A/N; I was slightly pissed when I found out that there will be no new episodes airing in May, so I decided that I'm going to post my own episodes every Sunday until we finally get a new one.
Yes, I know today is Tuesday. So sue me. I fell a bit behind as I lost my iPad and ALL my drafts. Rewriting sucks. Ass.
I will post all upcoming chapters on Sunday nights. At 9. Sharp. I think.
Who am I kidding, I really can't make any promises, but I'll try.
The chapters will probably be kind of shortish, mostly smut, and they won't be connected in terms of plot lines.
This first one was inspired by "Can't Hardly Wait". Yes, I love bad 90's movies. That, and a guest had requested something similar to this a while ago. So here you go.
It's pure smut...
Upstairs & Underwear
She sighed to herself as she looked around the jam-packed room. The music that was blasting out of the too large speakers was louder than she would have preferred or frankly could stand. What type of music was that anyways? The lead singer sounded like a cat dying from strangulation. There were people spread out on every surface of the too hot space and she was already contemplating various excuses she could use to get out of there.
She had not been wanting to go.
It wasn't that she didn't like parties, she generally did, and Cassidy's get-togethers didn't usually disappoint. It was just that the last time she had attended a party, about a month prior, things had ended up...differently than she had expected.
She had been dragged there tonight by Dez. Her best friend may be eccentric, but he had some admirable persuasion skills. She still was unsure of how she had finally agreed to go, getting herself lost somewhere in between the redheads exclamation of how she needed to enjoy high-school while it lasted, and some confusing yet endearing story about a missing puppy.
She knew he was right, though. About high-school, that is. They were about to graduate in a few months and then they would all go their separate ways. For forever.
College.
She couldn't wait.
It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed high-school, because she had.
She had made lots of friends, lots of memories, had lots of fun, just not a lot of...love.
There had been some flings, some dating, but overall the guys, the boys, we're all...blah.
She had gone through high-school almost completely unaffected.
Almost.
Well, there had been one.
One affection.
One boy.
One night.
One broken heart.
She still felt stupid over the fact that he had so easily fooled her into believing that he was different. She considered herself a good people reader, and the fact that she had completely misread him bothered her. She tried to ignore the by her memories produced pangs in her stomach as she remembered them hanging out, studying together, singing together, laughing...kissing.
Aaaaahhhhh. Kissing. And more than that. A lot more than that. Shit.
He had made her understand what all the buzz about boys was about, he had made her yearn for intimacy, for touch, for twosomeness...He had created butterflies in her stomach, something that she had up until that point only believed to be a cliche, an old and overly used, by Hollywood created, myth, something that the big head movie makers had come up with as a mean to make an obscene amount of money.
The memory of the taste of him, his tongue, soft yet rough against hers, and against other parts of her body, suddenly popped up in her mind like freaking whack-a-moles, and despite her hitting them over the head both forcefully and repeatedly, they wouldn't go away.
It wasn't all good memories, though.
Unfortunately, he had also taught her what it felt like to miss someone.
To be disappointed in someone.
How it felt to have a broken heart.
Luckily, there was no sign of him at this god-forsaken party.
Good.
Dez reappeared, loudly telling her to stop being a party pooper and handing her a beer that she didn't want before he continued his mission of social butterflying throughout the large sized crowd.
She was soon reluctantly moving to the haphazard rhythm of the screaming cat, sipping on the beer, her second one, despite not wanting even the first one, and before she knew it, she had finished the whole damn thing and she needed to pee. Badly.
She moved towards the bathroom, only to realize that the line outside of it was outrageously long, and that there was no way she was going to be able to wait.
She needed a plan b.
Outside? Nope, it was raining. Pouring. Old man snoring.
As she quickly scanned the area, her eyes soon landed on the stairway leading up to the second floor. There had to be a bathroom up there.
Cassidy had, loudly and on several occasions, informed everyone that the upstairs was off limits. And she had even threatened to physically punish whoever didn't follow her rules.
She felt a weird surge of rebellion induced adrenaline shooting throughout her petite body. She didn't usually break the rules. Heck, she didn't even like to color outside of the lines. Living on the edge wasn't her thing, she enjoyed the safe, law-abiding, rule-following middle-ground.
But this was an emergency.
She looked over her shoulder as she quickly climbed the stairs. She might slightly enjoy her newfound rebellious streak, but she was still scared of Cassidy.
For some unknown reason, she could picture the blonde as a really talented bitch slapper.
She reached the top of the staircase and decided against turning on the hallway light, blindingly stumbling around the narrow space, letting her hands lead the way until her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness.
She located the bathroom door at the end of the hallway, approaching it quickly, opening it and stepping into the smallish, dark room before swiftly closing the door shot behind her.
And then a loud, masculine "EXCUSE ME" made both her and her heart jump, the latter relocating to her throat as she desperately pulled on the door handle, screamingly, loudly, pulling on the handle a little too hard as it broke off and as a result, she stumbled backwards, almost falling on her back on the floor before something, someone, caught her, his arms embracing her tightly and preventing her from falling.
She immediately wrestled out of the stranger's arms, reaching for the light switch, turning it on while turning around to face whoever had come up with the same brilliant idea as herself.
She swallowed hard as her eyes saw and her head processed who she was now locked in the bathroom with against her will.
Her stomach dropped and a few new swarms of butterflies suddenly came alive.
It was him.
Of course.
The butterfly-maker and heartbreaker.
Fuck.
He was looking extraordinarily heartbreaking tonight, his blond hair in a perfect mess and those eyes, the ones that were still hunting here in her dreams, reflecting surprise and perhaps some...nervousness?
She turned back around, ignoring him as she inspected the door, trying to find a way to open it but failing miserably.
So she did the only thing she could think of. She started to bang loudly on it.
"Ally..."
She answered, angrily, without turning around. The less she saw of him the better. "I'm surprised you still remember my name."
"Don't be ridiculous".
"Don't tell me what to not be."
He was quiet for a minute.
"They won't hear you, you know, the music is too loud."
She didn't answer.
Five minutes of loud door banging later, and she defeatedly stopped.
He had been trying to unnoticeably observe her.
He desperately wanted to bang her up against the door. Hard.
Shit, her hand was throbbing. That, and she couldn't hold it any longer.
She turned around, slowly, as if she was about to face off with satan himself.
"Austin...I...I really need to use the bathroom." She knew her face was the shade of strawberry.
He smirked. "Go ahead."
Fuck again.
Her life would be a hundred percent easier if only he had been about ninety nine percent less attractive.
"Not with you in here."
"Why not? It's not like I haven't already seen you naked."
"Please don't remind me." She tried to make a face of disgust but knew she failed as she was still blushing profusely.
Yes, he had seen her naked.
He happened to be the only one who had.
"Ah, don't pretend you didn't enjoy it." He didn't sound quite as confident as he wanted to, mostly because he was extremely non-confident that she actually had enjoyed it.
She wanted to punch him in the face and kick him in the balls, adrenaline fueled by a very different emotion was now surging through her.
She was suddenly furious.
"You know what Austin, I did. And I'm pretty sure you could tell I did. What I didn't enjoy was the harsh revelation that the sweetest person I have ever met somehow managed to become the biggest disappointment of my life, all in the matter of a couple of days."
Ouch. That hurt him. Even if he did deserve it.
So maybe he had avoided her for a few days after their...night...together.
But not because he didn't want her, not because he regretted it, not because he hadn't enjoyed it tremendously.
Oh, he had enjoyed it, alright.
No, he had been avoiding her only because he had been scared shitless.
Of her.
Of his feelings for her.
Of the fear that she would break his heart, break him.
She was perfect, everything and anything he had ever wanted.
He liked her so much that it almost physically hurt him to think about it.
"Austin, pleeeease, I really, really need to go."
She now sounded less mad, but utterly desperate, and he felt bad. He nodded, looking around the small space for a place to hide to give her some privacy.
"Fine. I'll be in the shower. Closing me eyes and covering my ears."
She watched closely as he stepped behind the shower curtain, closing it tightly and waiting a torturous additional minute before she finally got to complete what she had come there for in the first place. She could hear him lowly humming something to himself and she realized he was doing it so that he wouldn't hear her.
That was sweet. Surprisingly so.
She inspected herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. The slight blush of him bringing up their night together was still lingering on her face.
And the images of it was yet again lingering in her mind.
Part of her wanted to let him stay hidden in the shower for the rest of the night, or at least until someone would come and open the door from the other side, but she knew he would pop out sooner or later.
She called his name but he didn't respond. She walked over to the shower, quickly pulling the shower curtain out of the way and there he was, facing one of the side walls, his hands tightly covering his ears and his eyes closed shut.
Just like he had promised.
He looked adorable.
Charming.
The way she remembered him, regardless of how hard she was trying to forget.
She poked him in the stomach and he opened his eyes in surprise, letting out a sound reminiscent of someone getting hit by a baseball bat and she rolled her eyes at his blatant overreaction.
"Ouch."
So she had hurt him. Good. It felt good.
He stepped out of the shower as she reached into her purse for her cellphone, observing him reaching into his pocket, presumably for the same purpose through her peripheral vision.
Why hadn't they thought of that earlier?
She sighed as she realized that her reception was as strong as her desire to be locked in the upstair bathroom with Austin, namely ranging from zero to none.
At least that's what she was telling herself.
A loud, exasperated groan let her know that he apparently had the same shitty phone carrier.
"I guess we're stuck here." He sounded defeated but not overly annoyed.
Now she was the one groaning in exasperation and he tried to pretend that it didn't bother him that she was so upset about being trapped there with him. He really didn't mind. Truly.
He had only come to the party in the hope that she would show up anyways. Not that he had planned to talk to her, but observing her from afar had become his favorite pastime over the last month.
A few minutes of silence followed, her standing by and facing the large size vanity mirror, her back to him as he was sitting down on top of the toilet seat, checking out her ass while feeling like one.
"This is all your fault, you know." She didn't sound as mad as she intended.
"How is this my fault? You're the one who broke the handle."
He had a point. "If you hadn't scared me, I wouldn't have pulled on it so hard. And why were you in here in the dark anyways?"
He looked embarrassed. "I didn't want Cassidy to know I was up here."
She laughed. Apparently, she wasn't the only one scared of the hot-tempered blonde.
She laughed, and he died a little. Her laugh was rainbows and flowers and nice smells and candy and life.
"Ahhh, what are we going to do in here?" The question was really targeted at herself.
She could see his reflection in the mirror. He was checking out her ass. Jackass.
A jackass that she missed so much.
A jackass that she was insanely and crazily attracted to.
A jackass that she had been, scratch that, was in love with.
Even if she really didn't want to be.
His gaze on her made her tingly.
He knew what he wanted to do.
Her.
He shrugged. "I don't know. We can sing something?" They used to sing together all the time.
God, he missed her.
"I only know love songs and I don't think that's appropriate." Her voice, her beautiful voice, was dripping with acid, as if it had been dipped in some sort of lemon juice.
He started humming a song anyways, mostly to fill the air with something other than suffocating uncomfortableness and she had to bite her tongue not to sing along.
It was one of her favorites.
And he knew it was one of her favorites.
She sighed as he finished. "I don't get it."
"What?" He was genuinely curious.
"Nothing, I was just thinking out loud."
She did that a lot. It was one of the things that he liked or possibly loved about her.
One of many things.
"Just tell me, we're stuck in here, you might as well talk to me."
He was right. And he knew her well enough to know that it was downright impossible for her to keep quiet for lengthy periods of time.
Another deep sigh left her luscious lips. "I just don't understand love, or sex, or relationships. I mean, how can two people share something like that, that connection or whatever, those parts and pieces of themselves, and then just forget about it a few days, or even hours, later?"
He instinctively knew she wasn't talking about love or sex or relationships in general.
"I don't know about other people, but if you're talking about me, about...us, I haven't forgotten about it." His heart was racing. He had been waiting to talk to her forever, ever since that day when he had finally approached her and everything had gone wrong, just never finding the right opportunity or the guts.
He was still pretty much gut less, but the opportunity had been thrown at him as if someone above had planned it out, and he knew he wasn't going to get another chance like this.
"What?" She turned around to finally look at him.
"I think of that night...our night, all the time." Truth. He liked to adhere to it.
"Yeah, sure, while laughing it up with your friends." She meant to sound uncaring, nonchalant, but somehow it came out sad instead.
He looked appalled. "I haven't told anyone about...that."
"Why, you're ashamed?" Lemon was back. God, he hated that yellow fruit. It shouldn't even be allowed to be considered a fruit. It wasn't sweet. Like at all. Fruit should be sweet. She should be sweet.
Was he ashamed that he had somehow, he still had no clue how, been granted the extraordinary privilege to be with her, be inside of her, make love to her?
No. Ashamed definitely wasn't the correct description.
Elated was more like it. Out of his mind happy would work as well.
Making him want to yodel loudly form the rooftop was probably the most accurate description, though.
He hadn't told anyone because that was private. That was theirs.
"Now you're mad that I haven't told people?"
"No...I'm mad because I thought you were different. But honestly, I'm not really mad at you, I'm mad at me, because I fell for your nice guy act despite knowing that you are really not that good of an actor."
He was hurting again and not from her low-dig at his acting skills.
They happened to be excellent, by the way.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I disappointed you." He really meant it.
She had turned away from him again, nervously bouncing a small shampoo bottle in her dainty hand as if she didn't know what else to do, suddenly dropping it and quickly leaning down to catch it, the hem of her dress raising and for a split second, she was inadvertently and unknowingly flashing him her underwear before standing back up.
Aaaaaaahhhhhhh.
Oh, he wanted to feel those underwear between his teeth, rip that flimsy material into ridiculously tiny pieces while licking her skin in long wet strokes, tasting her skin, tasting her, explore all the exquisite parts of her that he hadn't gotten the chance to that first time around.
His dick hardened instantly, almost reflexively, as if his body was wired to, made to, respond to hers. As if it was made for her. As if he was made for her.
He moved around uncomfortably, hoping to somehow cover the hard-on that he wasn't sure he would be able to get rid off. He was trying to picture all sorts of non-sexy and disgusting things, but futilely so as anything he thought of automatically made its way back to the black teeny fabric situated between her heavenly thighs.
He wanted to be situated between her heavenly thighs and buried deep inside her heaven.
Aaaaaaahhhhhhh.
Her low voice, now colored with dejection, cut through the silence and interrupted his pointless attempts at calming himself.
"I just...I didn't think that you were that kind of guy, you know? I know we had made no promises, I know we weren't even officially dating or anything, but, I don't know, I guess I thought, you know, that it was special or something."
This was it. Fuck It. He was going to talk to her. Explain things. He really didn't have anything to lose.
It took him a few minutes to gather his thoughts.
"Ally..."
She wasn't looking at him but he knew she was listening.
"That night, our night...that was my first time too. My...my only time. And it was as special as it gets."
She shook her head.
"I don't know why you expect me to believe that or anything you say, for that matter."
"I know you don't believe me, but sex actually means something to me, Ally. You...you mean something to me. Meant something to me. Everything, actually. You meant everything to me. And I'm sorry if I hurt you, but you hurt me too. Hearing you say that you regretted it, I...that was probably the worst thing I have ever heard because it meant so fucking much to me."
The following silence was thick, so thick that he felt as if he was drowning in a large-sized batch of thick fudge.
"It did to me too." Her voice was more of a whisper, and at first he thought he might have misheard her.
"What?"
She knew he could hear her but was in disbelief of what she was saying.
"It meant a lot to me too."
It took him a minute to find his voice as his mind was running wild. "But you said it was a drunken accident! You told me it was the biggest mistake of your life, and I believe that that is a direct fucking quote."
He was almost yelling.
She felt some unwelcome tears burning in her eyes and she blinked them away. Damn it.
"You hadn't talked to me in almost a week, and you had clearly been avoiding me, so I thought you were coming to tell me that you thought it was a mistake, and I kind of just wanted to beat you to the punch."
She finally turned to look at him. He was running his fingers through his hair in rapid, annoyance-triggered movements.
Crap, she wanted to do that.
"Fuck Ally, the only reason why I was avoiding you was because I was nervous, so nervous, that you would have second thoughts, or that I hadn't been...good enough, I guess, and I was terrified that you would have realized that I'm not good enough for you, which would make sense because no one is, and then, when I finally gathered up the courage to speak to you, you shut me down and...I don't know...broke my heart. But that night was, and still is, the best fucking night of my life. I just thought you should know that."
"I broke your heart? You don't think I cared, about you, about us, you don't think I still fucking care?" Now she was yelling too.
Instantly, by no fault whatsoever on his part, he was no longer sitting down but instead standing right behind her, not touching her but close enough that if she would take a step back, her ass would rub up against him in the exact position that he desperately, prayer-sayingly, wanted her to.
She looked surprised but not necessarily disapproving.
"You still care about me? About...us?"
She nodded. In all honesty, there was nothing she cared more about.
He smiled as their gazes met and soon made love in the oversized mirror reflection, the two of them mere bystanders of the sex scene playing out between their almost matching sets of chocolate eyes, his penetrating hers in a perfect preview of things to cum.
Was she a little turned on by his close proximity? Maybe a tad. A tad the size of fucking Russia.
Was he a little turned on by her close proximity? Maybe a tad. He currently had a hard-on the size of fucking Russia.
And suddenly, she felt stupid. Why hadn't she just talked to him? All she wanted was to be with him.
He felt so damn stupid. Why hadn't he just talked to her? There was nothing in the freaking galaxy that he desired more than just being with her.
"For the record, I really wasn't that drunk. Like, at all." Her voice was lemon free. Sweet. Just the way he liked it.
He smiled. "I wasn't either".
A few more minutes of relentless eye fucking passed.
She wanted him. Badly. Desperately.
He wanted her. Desperately. Badly.
"Austin?"
He had to clear his throat before answering. "Yes?"
"Best night of your life, huh?"
Now he was blushing and all he could do was nod.
"I know something we can do in here to make this night even better ." Her voice was now dripping with something else.
Seductiveness.
He swallowed hard.
"And what's that?"
She took a step back and rubbed up against him, answering his prayers.
"A...memory refresher?"
Like he needed one. It, she, was his favorite memory of all time.
Every single detail form that forts time was permanently etched into his mind.
That didn't mean he minded a repeat, though.
He meant to verbally confirm his willingness to participate in her proposed activity, but he was currently speechless, so instead, he turned her around, having her face him for a second before his lips were drawn to her neck, almost on impulse, licking that skin that he had had a craving for, but been deprived of, for the last month. It tasted better than he could remember.
His mouth on her neck made her whole body come alive, and his short stubble, barely noticeable from afar but oh so noticeable up close, as in skin to skin close, was tickling her.
Funny how it didn't at all make her want to laugh. No, all she could do was moan.
He broke away for a minute, his eyes drilling into hers, the two of them just looking at each other, face to face, almost but not really nose to nose, the speed of their fast breaths increasing in unison.
And then they were mouth to mouth as he kissed her, hard, their tongues dancing in the disorganized rhythm of the screaming cat still blasting from the speakers downstairs.
She broke the kiss as she reached to remove his shirt, wanting to run her fingers over his chest and relishing in the response it elicited in him as his muscles contracted under her fingers.
She unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down and leaving him in his boxers, and then he surprised her by turning her around, pressing her up against the bathroom counter, bending her over and she moaned as his hands found their way I under her dress, letting his fingers trace the inside of her thighs as he was pressing his hardened , still boxer-covered cock up against her ass.
His fingers moved further north, soon rubbing her outside of her underwear, until he bent her over, her hands resting on the small vanity, as he pulled up her dress from behind, uncovering those sinful underwear that he had only gotten a glimpse of earlier, pulling them halfway down with his teeth before ripping them to pieces in one easy pull.
She shrieked in shock, but it soon turned into moans as he plunged a finger into her.
She was already soaking wet.
Their eyes were yet again glued to each other in the mirror as he was finger-fucking her from behind, hard and fast and wonderfully, the mirror reflection of her face contorted in pleasure enough to almost make him cum on the spot.
"I want you, Austin."
He didn't bother answering her with words, letting his actions speak for themselves as he turned her back around, removing her dress and her bra while she removed his underwear.
He lifted her now naked body up on the vanity, spreading her legs and situating his body between them as she reached for his dick, pumping him fast while he was sucking on her bare nipples, then letting his tongue travel all over neck, her chest, her stomach, as he tried to focus on other things than the impossibly wonderful sensations shooting out through his body, created by her hand on his cock.
"Now, Austin."
He followed her instructions as if it was a law, gently lifting her off the vanity, her wrapping her legs around him before he slowly lowered her down onto the shaggy bathroom carpet, her back pressing into the soft material as he immediately covered her with his much larger body and made her his once again.
She screamed as he filled her, his dick hitting her deep and hard and perfectly. They moved in synchrony, her hips meeting his movements, his mouth buried in her neck as his cock was acting as if it was rehearsing for some sort of trampoline competition, diving into her repeatedly, improving his performance and getting a higher score with each consecutive thrust.
He slowed down, unwillingly so but it was out of necessity or it would be over, soon hitting her slowly but rhythmically as her nails were digging into his back.
"I can do this all night." Her voice, a low whisper in his ear, was auditory sex and he almost blew it.
"Ally, believe me, there is no way in hell I'm going to last all night."
Or even a few more minutes.
He sped up slightly, nibbling on her neck while doing so, and he almost yodeled, in fucking gratitude this time, as he soon felt her cumming undone beneath him. He came hard inside of her as she was vibrating around him, squeezing him tight, oh so fucking tight, her wetness milking him dry in irregular movements of fucking euphoria and he was suddenly grateful for the loud music as the noises escaping his mouth may have the capability of waking up the dead.
He rolled off of her, laying next to her, embracing her and quietly holding her for a few minutes, until she moved away.
Her thoughts were spinning like a fast-moving dreidel in her busy head.
They both started to get dressed, her finishing first as she no longer had any underwear to put on, and not a minute later, the door flew open, revealing one of their drunk schoolmates who was too obliterated to even question what they were doing there.
They were both oddly relieved that it wasn't Cassidy.
And she suddenly processed exactly what had just happened.
Fuck.
She had fallen for it, for him. Again.
Damn it.
She was a good student, why couldn't she learn by her mistakes?
He was probably just going to ignore her again, pretend like nothing had happened...aaahhh, she needed to get out of there.
She walked out of the bathroom, speedingly, as if in panic, reaching the top of the staircase in record time before he caught up to her, pulling her to him as she had just started to take the first step downstairs, slamming her up against the nearby wall, bordering on roughly, his hot breath hitting her face as his entire body pressed into hers.
She could tell that he was definitely already for round two. No doubt about it.
He almost took her again then and there as he recalled that she wasn't wearing any underwear under that short dress.
"What, Austin? What do you want?" She tried to sound neutral, but it was as hard as he was.
"I'm not making the same mistake again. Ally, I'm so in love with you that I don't know what to do with myself." He smiled.
His smile evaporated her panic, turning her anxiety into shy excitement in a split second.
"Me too".
"What?"
"You heard me."
"What?"
"I'm in love with you too."
He smiled as she pulled her in for another kiss before they jointly descended the stairs, hand in hand, mouth on mouth, mouth in mouth, quickly leaving the party as they headed for round two.
At his house.
Upstairs.
Upcoming episodes; 5/11- Tickles & Tequila