The Wilmington Woman s ClubChapter 28 Introducing Nick Fitzgerald
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The Wilmington Woman's ClubChapter 9: 1982 - Janet Fowler - Fitzgerald free porn video
Twenty-four-year-old Janet Fowler's brown hair was tied back in a pony tail. Her face was soft and round, with pink cheeks, a small nose, and an overbite that almost looked comical, but emphasized her very full, pink lips. Her brown eyes were hidden by sunglasses. She wore a formless blue sweatshirt, which obscured her smallish, but beautiful naturally pear-shaped breasts. She more than compensated for this by showing off her eye-popping ass by wearing the tightest jeans on campus, or so her girlfriends readily conceded, when pushed.
Janet had two goals remaining for her senior year at UNCW, to learn how to drive a stick shift, and drink a guy under the table. The pert advertising major was just about to master one of them — as she adroitly darted around the campus in her bright red Volkswagen Beetle.
"You've just about got it, Jan," Flossie her paid instructor said as they roared past the library. "Pull over, let the campus police pass you, they're about a block behind you."
Janey did as she was told, pulling to the curb and putting the bug in neutral as the campus police drove by without so much as a second glance at her.
"Hey, fuck 'em, they can't take a joke," she said, and shook her head clearing her hair out of her eyes.
Janet had a foul mouth, and put most guys to shame on the many holidays students used as excuses for binge drinking. Flossie ignored her, having heard her express herself in this manner more often than not.
"Let's see if you can get us around campus one more time without screwing up the gears."
"Hey, I've done it twice now, what the fuck do you want from me?"
"Perfection, girl, I want no grinding of gears, that's all. Is that so ... fucking much?" she added thinking the foul language would drive home the point she was making.
"And what did we agree on earlier?"
"No fucking drinking and driving," Janet said, with an impish grin.
"Right, let some cowboy drive you home. They'd be happy to wreck their daddy's car with you in it. But don't let them speed."
"Makes sense to me," Janet said agreeably. "They can't drink; they sure as hell can't drive. But then if they can't drive, why the fuck am I letting them drive me?"
"Because you don't want your insurance rates going through the roof and you want to keep this little bugger pristine for the rest of the semester."
"Oh, yeah," she replied as if understanding Flossie's rationale for the very first time, when in fact, Flossie drummed it into her on a daily basis.
Flossie knew very well that Janet had a tendency to go wild after downing a couple pitchers of beer on a Friday night. Only the week before she'd gotten into an argument with two guys after fucking the both of them, and put her fist through the passenger window of their car.
But that incident did not deter her from going out the following night and flashing her bandaged hand to anyone showing the slightest interest and would follow by recounting the incident, embellishing the fact that she'd fucked them both and had broken the window when they couldn't get it up any longer.
Janet managed to drive the Bug around the campus, not once, but twice more without grinding the gears. Flossie pronounced her a successful driver of stick-shift vehicles, kissed her on the cheek and bade her goodbye. They would meet at church on Sunday. Janet then drove the few blocks to her little apartment off campus; showered, shaved her legs, and put on a fresh pair of jeans and T-shirt, before going out to join her girlfriends at Paddy's Hollow, nestled downtown just off the Cape Fear River.
It was a fairly blustery Friday night, and Janet and two of her girlfriends, dressed in unseasonable short sleeved T-shirts with sexy slogans printed on the front, downed cocktails and took shots of "buttery nipples," a syrupy blend of butterscotch schnapps and Baileys Irish Cream. It was a weekend smack dab in the middle of midterms, but they closed down the bar anyway.
Janet was seriously telling Joan, who sat next to her that, "You don't want to be that dumb girly girl who looks wasted, you know ... and can't hold her liquor. I know it's juvenile, but I've had boys comment how impressed they are at the amount of alcohol I've consumed."
"Yeah," Joan replied, her words only slightly slurred, "S'like a badge of hon ... honor or something."
"Absolutely right!" Janet said agreeably, "To be able to drink like a guy is kind of a badge of honor. And for me, it's a feminism thing."
Lizzie, the girl sitting on the other side of Joan, leaned in and stamping out her cigarette said, "They had a keg stand over at Bobby's fraternity last night."
"What the fuck's a keg stand?" Janet asked.
"You know," Lizzie said haughtily, "Ya get two guys to hold you over a keg of beer by your ankles and you guzzle as much beer as fast as you can." Lizzie beamed at Joan and Janet. "There was a girl there went longer than one of the guys!"
"Only one of them?" Janet asked.
Confused by Janet's question, Lizzie said, "Yeah ... just one of them. Ain't that enough?"
Janet took a sip from her glass and asked, "I wonder ... was she wearing a skirt?"
Lizzie pondered this, and then let out a lewd laugh. "Well I hope it wasn't her polka dot panties under it."
Ignoring Lizzie's comment, Janet sneered and said, "Fucking pricks, I wanna drink them all under the table."
Knowing Janet could turn into a nasty bitch, but not really fearful of her, Lizzie said," Well, the guys thought she was awesome. Two of them actually fought over her to see who'd take her home."
"You mean who was gonna fuck her," Janet said.
"Well ... maybe," Lizzie conceded.
"Hopefully somebody got laid," Joan offered, and all three broke up laughing. And, spying three guys wandering into the Hollow, she added, "Speaking of which, anyone in a party mood?" she asked.
"I wouldn't mind hooking up with that tall one," Janet said quickly.
"His friend in the red sweater's nice too," Lizzie said.
"Oh, you're leaving me the short, dumpy one?" Joan laughed.
"Hey, it's only a one night stand, right?" Lizzie said trying to placate Joan.
"Do I have to get drunk to have a one night stand?" Joan asked rhetorically.
"No, but you meet a nicer kind of person that way," Janet giggled and cracked the others up.
"Oh, Janet, you're such a slut," Lizzie said, throwing her arm around her.
"Kiss me, we'll get the guys hard," Janet laughed.
Lizzie kissed her lightly on the mouth.
They all heard the remark made by the tallest of the three men. "Fucking lesbians, I thought we'd find some gash here."
"They might not be lesbians," the shortest said, hopeful that the girls would hear him and magically offer their bodies to him.
"Janet," Joan said, "Did you bring those condoms?"
"Sure, when you're smashed you're liable to have sex with damn near anyone; even that short dumpy one."
The three guys moved in on the girls, struck up a conversation, and bought a round of drinks. The tallest one was Roger, the red sweater was Giles, and the short one was Barry.
Roger hit on Janet, but was rebuffed when she downed her drink before he'd even raised his glass. She let a hand drop onto Giles thigh, and cemented their relationship for the night. Lizzie was intrigued by Barry's sense of humor and obvious lust for her. Any guy who wanted her that badly deserved her, she told herself, and signaled Janet that she'd selected Barry, who she'd just discovered had the car.
Joan and Roger went off to dance, and after another round of drinks, Janet and Lizzie left for the parking lot with Giles and Barry.
Less than ten minutes later, Janet was gritting her teeth and hanging onto the top edge of the car window to avoid banging her head as Giles pounded into her.
In the back seat, Barry elated over the tongue that Lizzie had sent swarming into his mouth, gasped, "Want me to eat you? I will, you want."
"Oh, that's classy, Billy," she replied, getting his name wrong, "Here I am, smashed out of my mind and you're asking me such personal questions."
"I'm Barry," he protested, but said nothing further because she had confused the hell out of him.
The car seat was rubbing Janet's knees raw; her hair was a mess, blown up around her face so that she could hardly see, and her tits, small as they were, were being pummeled by the arm rest she was crushed up against. All in all she wasn't enjoying this particular fuck except for the fact that Giles was ramming her pussy with a hot, greasy cock so hard and fast that he had the car rocking and squealing. Janet began to wonder if all the friction could start a fire.
"Are you a virgin or something?" Barry inquired of Lizzie.
"Or something," she answered, already sorry she had passed on Roger. And when Barry made no attempt to answer her, Lizzie was moved to ask, "Why do you care so much if I am or not, anyway? You got me back here in the interests of purity?"
"I'm not looking for purity," he said, "I offered to eat you. I hope to God if I do that you're clean down there."
Lizzie rolled her eyes, and spread her legs at the same time. "Have at it, buster, but you'd better be good."
Not believing his luck, Barry dove between her legs, and actually gave a fairly decent performance, getting Lizzie off twice before tiring and having to stop and rest.
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