been thinking about this for days because i feel like you know art in college, assume that since hes a student athlete and very serious about his sport that he doesn't really partake in drugs and/or alcohol. but you're surprised to learn that he smokes pretty frequently.
leaving a party with him because he's over it and doesn't want to be around a bunch of drunk people. he takes you back to his dorm and you're surprised to see him open up his window and sit on the shitty radiator by the window and offer you a hit of his joint.
you're not used to this, you haven't smoked very often--but you want to stay with him. want to seem cool. even though art would always think you're cool.
so you take a drag. art realizes you aren't used to smoking when you start to cough up a lung. he thinks it's cute. rubs your back as he gives you his water bottle to sip from.
"you didn't have to smoke. i just wanted to offer." he wipes a tear from your cheek.
the reality is that the enormity of your crush on art would lead you to the ends of the earth. but you fear he doesn't feel the same. you're nothing like him--you don't play tennis, you dont think youre extraordinary like those girls on the team with him. but art thinks youre perfect. and twenty minutes later, the effects of the weed start to kick in. you're giggly and touchy and art's eyes look bloodshot but his smile is so easygoing and god he smells so good.
art asks why you don't hang out that much.
"i don't know." you say lowly. "i'd hang out with you everyday if it were up to me."
art leans in closer, wipes the potato chip crumbs from his hands. he's still chewing which makes you giggle. but he agrees with you. "me too. seems like it is up to us. what's stopping us?"
"i dunno. fear of rejection?" you say.
"only the stupidest man in the world would reject you." he rests on his palms, leaning forward. you stand up and sit on his bed, motioning for him to come over. he does, immediately.
"can you help me?" you ask. it's stupid but you're so bad at making the first move. "my mouth is dry."
art smiles, running his thumb over your bottom lip. "is it?" he leans in and kisses you. first it's slow and loving and meaningful. and it doesn't become less meaningful, of course, but he starts to move faster, cradling your head in his hand and leaning into you, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking yours. moaning as his spit intermingles with yours. he tastes like tobacco and marijuana, like peppermint gum and art donaldson.
he lays you down on the bed, rutting his clothed cock into your cunt, only covered by your thin panties which are exposed from your skirt riding up.
"oh my god, you're fucking perfect." he groans. he is embarrassed by how much he gets off on just grinding against your little pussy, watching how your mouth falls open when the friction stimulates your swollen clit.
"i wanna fuck you." he whispers against your mouth. you've barely heard art cuss. this sounds vulgar coming from him.
he pulls your legs over his shoulders. the stretch hurts but it feels so good to know he'll be fucking into you soon enough. his cock is hard and leaking and there's a wet spot on his boxers. he shushes you as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, his thumb rubbing your clit.
"i think my roommate's gonna be back soon."
"then you're gonna have to fuck me hard, aren't you?"
art's cock rests heavy against his stomach. "gonna be a slut for me? lay on your stomach then. i'll fuck you hard."
you obey him and look back over your shoulder as he props your hips up. covers your mouth and pushes in inch by inch by inch.
"pussy's so fucking tight." he gasps as he bottoms out. he leans in and moans against your lips to muffle your whines as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass. "my mouth is dry now too--get it wet for me?"
you kiss him, spit in his mouth, claw at the hair at the nape of his neck, wet with sweat.
"fuck yourself back on my dick." he nods. it's a whole different side of the sweet boy who shares homework answers for you and saves you half of his clementines for study breaks.
you arch your back and move your ass in tandem with his thrusts, but its not fast enough for him. his fingers dig into the fat of your ass as he slams into you. your legs shake for him. all you can muster is please, please, please--but you don't even know what you're asking for.
art hears his roommate coming down the hall. the thrill of being caught makes his cock twitch, and mixed with your tight little cunt choking his dick--he cums. you muffle your moans into his pillowcase; it's covered in your drool and faint lip gloss marks.
you and art situate yourself before his roommate opens the door.
"did you guys smoke in here?" he asks.
art is shirtless, sitting on the edge of the bed. you're under the covers, pretending to sleep. art's chest is covered in cherry lip gloss, his hair matted with sweat.
"yeah, sorry man, we tried to aim out the window."
