by Claire Adams
“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 in 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 shoulde
rs, 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.
So after a quick session of fooling around, Devon and I both got dressed, and I made myself gather up my things and give him a quick kiss before I ran out of the frat house, headed to my class. I had wished him luck, and Devon looked as calm as a person possibly could be, considering that he was taking a test that would determine whether or not he would be able to continue going to school. I knew I had made the right choice—after all, if I skipped class, all I would be doing would be sitting around or pacing the length of Devon’s room or the living room at the frat house. I couldn’t go with him, I couldn’t do anything else to help him. He was either going to pass or he wouldn’t.
As I sat in class, trying—and failing—to pay attention to the lecture going on, to take notes that made some kind of sense, I thought that even though I couldn’t actually do anything to help Devon, I was so invested in his success that I might be more nervous than he was for him to pass with a high score. I’m going to have to get the notes from someone else, I thought ruefully, glancing at the clock on the wall, out through the window, as if I would see some kind of sign or omen of what was going on with Devon. It was pointless for me to be in class; I would get points for being physically present, and the class was attendance-mandatory, so at least I wouldn’t have to come up with an excuse, but I was absolutely useless. I couldn’t keep my mind on what was going on around me, and I didn’t even participate in the discussion. You did everything you could. If he doesn’t pass, he doesn’t pass. But he has to pass. Whatever happens, you and Devon will find a way to deal with it. I had to be content with the knowledge that Devon and I had done everything we could together to make sure that he would be able to clear his name and get the score he needed; if he wasn’t able to get it, then neither of us could really be blamed. I checked my phone again and again, wishing I could get some kind of news of what Devon was doing, how he felt, what he thought his score would be.
Chapter Eight
I tried to put my worried about Devon’s test behind me as I went to my classes for the day, but it was impossible for me to not think about it every few minutes. I didn’t even know where on campus he’d be taking the test—or even if it was on campus. I didn’t know how long they were giving him. I had no idea when I would even be able to find out. Throughout my classes I was a distracted mess, and my only saving grace was the fact that the professors seemed to have decided to take it easy on me; I didn’t contribute anything to the conversations, yet I wasn’t the one they were calling on when the in-class discussions languished.
At the end of the day, as I was headed back towards the frat house, walking across campus, I finally spotted Devon; he was coming towards me, a smile on his face. “Dev!” I hurried to close the distance between us, throwing my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
“Hey, babe!” Devon kissed me, giving me a slight spin as he lifted me up off of the ground. “I was looking for you.” I giggled.
“I didn’t even know when you’d be done with the test, or I’d have come looking for you,” I told him. I squirmed free of his tight embrace and looked up into his face. “How did the test go? You said they would score it immediately, right? What did you get?” Devon laughed, and even though I knew that he couldn’t possibly be so lighthearted and happy if he hadn’t managed to pass highly enough to justify the scholarship he’d been given and get himself out of trouble, I had to hear it from him.
“I got a 32!” He kissed me on the lips once more. I clung to Devon, relief washing through me; he had done as well as I had—which definitely showed that he was much smarter than he needed to be to get the scholarship. And this time, there could be no question that it had been Devon who took the test, and that he had earned the score. Devon broke away from my lips, looking into my eyes with a loving, charming smile. “You’re the first person I told,” he said, his arms tightening around me. “Wanna come with me back to the frat so I can tell the rest of the guys finally?” I laughed.
“Seriously? You told me before you
told the team, even?” Devon shrugged, letting me slip out of his arms and taking my hand.
“The coach knows—but that’s because he was there. I figured you deserved to know before anyone else did.” I laughed again, delighted beyond anything I could imagine feeling that everything—so far—had turned out so well.
We went back to the frat house, and Devon gathered everyone who wasn’t in class in the living room. “Guys, I have an announcement to make,” he said, standing before ninety percent of the Phi Kappa household. I was seated off to the side, already beaming with my knowledge of the news he had for his friends.
“Oh god, did you knock Jenn up?” One of the guys shouted out; for an instant I was appalled, until I realized that it was a joke—everyone laughed.
“Not yet,” Devon said, grinning archly. “Plenty of time for that later.” There were more chuckles, and I forced myself to relax. “As most of you know, I had to re-take the ACT in order to lift the suspension the school put me under. That’s because like an idiot I cheated the first time around—so don’t ever let me hear about any of you making a deal with some high school kid to take his tests for him.” He looked out over the assembly of brothers sternly.
“This PSA brought to you by Devon Sealy,” one of the other guys commented. “Come on, man! Tell us the news!” Devon grinned, rolling his eyes at the impatience of his frat brothers.
“I got a 32! Way more than enough to pass it, and to get re-enrolled. Coach says I can play at the championship!” The room erupted in a loud, raucous cheer, and I found myself laughing, watching as the guys jumped around, pumping fists in the air as if the victory wasn’t only Devon’s—as if it was a victory for the entire frat. In a certain respect, I thought, it kind of was. Devon held up his hands for quiet, and gradually the cheering dissipated. “I just wanted to say that I couldn’t have done it without Jenn, and you guys had better all be insanely jealous of me with a girlfriend who can get me an almost-perfect score on a test along with being hot and a good cook. That’s all.”
