Stupid BoyChapter 6 Kentucky
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Getting Lucky In Kentucky Ch. 02 free porn video
What the Hell did I do yesterday, and what do I do now? I asked myself, in thought. I let that absolute asshole Doc just lead me up to a private area behind the stage in the Student Center Ballroom, pull off my pants, eat my pussy, and fuck me, fuck me silly. Part of me wanted to say it was rape, but I knew it wasn’t: he held my hand in leading me there, but I could have pulled away from him, and never tried. There were several times when he let go of my hand, and I could have walked away, but I never took the first step away from him. When he said that he was going to eat my pussy, I didn’t say no, I just told him not to expect anything in return. I hated his guts, I still hate his guts, but man, that was an awesome fuck. I want to tell myself, never again, but now that I know what Doc can actually do, if he wants to screw again, I just know that I will.
Doc was his nickname, of course, for doctor. It wasn’t that he was a doctor, but his initials were D R, so it came naturally. If he was a real doctor, he’s such an asshole that he’d have to be a proctologist.
Problem is, what the Hell has he told our friends? I know how guys are, and how they like to brag, and Doc is a bigger asshole than almost any other guy I’ve ever know. The nasty fucker just stares at my tits sometimes, like he thinks he’s Superman and is using his X-Ray vision or something. All of the rest of the girls are small-busted, and half of them don’t wear bras, because they can get away with it, but my tits are just too damned big, and I can’t go without. I guess that I’m lucky that we’re almost always sitting down at the coffee shop tables, or he’d probably leer at my ass as well.
Well, I’ve got two choices: I can go on with our normal group, like nothing has happened, and if Doc didn’t say anything, I guess it’ll all be OK. Or, I can stay away and hide, but I don’t want to give up the rest of my friends just to avoid a scene with Doc there.
So, I walked into the coffee shop, and there was the whole gang, and yup, Doc was already there. ‘Do y’all need a coffee run while I’m up, or is everyone good?’ I asked when I got to the table. In our group, it seemed like it was always somebody’s turn to bring back a whole tray of coffee.
‘Nope, we’re good, Doc just bought,’ Thea told me. So, I went up to the line and got just one coffee, for myself. Then I saw Doc walking to the line, by himself.
‘I’m just getting myself a sandwich, kind of for cover, but just so you know, I haven’t said a word, and won’t,’ he said, kind of quietly to me, as he passed me in the line.
‘Thanks,’ I managed to mumble.
I finally started to relax back with the group. Yeah, there are about a dozen of us, moving in and out of our little clique, but even within that dozen, we don’t all have the same interactions with each other. Thea’s husband, Randy, is a UK football player, but he’s pretty much an end-of-the-bench guy. He stays on the team because he has his full-ride athletic scholarship, and, since he’s married, both Thea and he get free room-and-board in Cooperstown, the married-and-graduate student UK apartment/dorms. That was a good deal for them, I suppose, but the hallways in Cooperstown always smelled not-so-faintly of baby-puke and baby-poop. Doc’s half of the clique, mostly guys, and my side, mostly girls, kind of meet in the middle, with the two married couples, but a lot of our discussions are fairly separate.
Thing is, I caught myself sneaking glances at Doc, something I never used to do before. I don’t think that anyone noticed, other than Doc, but he did: he caught me sneaking a glance, but that was OK, because he had to be looking at me to catch me.
‘Dude, where’s your brain today?’ I overheard Ken ask Doc.
‘No place, really. I’ve got a project due on Wednesday, and stuff I’ve got to get done at my apartment as well, and that stuff has been on my mind.’ After that, he wound up back in the sports conversation, like he was never interrupted. He might be an asshole, but at least he was being an honorable asshole for the time being.
And I’d have to watch myself: the girls here are all a bit more perceptive than the guys, and I hadn’t really been taking part in the conversation very much. Joely and Dianne were sure to guess that something’s up if I don’t get back to normal.
Things settled down over the next few days, and I was able to enjoy being with my friends without worrying anymore that the beans were going to get spilled, when it happened: I was coming into the coffee shop when it was Doc’s turn to fetch coffee. He saw me noticing him, and mouthed to me, silently, ‘I want you.’
Holy crap! My emotions had been settling down since our rough fuck, and now he pushed that memory right up into the front of my brain. I still don’t like him, but all of a sudden I was feeling that tingling down below. This is definitely not what I need right now. But I couldn’t help myself: I walked up to him and asked, ‘When?’
‘Eleven o’clock, same place.’
An hour from now. Crap! I knew better, knew better! than to do this, but as I sat at the table with our friends, I kept sneaking peeks at Doc, who was managing to look completely normal and nonplussed. The man has a poker face if there ever was one.
Poker face, that’s just about the right description. He wasn’t handsome at all, actually a bit on the ugly side, with a long face that looked like he’d had bad acne a few years ago. He was really tall, and rawboned, looking strong – I already knew that he was strong – with hard edges. He looked like he’d been a few fights in his lifetime, and probably won them. Even if I didn’t despise his personality, he’s no one I’d ever have picked for a boyfriend based on his looks. Yet there I was, watching the clock tick toward eleven.
It was about quarter till when he got up to leave. Hmmm, he was actually taking an effort to not have us not be seen leaving together. A few minutes later, I excused myself. My knees were actually trembling, and I was already soaking wet in anticipation of this. What the Hell was wrong with me?
The entrance to the Student Center ballroom – that’s what it was called, though I never heard of any actual balls being held there, except when Doc and I balled behind the stage, anyway – was up a set of double stairs, kind of like Reb Tevye’s song, ‘One long staircase just going up, another even longer going down’ – by the little-used South Limestone Street entrance, with an open foyer before the double doors, and that’s where Doc was sitting, waiting for me. He had a coarse, male smile on his face, and then said, ‘Looks like it’s a no go, workers are in there, setting up the place for some sort of lecture. But I’m glad you came, anyway, I wasn’t completely sure that you would.’
With that, he put both hands on the sides of my head, and pulled me into a hard kiss. It wasn’t romantic, and it wasn’t polite, and he certainly never asked me, it was a powerful, hungry kiss. He still had coffee on his breath.
‘I don’t know why I came over, I should have just let you sit here, waiting.’
‘I know why you showed up. You showed up because the last time was awesome, and you’ve been getting horny thinking about round two. Well, so have I.’
‘So, that’s it, just ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ sex? Between us we’ve got a dick and a pussy, so we might as well use them?’
‘The way we’ve been to each other? Somehow I didn’t think that you were interested in me romancing you, and I sure never thought that would work.’
‘An oaf like you wouldn’t know how to romance a woman anyway.’
_________________________
Sharon and I couldn’t go back to the coffee shop without it raising questions that neither of us wanted, so we headed out, separately. My next class wasn’t until 2:00 PM, so I decided to head back to my apartment, it was only a ten minute walk away. I could grab lunch and, quite frankly, jack off. I was horny as Hell, and had planned to take care of that w
ith Sharon, but those plans got destroyed. Maybe I could pick up some chick over at the Clubhouse this evening . . . .
I was walking up Rose Street, fairly quickly, when all of a sudden, like the Grinch, I thought of something I hadn’t thought of before. I had dismissed the notion of romancing Sharon with derision, but . . . . then, I started taking stock of the situation, and my feelings. Sharon wasn’t the prettiest girl around, but she was still kind of cute. Her figure was, well, just plain stacked, the girl had a nice set of tits on her!
But, so do a lot of other girls around campus. If I actually wanted a girlfriend, I could find someone better looking than Sharon, without the drama, and without her thinking that I’m an asshole. She’s a sassy bitch, but she’s no dummy, she’s actually pretty smart.
I actually stopped, in the middle of the sidewalk, at the intersection of Rose Street and Lyndhurst Place. Damn, maybe Sharon is worth more than just a quick, rough fuck. I mean, I know that she’s had some hard knocks in life, so have I. What would happen if . . .?
I turned left onto Lyndhurst, crossed the street and went up the stairs into my apartment. It was an old building, with squeaky hardwood floors. I opened the door to my apartment, dropped my book bag on the couch, and took stock. The place was a mess! There were dirty dishes in the sink, the floors were filthy, the bed hadn’t been made in a month, and there were old newspapers on the coffee table. My book case – such as it was: boards stacked on top of concrete blocks – was mostly empty, while books were laying around, all over the place, some still opened.
Almost without thinking, I started cleaning up. It only took a few minutes to pick up the books and put them away. The old newspapers, picked up and put in the garbage. This old building had garbage chutes at the back end of the hall, down to the building incinerator. Then I started on the dishes. I didn’t have many dishes, so there weren’t that many to wash, but it took some chiseling to get the cooked-on crap out of my iron skillet. I even changed the sheets and made the bed.
I got so involved in this that I almost didn’t leave for my last class on time. I made it, sliding into my seat just in time, but I really couldn’t concentrate on class as the professor droned on. Somehow, I couldn’t get the notion of romancing Sharon out of my mind.
The strangest part was that I wasn’t thinking of romancing her just because she said that an oaf like me wouldn’t know how, but because I wanted to romance her. Somehow, I had stopped thinking of her as a nasty bitch who just happened to be an awesome lay, and was actually thinking of her as maybe a girlfriend. Not only did I want to romance her, but I wanted to mean it. Too bad there was the little problem of her hating my guts. Me not thinking of her as a nasty bitch didn’t mean that she wasn’t a nasty bitch, a complete and total bitch.
Then again, maybe she was a total bitch because I expected her to be a total bitch, and treated her like she was a total bitch.
Well, I needed to get my head out of the clouds, because I have a project paper due tomorrow, and thinking about Sharon isn’t going to get it done!
Wednesday morning:
Ughhh! I managed to knock out that paper last night, but it sure wasn’t easy: it took me until 1:30 AM, partly because I kept day-dreaming about a girl who hates my guts. That’s somewhere between stupid and insane.
And there she was, at the table with everybody else, when I got to the coffee ship. I had made a resolution to myself to treat Sharon pleasantly so that, if she was bitchy toward me, it wouldn’t be because I had been an ass to her. I had also drawn a little map, showing where my apartment was. I didn’t have anything ready for this evening, but I thought I just might ask her over for dinner for Thursday. The worst that could happen was that she’d say no. The only problem: finding a way to ask her without the other’s hearing me.
It took a while. I wound up having to wait until she was getting ready to head for her 11:00 AM class. I got up, too, about thirty seconds after she did, just so it wouldn’t look like we were leaving together. Sharon was gone, and as soon as I was out of sight, I sprinted to catch up to her.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Still trying to find a corner to molest me in?’
‘I’ve already found it, but not to molest you. Sharon, would you have dinner with me at my place tomorrow evening?’
She just stopped short, right in the middle of the walking path, and stared at me. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘Nope! I’m trying to be nice to you, and ask you out, politely.’
‘Cut the bullshit. I let you fuck me in the back of the ballroom, without you being nice. You didn’t have to fake being nice to get into my pants before.’ She said that loudly enough that a couple of students passing us heard her, and laughed.
‘What if I’m not faking? Homemade spaghetti and meatballs, a salad, and some wine. Here’s my phone number, address, and a small map to help you find it. Seven o’clock?’
Sharon just kept looking at me, still stunned. Finally she said, ‘Tomorrow morning, at the table, I’ll give you a thumbs up or thumbs down. That’ll be your answer.’
Aeryn
- 12.06.2022
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