Party Time (Ch. 04)

"Friends who tinkle together," she began, "...whatever." She absently waved a hand and stepped to a sink. She regarded her reflection, assessing. "God, what a night. I'm a wreck."

"I think you're really cute," Alec said softly, stepping up to the sink next to hers. Her hair was a little mussed and her cheeks were red from alcohol, but the overall effect made her look like a mischievous sprite. It turned him on.

Sam laughed. She looked even cuter when she laughed. She washed her hands, shook them haphazardly into the sink, well, mostly across the counter, then turned.

"Want to kiss me?"

Alec blinked, caught with his hands still under the stream of water. He'd been trying for days to come up with a good plan for kissing her--could it really be this easy?

"Yes," he said.

Sam laughed again. "Everyone does! I might as well have a sign around my neck." She turned to leave, faltered and slumped back against the counter. "Whoa."

"You're drunk."

"Ya think?" She laughed again. At least she was a happy drunk.

It wouldn't be right to take advantage of her inebriation, but then what Alec had in mind for Sam wasn't precisely honorable, so he took a chance. He stepped directly in front of her, putting his hands lightly on the counter to each side of her body, not so subtly trapping her in place.

Sam's expression shifted first to surprise, then to indignation, then to curiosity. Alec decided not to let it shift again. He cupped Sam's cheek and pressed his lips gently to hers. She hesitated, not returning the kiss. Shit. This could be a huge setback. He'd miscalculated. As Alec was about to move away, Sam wrapped her hands about his neck and kissed him back.

Fuck, it was good--better than he'd imagined, and he'd been imagining. A rumble of pleasure rolled unbidden from Alec's chest as he deepened the kiss. Sam opened her mouth to him, and Alec took the invitation. He plunged his tongue inside. Sam whimpered, her arms holding on to him, trying to pull him closer.

Without breaking the kiss, Alec lifted Sam onto the counter. She wrapped her legs around him, and any sense of proportion or caution went by the wayside. He grew rock hard in seconds. He firmed his lips and tilted his head, trying to get his tongue deeper, demanding more from her. Sam's hands traced from the back of his neck down his shoulders and then to his chest where they became little claws digging into the hard muscle of his pecs. The need he felt from her drove him wild--had any girl ever wanted him as much? He broke the kiss and nipped at her jawline, then shoved his face into her neck, tongue lapping, lips sucking.

"Fuck," Alec said.

He pulled back long enough to take in her expression. She was so damn cute, made even more so by the expression of wide-eyed surprise and hunger on her face.

"Alec," she whined softly, one of her small hands clasping his shoulder to pull him back to her.

"Yes," Alec growled.

She was everything he wanted--so small and cute and needy. Alec had never wanted a girl more than he wanted Sam in that moment. He wanted to fuck her against the counter so hard and so thoroughly that she'd never want another man's hands on her. No, fuck that, she'd never want anything but him again. Screw his plans--that's what he was going to do.

First, though, she had to be ready for him. Alec had started having sex at fourteen, always with older girls, so he knew Sam would have to be heavily aroused to handle him.

"Let go," Alec ordered. Sam looked at him quizzically but withdrew her hands at his stern expression. Once freed, Alec swept off this tee.

"Oh god," blurted Sam.

Alec smirked. He had an outstanding body. He worked hard on it, and good genes had granted him a tall, broad frame. He'd always been more muscular than others his age. Lately, working out with the football team had added even more muscle than usual. As Zane enjoyed noting, Alec was totally jacked.

Sam seemed to like it. She needed no encouragement to touch him. As she swept her hands across his thick deltoids and prominent pecs, he touched her, too, cupping her breasts (oh yeah, he'd been right, they were amazing) and peeling down one spaghetti strap to press kisses to her soft shoulder. Meanwhile, he used his other hand to ruck up her dress and grip her upper thigh.

Sam squirmed and inhaled as if to say something, but Alec silenced any protest by plastering his lips over hers. Whatever she was going to say must not have been that important because she returned his kiss. He pried away her damp underwear to find her pussy hot and wet for him.

Alec almost went for his zipper right then--she was clearly ready and his cock ached in its confinement. It was important, though, to show her more of what he could do. She should know he could make her cum just from touching her. Not every guy could. Not every guy was as good as Alec. In fact, very few guys were as good--at least three women had screamed that at him.

Alec teased Sam's labia and caressed her mound carefully and gently until she made gasping, whimpering noises against his lips. Then, as Alec slid his tongue into her mouth, he slowly parted her pussy lips and pushed a finger into her channel. Sam's nails dug into his shoulders. She moaned into his mouth. With a soft, arrogant snort, Alec pushed his finger deeper, then hooked the digit and swept it back and forth, a rapid vibration, finding the right spot.

Sam tore her mouth away and wailed, "Alec!" She gripped his forearm and bicep, which he obligingly flexed for her even as he kept up his onslaught. Her cute little mouth dropped open. Her breath came in short, stuttering gasps, and her eyes grew wide as they locked on his. Alec's cock flexed at the wild, desperate look in her stunning, azure eyes.

"Now," Alec whispered, and dropped his hand onto her clit, swiping and pressing the little nub.

A single, glistening teardrop formed in one corner of Sam's eye. As it slid out along her cheek Alec heard a soft click as her breath caught. Her little mouth minutely opened and shut, opened and shut.

She came. Magnificently.

Alec had never witnessed so awesome and beautiful a climax. The sight of Sam whimpering and trembling and gasping almost made him cum in his pants. Pride and determination swelling, he grew harder than he'd ever been in his life. The need to be inside her--now, dammit--was so strong he nearly ripped his pants in two rather than unbutton and unzip.

Sam was still cumming when he finally freed his cock. She was fucking incredible. Her eyes dropped to his crotch, and the insanely hot girl before him, the one he'd basically ignored during all of high school, exclaimed through juddering gasps of ecstasy:

"Oh...god, Alec, that's...fucking huge."

He was. His dick was large and thick throughout its impressive length. It was a big, battering ram of a cock, and with it he could break down pussies. Alec could turn young women into wailing, crying wrecks, defeated and desperate slaves. He'd almost done it with the last girl, the one with Zane. It had gone wrong, but Alec was not one to rest until he'd mastered something. Well, more like someone. Sam was the right girl for what he wanted; Alec was certain.

"Shit, man! Get a fucking room!!"

A huge wall of a human being lumbered into the shared bathroom. Alec recognized him: Brandon, Ballister College's massive center and one of the few Black men on campus. Alec turned his face away, hoping not to be recognized but forgetting there was a mirror. Brandon kept coming, so Alec gritted his teeth and stuffed his massive hard-on down the leg of his pants.

"For fuck's sake, this place is Hump City tonight. All you white folk humpin' each other all over everything. But, you know, not in my bathroom, okay? Get the fuck out! Is that--no! Alec? The freshman? Who you got there? Ooooh, she's pretty." Brandon folded his massive arms and scowled at Alec. "Don't you think that pretty lady deserves better than a bathroom?! Have some class, man!"

Brandon was right, of course, and since Alec already idolized the man--he was an impressive athlete--the shame of the situation stung. Alec had lost control, and he couldn't think of a way to save face. He hastily pulled on his shirt and said the first thing that came to mind.

"You're in Sigma Chi?"

Brandon's scowl only deepened.

"Yes. You gonna get all racist on me, Al-ec?" Brandon made the two syllables of Alec's name into a little song.

"Yeah," Sam said, her voice breathy but level, "now you've got to say sorry twice, Al-ec." Alec turned to find her pulling up the strap of her dress.

"Twice?"

"Yeah," Brandon said, "one to her, and one to me."

"Well?" Sam said, folding her arms like Brandon. The two couldn't be more physically different--the tiny, pale white girl and the huge, black athlete--but the vibe was exactly the same.

Alec bowed to the inevitable. "Sam, I'm sorry for making out with you in a bathroom. Brandon, I'm sorry for suggesting you don't belong in Sigma Chi."

"Apology accepted," Brandon said, putting a meaty hand on Alec's shoulder. "You've got a lot of fire, freshman. I see that passion. Gotta work on that class, though."

Alec didn't want class. He wanted Sam on her knees begging for his dick. He wanted her fingers back on his chest, clawing at him as he wrecked her pussy. Fuck, he was horny.

Sam hopped down from the counter. "Yep, gotta work on that class." She waved her fingers in the air over her shoulder as she slipped around Brandon's broad body.

The center watched her appreciatively. "She's got it."

Alec made to go after her, but Brandon's hand kept him firmly in place. His expression grew stony. "If I ever find you in my bathroom again, freshman..."

There was no need to spell out the threat. Alec ducked his head in assent, and Brandon released him.

Back in the hallway, Alec found no sign of Sam. He had just picked a direction when another problem rounded the corner. Marco strode up to Alec, the tall man's sheer presence filling more space than Brandon had.

"Hey, have you seen Sam?"

Alec shook his head, afraid to speak lest Marco hear the lie. Marco nodded and was about to turn down the hallway when he caught sight of Brandon.

"Hey, Brandon, you see a girl in a black dress walk by? Brown hair, cute, kinda small."

Brandon stepped into the doorway of the bathroom, and Alec feared the worst. This was it--Marco would know he'd been lying, would know he was after Sam, and that would be the end of Alec's football career, maybe even his scholarship. Fuck, maybe more than that.

"Nah, man, I haven't seen anyone but this shrimp."

Alec was 6'-3" and had recently hit 200 pounds, so he didn't usually feel like a shrimp, but standing between the hulking Brandon and the powerfully built Marco was an unusual situation. He certainly wasn't going to argue with Brandon, who for some reason had decided to cover for him.

Marco nodded his thanks and headed down the hallway in the direction Alec would have gone. Now, he'd have to go the other way. A familiar meaty hand clamped onto Alec's shoulder again. He turned.

"Do you know why I did that?"

Alec shook his head.

"You're a local kid, right?"

Alec nodded.

"Let me help you understand how things work here. You and me, we're knights. We get a seat at the round table. We live a good life. But that man: he's the king. What the king wants, the king gets. It doesn't matter what it is, or who it is. Nobody's gonna help you if you take what the king wants. They're gonna help him put you in the ground. Understand?"

Alec nodded again.

"Good. No more free passes, freshman. You used up all of yours. Now get out of my sight."

Alec didn't need to be told twice.

***

She had to get out of here. If that big guy hadn't come in, she might have--. With Alec Cadell! Sam stumbled on the steps and caught herself. She descended at a less breakneck pace. Her crush of crushes! She'd let him--. He'd wanted to--. Sam stopped suddenly on the steps, eyes wide, recalling Alec's incredible body. He was gorgeous...and hard and huge. Bigger even than Marco maybe. Here she was comparing again when the important thing--. Two women jostled her as they climbed the stairs. Sam shuffled to one side and continued down the steps.

Which floor was this? Did she need to go down another flight? God, Alec's body. She'd dreamt about him for years. She'd masturbated for the very first time thinking of Alec. There was that one time he'd been cliff diving at the quarry, and she'd watched him dive and do flips, barely able to breathe. She had just touched that hot body--no, it couldn't have been real. Had she hit her head? Surely she'd been in some kind of dream. Kyle had been nice to touch, his body cut and svelte, but Alec was different: hard and hot and muscled. And big. God, his cock had been enormous. Definitely bigger than Kyle's--no, stop it! She had to get out of here!

This hallway looked familiar. The music was louder, too, so she'd probably found the first floor. Sam slipped around a couple kissing and squeezed between two drunk guys shouting at each other. Who was she kidding? Both men had turned her on. She'd climaxed with Kyle's face between her legs (yep, he was good at that). Then she'd had another powerful orgasm sitting on a bathroom counter with Alec's (Alec Cadell's!) fingers in her pussy. She had to face it. She was drunk and doing stupid things and she'd nearly done the stupidest: had sex for the first time, unthinkingly, in some awful place. Twice! Only some well-timed interruptions had saved her from her idiocy.

God, there were so many people! Sam couldn't see over or around the shifting masses. She couldn't find the front of the house, much less the front door. She threaded her way through a group clustered around a keg, feeling like a small child navigating around the adults' legs at a drunken holiday dinner.

Speaking of interruptions, one had been Marco. He was here, too! The man who made her knees weak merely by existing. The man who'd made her cum so hard in a movie theater she'd almost blacked out. Sam leaned against a wall to catch her breath, wishing that Harumi were here. Her friend would have helped her deal with this crazy night. Was Marco looking for her? The thought made her tremble. She couldn't see him like this: drunk, uninhibited, and still somehow horny. With Marco she wouldn't welcome an interruption. With him she wouldn't be able to think at all.

Sam used the open space created by two men wrestling to slip around a corner, stumbling in her haste...and there it was! The front door. The open doorway was jammed with people, most trying to make their way into the party. Sam angled for the door frame and squeezed herself out one side, gasping as she passed from the humid heat of the house into the chilly night air. Goose pimples rose on her skin. She pushed her way down the long front steps to the main gate, where a disorderly line snaked down the sidewalk in one direction. She chose the opposite direction, walking purposefully. No one gave her a second look as she exited; there were a dozen people ready to take her place.

Sam walked until she reached the illumination of a street lamp. As the hub of student social life, Jackson Street was busy with cars passing and people walking and milling about. Sam pondered her options. Kyle had given her a ride, and there was no way she was going back inside; she'd end up losing her virginity a dozen times before she found him. The thought made her giggle--god, she was drunk. Sam sighed. It would be a long, cold walk home--a few miles if she couldn't find a campus shuttle or bus--but she didn't have any other option. At least she was wearing flats. Harumi's mom had tried to give her some high heels, but thankfully they hadn't fit. She would have blisters by the end of this walk, but at least she wouldn't turn an ankle. At least she'd have an intact sense of self, too--shouldn't forget that!

Sam turned in the direction home only to find Marco a dozen feet away, walking toward her. Two impulses warred within her: one to bolt like a frightened deer, the other to melt into the sidewalk like a cookie in the oven. She couldn't bolt--he'd seen her. He was looking right at her. Fucking fuck, Marco was absolutely gorgeous. As his big, hot body grew closer, Sam began to melt. Her thoughts grew fuzzy and frazzled as her entire being seemed to drop into the heated cauldron of lust bubbling away in her lower abdomen. Her skin grew hot. Her palms began to sweat. He was so big and beautiful. No one should be allowed to be so impressive.

"Hey," he said, stepping close. "You didn't have to leave."

He reached out, his big hand engulfing her shoulder. Sam had to fight to keep from turning her face into it. He would pull her into his big, amazing arms if she did that. He would hold her and touch her and make her feel incredible things. A faint note of his scent teased her nose, and Sam nearly moaned. Only with great effort did she conjure a response, and it wasn't a very good one.

"I can't dance anymore."

Marco frowned slightly, processing this information. "You don't have to dance if you don't want to."

Sam flushed, embarrassment connecting a few more neurons. "I need to go home. I had too much to drink."

"I can take you home," Marco said, smiling.

The curve of his lips was so enticing that all Sam's neurons went offline. She stared, enraptured by that sexy curve, struck dumb by the glorious man making it.

Marco waited for her assent, then looked away down the sidewalk as the silence grew awkward. "Maybe we should walk a bit first. Let you sober up. There's a garden gate down here."

Marco's hand dropped from Sam's shoulder, and she nearly stumbled into him. She'd been leaning toward him like a dog after a treat. Sam righted herself as Marco grasped her hand. His palm was the opposite of hers--dry, rough, and warm. Sam fell into step next to Marco as he guided her slowly down the sidewalk. They walked away from the main gate and its milling crowds, then turned a corner, following the tall brick wall that marked off the mansion's grounds. Sam's eyes slowly adjusted to greater darkness as the streetlamp's light faded. In the distance, another lamp stood, illuminating the spot where the paved street became a dirt track. The brick wall, pristine on Jackson Street, became more and more overgrown with vines and creepers the farther they walked.

"Uh...where are we going?" Sam asked. She couldn't keep the trepidation from her voice.

Marco squeezed her hand reassuringly. "There's a gate right up here."

A gate to where, Sam wanted to ask, but then she saw it. Near where the pavement ended a narrow archway was set into the wall. Marco reached through a heavy wrought iron gate, yanked a lever, and the gate swung inward, creaking ominously as it did so. Marco stepped through first, and Sam noted how his broad shoulders nearly brushed the sides of the opening. He disappeared into the darkness. Sam hesitated, waiting for a scream or thump. Hearing nothing out of a horror movie, she left the street behind, only to bump into Marco's broad back in the total darkness.

"Sorry."

"This way," he said, his fingers trailing down her forearm before finding her hand again.

His grip steadied her nerves. Gravel crunched beneath her feet. She was on a path. Leaves rustled to her left and overhead, while to her right there was an immovable darkness--another wall? Marco seemed to know where he was going, so Sam let him lead her toward a faint light in the distance.

Some twenty steps later, the path widened into a small clearing lit by a dim lamppost. What she'd thought was a wall was actually a tall hedge. The lamppost in the clearing was odd: it looked like a witch's hat on a tall pole. As Sam looked closer, she saw that the bulb was topped with a wide conical shield that aimed the light toward the ground. Marco noticed her inspection.