Mary Ellen Takes It up the Butt

It was a day after graduation. The summer heat was setting in, and even the nights were hot. And Colin and Andrew were having a party at their place.

It wasn't the biggest party that night. There were probably some management students having all-night fuckin' ragers with kegs of gross aerated beer, while this party was full of craft brews and gin. This was strictly a theatre dork party.

Mary Ellen James arrived with three bottles of her favourite IPA. She'd been trying to cut back on her drinking after breaking up with Lucas; her reputation as a hard-drinking party animal was all well and good, but she wasn't an undergrad anymore, and she was sick of hangovers.

Her eyes lit up when she saw Dylan Ackerman was there, currently doing shots with Colin and Andrew. Dylan was a perennial supporting actor in theatre department shows, his features maybe a bit too deep-set to be a leading man, but a reliable and talented actor nonetheless. He was aptly-named, looking a fair bit like Bob Dylan - wild, dark curls pouring around a narrow, bony, clean-shaven face. His dress sense suggested he was leaning into it: today he was wearing a crisp white linen shirt, buttoned all the way up to the throat, over a pair of grey slacks. The only concession to the early summer heat was his rolled-up sleeves.

Anyone who thought he wasn't good-looking enough for a lead role, as far as Mary Ellen was concerned, was an idiot.

He caught her gaze, and smiled at her from across the room. "Hey, Mary Ellen! Come have a shot with us!" he called.

Maybe she would drink a little more tonight after all.

Dylan had had a lowkey crush on Mary Ellen for years now. She was always fun to be around, with a loud, unashamed laugh and a wicked sense of humour. She was always easy to work with whenever they were in a play together, tempering a professional attitude with a genuine love of performance, which he respected immensely.

And she was sexy. Those big brown eyes, that thick, light brown hair, that big round ass and those big tits that always seemed to jiggle when she walked. Even the slight acne scars on her cheeks added character to a radiant face.

He had never made a move. Not since first year, when he dimly remembered drunkenly making out with her during frosh week. But nothing had come of that, and a few days later she was with Lucas. He wondered if she even remembered it.

Before long, someone suggested they all play a round ofSuper Smash Bros. Ultimate. People clustered around the TV, packed onto the couch or else sitting on the floor in front of it. Mary Ellen was happy to have to squeeze up to Dylan. "Please tell me you have the DLC for this," she said to Andrew.

"Most of it," he replied.

"You have Piranha Plant?" He nodded. "Cool. I'm only good with Piranha Plant."

Within the first few minutes of play, it became clear that there was a pretty wide spread of skill at the game. Andrew, as the Villager fromAnimal Crossing, was doing quite well. Colin, who picked Luigi, was having a bit of trouble. But it was clear from the start that the best players here were Mary Ellen and Dylan, who was playing Fox. She may have been only good with Piranha Plant, but she was very good indeed, and by the time the first player was eliminated, she hadn't lost a single life.

And neither had Dylan.

As the game progressed and the weaker players were weeded out, things got increasingly slow, careful. Everyone left in the game was playing defensively, and in a big stage like New Pork City, playing defensively was very possible. Eventually, Dylan hit Andrew with a Final Smash, eliminating him from the game, and bringing it down to Mary Ellen and himself. He had three lives left. She had two.

Everyone who had been eliminated from the game was watching, with rapt attention. But after ten minutes of what seemed like a stalemate, people started to get up. Freshen their drinks. Go to the bathroom. Kitchen conversations. And before too long, Mary Ellen and Dylan were alone on the couch, still sitting right up against each other without taking advantage of all the recently-vacated space, playing as hard as they could. They barely seemed aware that no one else was watching anymore. The party went on around them and neither gave up an inch.

Finally they were down to one life each, and it was clear that the length of the game was taking a toll on them. It was clear that, one way or the other, the game would end soon, and both of them were starting to play more aggressively, just wanting to finish.

"Hey Dylan," said Mary Ellen. "Remember in first year when we made out?"

He froze for a second, stunned. It was just enough time for Piranha Plant to throw a spikey ball at Fox, rocketing him off the side of a platform. He tried to recover, but it was too late.

Mary Ellen had won.

"Gotcha," she laughed.

"Good game," Dylan groaned. "Want to play again?"

"Dude, my thumbs are sore. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, you're right," he said, grateful she had declined. "Another time." He still felt a bit raw, emotionally. Not from the loss. He'd lost before. Many times, to get as good as he was. No, he still stung from her so casually bringing up a rather sensitive, but treasured, memory.

It had been a while since Dylan's last girlfriend. He was honestly a little insecure about his appearance, and had long assumed he never had a chance with a girl as hot as her. So he tried not to even think about the possibility of him and Mary Ellen getting together. Why hope for the impossible? And now here she was, bringing it up to get him off his guard for a game.

He realized she probably didn't mean anything by it. Probably didn't know how much that memory meant to him. So he wasn't angry or anything. But he didn't bring the conversation back around to that.

In spite of that, they kept talking. Sitting next to each other on the couch, as though there were no one else around at the party. Just talking to each other. Even when she got up to get one of her beers from the fridge, she immediately returned with it. The whole evening, they barely talked to anyone but each other. She offered him some weed she had, and found it hilarious that he called it 'reefer', and they smoked a bit of it outside.

Finally, the party started to wind down. Colin and Andrew, both plainly exhausted, were subtly shepherding everyone else out of their apartment.

"You mind walking me home?" Mary Ellen asked Dylan. "I live like two blocks from here but it's a little bit of a sketchy neighbourhood."

"Nah, dude. Don't mind at all."

She smiled.

Even this late, the air was still warm out. Dylan didn't even roll his sleeves back down. The street was still light, and loud, with other house parties still raging up and down the block.

"So what are you doing now that school's over?" he asked her as they strolled out.

"Still working at the university bookstore," she said. "For the summer, anyway. And in the fall, I'm going to start my Master's at University of Saskatchewan. They have a fucking great theatre program." She passed him back the joint, and he took a drag of it.

"Don't tell me about your shitty summer jobbefore telling me about this awesome Master's program you're doing," he joked. "Way to bury the lede."

She laughed uproariously, that brash, wild laugh he loved. "How about you?"

"I think I'm going to stick around here for a bit," he said, passing the joint back to her. "I have an audition next week for a TV commercial. And I'm in a Fringe Festival show this year."

"Nice. Well, here's my house." The windows were dark. "I guess Kate is out at her boyfriend's tonight." She put out the joint and slid what was left of it into a resealable bag in her purse pocket.

"Alright," said Dylan. "We should definitely hang out again this summer. How long are you in town?"

"Until August. Well... have a good night."

She opened her arms to hug him, and he held her tight.

"Good night, Mary Ellen. I'll see you around."

She was just shutting the door when she changed her mind and walked back out. Dylan turned back toward her.

"You want to come in?" she asked him.

"S-sure," he said. "I could come in for a bit."

Her apartment was immaculately clean. There was a squashy green sofa against the window, facing a big flat screen TV with a Nintendo Switch next to it. A small bookcase with a few Blu-Rays next to it, and a much larger shelf full of books, and a few plastic dinosaurs that belonged to her roommate. Enormous, framed posters forHamilton and the stage version ofLittle Shop of Horrors.

It was all so different from Dylan's own untidy living room, where - unless his roommate had suddenly had a road to Damascus moment - the coffee table was still covered in a small tower of dirty plates, the recycling hadn't been taken out in weeks, and there was a large pile of crumpled up paper next to the antique typewriter Dylan liked to write on.

Mary Ellen sat down on the pristine couch. He wondered for a moment if she had undone a button on her blouse since he had last seen, or maybe it was just the angle and the way she was sitting, but her cleavage was hypnotic.

"Has anyone ever told you you look like Bob Dylan?" she asked.

"Once or twice."

She patted the couch seat next to her, gesturing for him to sit down. He did. "You remember when we made out in first year?" she asked again.

Dylan's hands were trembling, he realized, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She eagerly reciprocated the kiss, one hand snaking up into his curly hair, the other around his back. His hands explored the curve of her waist, ran through her layered hair, the small of her back. Finally, they came up for air.

"I love Bob Dylan," gasped Mary Ellen.

He chuckled. She kissed him again, biting his lower lip gently as she pulled away, before moving her hands to his shoulders and slowly pushing him backward. He took the hint, falling onto his back on the sofa. She straddled him, pushing her soft body against him, kissing him again and again. Their hands moved all over each other's bodies as their hips ground together, and she could feel him stiffening between her legs.

"Can I just say something, before we proceed?" Mary Ellen asked, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"You can say anything you want," said Dylan.

"Okay. I'm, uh... I'm not really looking for anything serious right now. I just got out of a not-great relationship a few weeks ago, and I'm also, you know, moving to fucking Saskatoon in a few months. I cannot be tied down right now. But I've always thought you were really cute, and I've regretted that we never hooked up in first year. I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

"I understand," said Dylan. "Look, Mary Ellen, I like you a lot. You're an amazing person. But I don't think anything serious would really work between us anyway." And he meant it.

"Okay, cool," said Mary Ellen. "Fuckbuddies?" She offered him a hand. He took it and shook it, and Mary Ellen cracked a wicked grin before sliding off of him. "Let's go into my room."

Again, Dylan was struck by the contrast of her room and his. She had a bedframe and everything. The bed was made, a neat dresser against the wall beside a closet that looked like it was carefully organized. He slept on a mattress lying on the floor, and his own dresser was constantly overflowing with clothes haphazardly stuffed, unfolded, into the drawers.

She pushed him, aggressively, onto the bed, straddling him again in the same position she had on the couch, before roughly unbuttoning his shirt. He let his hands rest on her thighs as she uncovered his chest.

"Oh, skinny boy," she cooed at his visible ribs.

Now it was his turn. He reached up, nervously, and started unbuttoning her blouse, fingers grazing against the softness of her breasts.

"Dude, relax," she said. "It's okay."

Dylan nodded, and undid the last few buttons, his hands a little steadier. "Sorry, I... it's been a while for me. Forgive me if I'm a bit rusty."

Mary Ellen shrugged out of the blouse. A black lacy bra was all that covered her remarkable breasts, and that was soon shed too.

Mary Ellen's breasts were of truly spectacular proportion, and she had puffy, firm nipples the size of thimbles.

"These are incredible," said Dylan, before pushing his face between them. Mary Ellen cried out in surprise and delight as he motorboated her spectacular tits. His fingers found those big nipples and pinched them gently, making her cry out. She arched her back, pushing them into his face, and moving her hands to the back of his head.

"Damn, Dylan!" she gasped as he pleasured her tits.

After a few minutes of that, she pulled away from him and started to slide her body down his. "Do you want a blowjob?" she asked, earnestly. He nodded.

She started to unzip his pants and unbuckle his belt pulling his rod out from his boxer shorts. "Nice cock, dude!" she said, holding it in her hand. It was a lot bigger and fatter than she was expecting on such a skinny guy.

"Thanks?" was all he could say, before she slid her lips over his circumcised head.

It wasn't tender or romantic, the way she engulfed him with her mouth, nor was it especially wanton or raunchy. It was... companionable. Friendly. She was just a girl giving a blowjob to a pal.

"Mmmmmm," he moaned, as she slid her lips up and down his shaft.

He could tell that she was very skilled at giving head. She kept him excited, bobbing her cute little head up and down in his lap, without getting him close to coming. He didn't want to come yet, and was sure she didn't want him to either.

"Can I eat your pussy?" he asked, after a minute.

She withdrew him from her mouth and smiled. She didn't say a word. She just stood up and wriggled out of her denim shorts. She had on a pair of very cute panties, yellow with orange polka dots, and she slid them down, giving Dylan his first look at the golden-brown curls and bright pink lips of her cunt. She was fully naked now except for a pair of knee-high socks.

"You like it?" she asked, teasingly.

Dylan nodded. "Mary Ellen, you are... ridiculously hot."

She lay down next to him, and he went down on her, kissing and caressing her breasts again as he descended. He rained kisses all they way down her tummy, her hips, down to the wet, glistening prize.

"Okay, my dude, let's see if you can find my- oh. You found it," she panted, as he lightly flicked his tongue out onto her clit.

Dylan's hands moved around, squeezing the soft cheeks of her bum, and Mary Ellen found her own hands involuntarily moving up her her breasts, stroking them and squeezing her nipples as Dylan worked.

His technique was a little rusty, but she couldn't deny he had a lot of skill and enthusiasm. She didn't try to suppress the little cries of pleasure; her roommate wasn't home, after all. They could be as loud as they wanted.

"That is... really fucking good..." she gasped. She lowered a hand to the back of his head, running it through his bushy hair between her legs.

He kept up a steady rhythm with his tongue. As she started to get wetter and more and more relaxed, he slowly slid the middle finger of his right hand up her pussy, giving his tongue a break for a moment as he did. Mary Ellen screamed with utter delight as the dripping wet walls of her vagina parted before Dylan's long finger. Her grip on his hair tightened and her juices ran down his knuckle. He brought his tongue back to her clit again, making her howl.

It had been a long time since she'd been eaten out with such eagerness. Lucas, despite all his talk about living life to the fullest, was always very squeamish about sex. He didn't seem to genuinely enjoy anything but the missionary position. He liked to present as some kind of Voltaire-esque freethinker, but in private, he was also very hidebound, traditional, and Mary Ellen - a healthy girl with a healthy sex drive, she thought - had some fantasies, desires, and curiosities that she knew Lucas would never even consider exploring with her.

She was getting close. She could feel an orgasm building. "Keep going, Dylan," she moaned. "Exactly like that."

Her twitching pussy was grinding desperately against his juice-soaked face when she finally came, in a torrent of fluid and screams.

As she caught her breath, she noticed that Dylan was now completely nude. At some point, he had kicked his pants, underwear, and socks off while going down on her. "Dude, nice multitasking," she said. He smiled sheepishly. "Do you wanna fuck now?"

"There is nothing I would like better."

She smiled and stood up. "I should still have a couple of condoms in here." She bent over to look in the drawer of her bedside table. Just as she slid the drawer open, she felt a light wetness on her left buttock. It started as a small kiss, before becoming a full sloppy lick along her outer cheek.

Mary Ellen gave an encouraging little moan, and ground her butt back against Dylan's face, reveling in the light feeling of his teeth dragging across her. She opened up the drawer to find...

"Ah, fuck," she said. "I'm out. I can probably borrow one from Kate's room. She won't mind."

"No hurry," said Dylan. His hands came up around her hips, pulling her to him, and Mary Ellen shifted her own weight, leaning against the table, pushing her ass back against his face. What was he going to do next?

Before long he was right between her two round, smooth buttocks. And then suddenly, she felt it: his tongue against her asshole. Mary Ellen froze. Was he really...?

"Is this okay?" Dylan asked, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah, it's fine. I just... didn't know you did that."

"I can stop."

"Do not fucking stop, Dylan." She was surprised at the intensity in her voice. Having her asshole eaten was one of the fantasies she hadn't told Lucas about. And now, unexpectedly, it was happening. She was honestly embarassed how much it turned her on.

His tongue was circling her tight puckered asshole now, his fingers cupping her cheeks. Her own hand fell between her legs, fingers frantically dancing over her clit, her chest splayed over the table, her butt bouncing and grinding against Dylan's eager face.

He pushed his tongue now, probing delicately into her, loving the feeling of her flesh in his hands, the taste of her tart butthole over his tongue, and the fevered pace of her masturbation.

And Mary Ellen knew for sure in that moment that regardless of the quality of his dick game, this would not be the last time she and Dylan would fuck. "Dude, how are you still single?" she asked. "You eat pussyand ass like a pro, you have a big dick, and you're really fucking cute. I don't get it."

Dylan, his mouth muffled by Mary Ellen's ass, could only give a vague "mm-hmm-mm" sound.I dunno.

She laughed. Then she screamed, as he pushed his tongue deeper and deeper into her. Another orgasm was close, and she knew this was going to be a big one. A knee-buckling, throat-clenching, eye-crossing big one. She slid her middle finger right up her wet cunt, and then it happened.

Without his hands on her hips, she probably would have fallen back onto him. But he held her steady as her orgasm roared through her, making her scream in wordless ecstasy.

"Ohfuck, that was intense," she gasped, as she caught her breath.

"Glad you liked it," said Dylan.

"I really did. You don't mind doing that? The taste?" Dylan shook his head. "Now Ireally wish we'd hooked up in first year. If I'd known what I was missing with Lucus, I probably would have dumped him years ago."

"Do you want to talk about the breakup?"

Mary Ellen ran a hand through her hair, considering. "No," she said, after a moment. "Maybe another time." She glanced back at him, and saw that he was still very erect. She uneasily got to her feet. "What I want to do right now is grab a condom from Kate's room and then ride this cock until you come. Sound good, my dude?"