Bitch, I Love You - Sex Stories

Bitch, I Love You

... idiot to complain."

I squeezed the base of his cock tight, watching it redden. Was he the kind of guy who could go multiple times, I wondered.

"Don't worry though. I was serious about staying single. This is all I wanted," I said.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. But you're happy I said it, right?"

He paused before answering. "Yeah. Honestly, I was kinda sketched that you know where I live."

"That's not a weird thing to know!"

"Woah, hey, it's cool now. You seem, cool." Davin backtracked quickly. It might have had something to do with me angrily waggling his cock about.

"I just sucked your dick, and I seem, cool?"

"Shit. Sorry. I'm, uh. Not great with words."

"Relax, dude, I'm just messing with you." I leaned in and gave his cock a kiss, "Mwah! That was fun."

"Oh, right. Can I, uh, do something for you?

"That's sweet," I said. Actually, it seemed like the bare fucking minimum, but even that scored points on this campus. "But I'm down for maintenance." It was a lie, but I didn't want to go any further. Well, I wanted to—and badly. But it seemed like waiting for Heather was the right thing to do.

Davin didn't seem embarrassed by my fake admission, which was another low bar that I nonetheless appreciated. "Rain check, then?" he asked. He sounded hopeful.

I forced myself to stand up, pushing off of him as I did so. It was like using a brick wall for support, he didn't even wobble. "Rain check sounds nice."

"Shit," Davin said. "You ...

... got uh, friendly fire." He pointed at the wet spot on my top.

I pretended to just notice. Slowly, I was easing myself back into this deception thing. "Fuck. Can I borrow a shirt?"

Davin said, "Yeah, of course." But I was already rummaging in his half open closet. I found what I was looking for almost immediately. If a guy puts something on a hanger, it's important to him.

"This okay?" I asked, showing him my find. It was long sleeved, a stretchy athletic top, but high quality, double layered. 'State Champs,' was embossed across the chest.

Devin, who'd taken this opportunity to pull his pants back on, raised a hand in await motion. Then he seemed to reconsider something. He put it back down. "You gotta bring that back," he said.

"Promise," I said.

It was predictably huge on me. The compression fabric, which found nothing robust enough of me to compress, hung limp. It could have been a poorly cut dress if the arms weren't also comically long. They flapped well past the tips of my fingers.

"Wait," said Davin, before I waltzed out in my oversized trophy. "Let me give you my number."

"I already have it. From that project we did," I clarified, before he could change his mind about my crazy stalker status.

-----

Walking back to campus on my own was a little spooky. But I made it, unmolested.

On the way Heather texted me that her sorority bullshit was looking like an all nighter. That was okay with me. I was eager to update Heather on my, um, progress. ...