by Claire Adams
“I’ll tell you if you give me a kiss,” he said, his dark eyes flashing. I rolled my eyes, grinning and giddy. I leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, pulling back before he could distract me by deepening the embrace.
“Okay—now tell me.” Devon laughed again, pulling my body down against his. At the odd afternoon hour, the frat was nearly deserted; the rest of the guys were either out at a game of one kind or another, or enjoying drink specials at a bar, or doing something else that took them off-campus. A few had even left before Devon and I had gotten up for the day to go home and visit their families.
“I’m taking you out for a really nice dinner, and a movie,” Devon told me, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. He smiled slowly. “You deserve a reward for being such a great tutor, and I thought it would be great to reward you this way.” I looked down at him, smiling myself.
“God I’m so lucky,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “You do know that I’d tutor you even if you didn’t reward me for it other than by screwing my brains out, right?” Devon laughed out loud, pulling me down against him, kissing me on the lips hungrily.
“Considering you didn’t even know I was planning this, yes—I know,” he told me finally. “You’ve got two hours to get ready, babe.”
I spent a little more time cuddling and kissing Devon before I finally pulled myself up and went into the bathroom. I had set aside one or two really nice outfits when I’d packed to come and stay with him, so at least I wouldn’t have to make a trip back to the dorms just for that. I took a shower and decided that I would need to really look my absolute best—and apparently, Devon thought the same way. While I was blowing my hair out and putting my makeup on, Devon showered quickly and got dressed in a pair of dress pants and a dress shirt, along with a tie.
Devon sat back in his room as soon as he was finished getting ready, and I felt him watching me as I slipped into my dress; it was dark blue, with a soft pink floral pattern scattered across it unobtrusively, and long sleeves. I had a pair of low, navy blue heels to wear with it, and my bra and underwear were practically invisible underneath. I stood before him as I smoothed the dress down against my legs, smiling slightly. “God, you look great, babe,” Devon said, his gaze trailing over me slowly, taking in every inch of my body. “Not that you don’t always look good, but man.” He shook his head in disbelief. I blushed, shrugging and checking my makeup in his mirror quickly. I knew I looked amazing—that was the point.
When we arrived at the restaurant, I was shocked; even though Devon had told me we were going somewhere nice, I was surprised to see how nice the place was. The restaurant was certainly nowhere I would never decide to go on my own—a French place called La Four, with a price tag that I knew would be out of my normal reach even before I looked at the menu. Devon held my hand as the hostess led us to our table, and as I looked around the room, it was obvious to me that we were the youngest people in the building who weren’t working there.
“How can you afford this?” I asked Devon in a whisper as I looked over the menu. I tried to think in my head about how many hours I would have to work—how much in tips I would have to make—in order to be able to justify coming to a restaurant like this. All of my money went to cover my costs at the school; all of the things that my grants and scholarships didn’t cover, like books and lab materials and food. Devon shrugged, smiling slowly.
“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands during my suspension,” he said. “So I took a little side-job. One of the guys works for a restaurant in the offseason, and he got me a gig washing dishes and bussing tables.” I shook my head in disbelief, smiling to myself. “I made just enough to take you out for a great dinner and a movie—and as soon as I get back on the team, I can work whenever they need me but I don’t really need the money.”
We ordered foie gras and escargots for our hors d’oeuvre, giggling slightly to ourselves at the fact that while we knew what those things were, neither of us had ever tried them before. I had steak au poivre for my entrée—at Devon’s insistence—while he had duck, and for dessert, we shared a soufflé. I had never had a meal so rich, so delicious in my life; while the idea of eating liver had never sounded particularly great to me, the foie gras was like meaty butter on the crispy toast—absolutely amazing, with a lingering taste of some rich, aromatic alcohol. The escargots were better than I expected, and the steak with its creamy pepper sauce and French fries tasted so good that I could barely believe that it only had a handful of ingredients. Devon and I shared bites of our food with each other, and I tried duck for the first time; while I liked my steak better, I couldn’t deny that Devon’s meal was absolutely as delicious as mine.
By the time we left the restaurant, I was so thoroughly stuffed with food that I couldn’t even imagine getting any kind of snacks at the movie theater. Devon bought us tickets for an action-comedy, joking with me that since it was my date night, he would insist that we had to watch some weepy romance until I gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. He bought us both sodas and we piled into our seats at the back, giggling and still amazed at the dinner we’d just had.
I barely paid any attention to the movie at all, and I knew that Devon didn’t see much more of it than I did; we were both so interested in each other, so keyed up and eager to get back to the frat house and be alone together that I almost suggested to him that the movie had been a bad idea—we weren’t getting our money’s worth. But I was happy to sit with him in the darkness, giggling and whispering to each other, teasing each other with sly little touches every few minutes and talking about what little of the movie’s plot we both managed to take in. Eventually we gave up completely on the pretext of watching the movie and took advantage of the fact that we were the only two people in the back row, plunged into the darkest depths of the theater, to make out, pulling up the armrest that separated us.
“We could have had sex right there,” Devon said as we walked out at the end of the movie, hand in hand, “and apart from you making noises, no one would have ever known.” I laughed, tingling all over, my whole body hot with the need to get Devon alone once more—truly alone, in his room, naked in my arms.
“We could have just timed it so that all my moaning was during the loud parts,” I pointed out, although I’d never really been interested in having sex in public. Devon gave my hand a squeeze and helped me into his car, stopping to give me another long, lingering kiss on the lips.
I was almost trembling with pent-up desire by the time Devon parked his car along the street leading to the frat house, letting me out of the passenger side and taking my hand. I was already so wet that I was soaking through my panties, my skin tingling and my nerves crackling with lust. Devon and I breezed through the living room, all but ignoring the other guys in the frat who greeted us, barely even giving them a wave as we went up the stairs to his room. He closed the door behind us and pinned me against it, kissing me hungrily, his hands wandering over my body with greedy need, and I knew he was every bit as turned on as I was.
I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against me as I deepened the kiss, letting my hands trail over his shoulders, along his back. Devon broke away from my lips after a few moments, kissing and nipping along the column of my throat as I panted and gasped for breath. His hands slid along my sides, around to my back, feeling for the zipper on my dress. “Fuck, babe,” Devon murmured against my skin. “I have been thinking about this all night, ever since you put this dress on.” I chuckled breathlessly, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging slightly as I squirmed and writhed against the hard door.
Devon finally found my zipper and tugged it down along my spine, making me shiver at the feeling of cold wood against my hot skin. He peeled the fabric down over my arms, along my waist, letting it fall to my feet, and as he pulled back to admire me in my bra and panties, I felt myself blushing in spite of the fact that he had seen me naked so many times before. “Hey,” I said, swallowing against the tightness i
n my throat. “You’re still dressed. That’s not fair.” I reached out, grabbing the knot on his tie, and pulled him back to me, kissing him eagerly as I loosened the tie. Devon’s hands slid and slipped all along my body, cupping my breasts and then drifting down to my hips. He nipped and nibbled at my bottom lip playfully, pulling me free of the door and guiding me towards the bed.
I pulled the silk necktie free of Devon’s collar and started to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, my fingers fumbling as my hands shook with the absolute need to get him naked. I wanted to feel his whole body pressed against mine, his skin rubbing against me—I needed to feel him inside of me like I needed to keep breathing. Devon lifted me up onto his bed and finished unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off of himself and throwing it behind him without even looking to see where it landed, and I laughed, breathless and full of desire. He wrapped his arms around me, his fingers sliding up my spine until he came to the band of my bra. Devon kissed me hungrily as he unhooked the clasp, gently guiding the straps down off of my shoulders and the fabric of my bra away from my skin.
He cupped my breasts in his hands, giving them a careful squeeze. My nipples hardened into firm little nubs and Devon began to work them with his fingertips, twisting and rolling them until I cried out at the jolts of pleasure that shot through my body, seemingly traveling directly to my pussy, making me wetter and wetter, making my inner muscle tighten in erratic spasms. I reached down and somehow managed to unbuckle his belt and open his fly, reaching my hand down past the waistband of Devon’s boxers to wrap my hand around his hot, hard cock. Devon groaned against my lips, against my neck, as I stroked him slowly, loving the velvety-soft feeling of his skin against my palm, the sticky, slick trickle of precum flowing from the tip.
Devon tugged my panties down over my hips, pushing me onto my back, stepping back unsteadily to admire the sight of me naked. I watched him, fascinated, as Devon finished the work of stripping himself that I had started, pushing his pants and boxers down to his knees and then letting the fabric fall to the ground, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of the last of his clothes all in one movement. He covered my body with his own, pinning me down against the bed, kissing me until I was breathless.
Devon rocked his hips against mine, and I moaned out, pushing my hips down to meet his, as I felt his hot, hard cock rubbing all along my labia. We teased each other for what felt like an hour, bodies pressed together, hands wandering everywhere, kissing each other anywhere our mouths could reach. I was soaking wet—I could feel Devon’s cock becoming slicker every moment as the tip of his erection brushed and rubbed against my clit, making me tingle, making me hotter and wetter by the second. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him; if I didn’t grip his body tightly against mine, I shook almost uncontrollably—but I wasn’t willing to give up on the delicious torture even though I felt like I might die if I didn’t get off soon.
I twisted and writhed, my hands exploring Devon’s body, my heart pounding in my chest as I became more and more turned on. “Fuck—shit, Dev,” I moaned between gasps as he rocked steadily against me, rubbing so constantly that I thought I might come just from that. “I need—I need you inside me. Please, babe. Please.” Devon chuckled lowly, kissing me on the lips as he shifted against my body. I felt his fingers brushing against my soaking wet folds as he guided his cock up against me, and then in a moment I had my wish; he thrust into me slowly, pushing past the resistance of my body inch by inch, filling me up. I felt my muscles flexing around him in little spasms of pleasure as Devon rocked his hips, pushing deeper and deeper inside of me.
His hips pressed flush against mine, Devon went absolutely still for a long moment. I gasped and panted for breath, tingling in every nerve of my body, already on the edge of orgasm; I had been waiting so long for this, it seemed like it had been hours—it seemed like it had been my entire life. Devon finally began to move, rocking his hips slowly and steadily, pulling out of me almost completely before pushing deep and deeper inside of me. I kissed him hungrily, my hands wandering all over his shoulders and back as we moved together, my hips falling into his rhythm. Devon kissed me all over—my face, my neck, down onto my breasts as we moved together, slowly building up speed.
Devon reached down between our bodies, his hand gliding over my sweat-slick skin, and I cried out as he began to stroke and rub my clit, finding it by touch, in counterpoint to his thrusts. The tip of his cock brushed up against my g-spot, making me moan out his name again and again; I wanted to hold back, but it was completely impossible—within moments, it seemed like every last shred of self-control deserted me. Devon thrust into me harder and faster, rubbing against my pleasure centers with his fingers and his cock. I almost screamed as wave after wave of sensation washed through me, making every muscle in my body tense and relax in spasms that were so intense they might have been pain instead of pleasure. I barely heard Devon moaning, murmuring praise in my ear as he continued to move inside of me, making my orgasm more intense.
My own climax was just beginning to abate as I felt Devon’s cock twitching inside of me. He thrust into me hard and fast, and even as I struggled to catch my breath, I felt the first slick gush of his orgasm flooding into me. I came a second time, twisting and shifting my hips against Devon’s as both moaned out, clutching at each other as if for life itself. Every nerve in my body tingled, and as Devon slowed against me, thrusting until the very last spasm of pleasure tapered off, I was so full of sensation, bubbling up with it, that I started giggling, in spite of how breathless I was. Panting, Devon lifted himself up onto his elbows, looking down at me with love in his eyes.
“Now…don’t you think…that was worth…a night off?” He asked me, kissing me lightly on the lips. I laughed even harder, gasping as my heart fluttered in my chest.
“Y-y-yes,” I managed to say, grabbing at his shoulders, struggling to get my giggling under control so that I could catch my breath. “Yes, it was.”
Chapter Seven
If I had been worried about the effect that another night off would have on Devon’s interest in studying enough to pass his ACT, when I woke up Sunday morning—the day before the test—Devon was already hard at work, skimming over passages that I had highlighted in one of the prep books. “Morning, babe,” Devon said, grinning at me. “I got the coffee brewed, and one of the other guys is going to make us breakfast—I can’t guarantee it’ll be as good as mine, but we’ve got to hit the ground running, don’t we?” I laughed, sitting up in bed.
“I guess we do,” I said, delighted to see that Devon was already hard at work. I pulled on some pajamas so that I could actually go down to the kitchen with him to eat, and right away—even as we devoured the fried eggs and ham that Devon’s frat brother made—we started in on the last preparation that he would need to be able to take the test the next day.
We spent the entire day reviewing the material, going over everything over and over again, and I was continually amazed at Devon’s ability to focus. He was even more determined than I was to get the best possible score, and as I quizzed him, exhausting every last practice test in all three books over the course of the entire day of studying together, I started to think that Devon might actually end up with a better score than I had gotten. The competitive part of my nature was a little shaken by that; but I had to admit to myself that as long as Devon proved himself to the school, and as long as he was able to clear his name, it didn’t matter to me in the end which one of us had the better ACT score. Besides, if he does better than you, you can at least claim partial credit for his success from tutoring him, I reminded myself.
We took breaks, fooling around for ten or fifteen minutes, eating lunch and dinner and watching a little TV just to break up the various sections, but Devon was willing to dive back into reviewing material the moment I was, taking his cues from me. We decided that we weren’t going to go at it all night; even though Devon was prepared to keep going, I knew from my own experiences that it was better for him to
get a full night’s sleep than it would be to spend the whole night grinding away at the material.
As we lie in bed together, touching each other playfully, I told Devon, “Whatever happens tomorrow, I’m proud of all the work you did. You might actually get a better score than me!” Devon laughed.
“I doubt it. But I should be able to at least justify getting that scholarship, thanks to you.” He kissed me, wrapping his arms around me tightly and holding me close in the darkness.
“How soon will you know?” It had taken weeks for me to get the scores back on my ACT; it didn’t seem logical for the school to take that long, when he had already missed one basketball game and a week of classes.
“They’re going to grade it then and there,” Devon told me. “Special circumstances. So I’ll know right away.” I cuddled close to him in the bed.
“Are you going to even be able to sleep?” I asked him. I could remember, all too well, the fact that in spite of going to bed early on the nights before my tests, I seemed to stay up for hours, nervous and anxious and ready to get it over with. Devon shifted against me in the darkness, and I could feel his cock pressing against me, starting to get hard.
“Maybe I could use a little help,” he suggested, murmuring lowly in my ear. I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him, kissing him hungrily. I was only too happy to oblige.
The next morning, I woke up to find Devon already awake, lying in the bed next to me and looking up at the ceiling. For a long moment I debated whether or not to skip class; I knew there was no point to it, but the temptation wavered nonetheless. It wasn’t as though I could go with him into the testing center—that would only make it seem like Devon was cheating again. In any case, I needed to be in class. I couldn’t just put my life on hold—I had to keep my grades up, and if there was no reason for me to be out of class for the day, I should just go.