do to me while I was asleep?

A quick self-examination showed nothing out of the ordinary besides the wetness still clinging to her panties.

She shook her head to ward off worrying thoughts, and slipped from the bathroom.

Her shoes waited in the hall by the apartment door. A nearby mirror showed her reflection, misery plastered on her face.

How could I be so stupid?

She took a deep breath, and reached for the door knob.

"Leaving already?"

She turned to see Victor standing by the couch, wearing only briefs. Her eyes trailed mindlessly along his exposed muscles and the bulge in his briefs.

"I...have to go," she muttered, once again frozen in place.

"No need to rush," he said, coming closer.

A voice in her head screamed for her to leave, but curiosity sprung up.

"What'd you do to me last night?"

I don't know if I really want to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Last thing I remember is closing my eyes on your bed while you were in the bathroom. Did I fall asleep?"

He nodded, only a few feet from her.

"So, what did you do to me?"

He stopped, and frowned.

"I didn't do anything to you."

"...what?"

He scoffed softly.

"You really think I'd do anything to you while you were sleeping?"

She shrugged, caught off guard by his reaction.

"Why would I do that?"

"I...don't know," she mumbled.

He was so close to her now, activating what seemed to be her body's unconscious response.

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"You really didn't do anything?"

He laughed.

"I watched you sleep for a little bit, and then I fell asleep too."

"You watched me sleep?"

He nodded, his hands landing on her hips, her body again rejoicing at that intimate touch.

"You looked so peaceful."

She fought for words, but found herself still caught off guard.

"Hey," he assured her, "we really didn't do anything. If I'm going to fuck you, it'll be while you're wide awake."

She could not move, only able to watch him lean closer. His mouth landed on her neck, and she managed to stifle a moan.

"I can't...we shouldn't..."

"You can and we should. I want you, and I know you want me."

"I don't," she lied.

He laughed, that huskiness brushing over her ear.

One of his hands dipped under her dress. She started in surprise, but still did not move beyond a hitching of her hips. That hand found her panties and snuck inside them. She could not hold back a moan this time. The shame that coursed through her was nothing compared to the delight.

"I can tell how bad you need me."

"I don't," she mewled, unable to stop her hips from hitching against his fingers.

"Don't lie," he scolded playfully, teasing along her slit, juices already starting to flow forth.

Her next breath came out in another moan. She felt the door against her back and knew the knob was within reach. But she also felt her body betraying her, reacting to his touch with a lustful need. He kissed at her neck, adding more dangerous stimulation.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured, sending a rush of heat to her cheeks.

"Please..."

"Please what?"

She tried to marshal some willpower, tried to think of Connor, tried to muster even the slightest bit of defiance.

Please stop...please...you have to stop because I don't think I'll be able to...

The words died somewhere between her mind and her mouth.

His fingers found her clit. She bucked against the door, whining desperately.

"Why would you run away from this? It's just what you need."

She shook her head even as her hips moved along with his fingers. The pleasure surged, forecasting an orgasm she knew would be more powerful than the ones she had given herself those recent nights. His mouth roamed, kissing, sucking, nipping.

A voice in her head warned her that the orgasm would be too difficult to come back from, a sexual event horizon, a point of no return. But the fight had long since been sapped from her body, and while her mind offered a struggle, it was swiftly losing.

She came quickly, slumping forward to rest against him, her eyes rolling in their sockets. The voice quieted to silence.

His mouth found hers. She purred, caressing along his chest, appreciating those muscles.

He broke the kiss, and tugged her towards him. She followed his lead, ending up pressed against the table next to the door, staring straight into the mirror on the wall. Her reflection stared back at her, the flush on her cheeks a lewd pink, her tongue playing over her lips, her neck marked here and there with redness from his mouth. He pulled her dress up, and slid her panties down, leaving her pussy bared, a bit of surprise bleeding into her expression. She looked away from the mirror, not quite so deep into the lust that she wanted to watch herself.

Victor took a fistful of her hair, and pulled her head back, his assertiveness making her shiver. Her eyes found her reflection again.

"Don't look away. I want you to see how amazing, how sexy you are...so don't look away."

Her eyes widened, but she did not look away.

A hard heat nudged against her slit. She watched the anticipation play over her face. Hesitant concern joined it.

"Shouldn't you...put a condom on?"

"I'd have to go all the way to the bedroom for one," he told her, smirking. "And I don't think you can wait that long."

She bit her lip, aware in some responsible corner of her mind that she should tell him to go get one, but overcome with need, his cock right there, waiting to be plunged inside her.

"Well?" he asked, letting the head rub over her slit.

She watched herself nod, and could not help a moan at the submissiveness therein, at the way she simply gave in, so hungry for what he could give her.

"You remember how good you took me last time?" he asked her next.

She nodded again.

"Just remember that. Be good for me again."

She kept her eyes pinned on her reflection, on her reaction to his cock slipping inside her, the head pushing carefully, stretching out the channel beyond, the heat of the shaft mingling with that wet warmth. A vein stood out on her forehead, her lips pursed from the strain of accommodating him, but there was copious pleasure in the flush raging across her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes.

"See how amazing you look? You can be like that all the time."

His cock eased deeper. One of his hands was still in her hair, the other resting on her hip. She squirmed between him and the table, her juices bathing his thick shaft.

The strain increased on her face, but the pleasure matched that rise. By the time every inch rested snugly inside her, she was trembling weakly, fingernails scratching the lacquered wood of the table, toes curling in her shoes, eyes shutting tightly to help her better weather the sensations.