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“Hey, wait up!” You heard a deep, raspy voice call out from behind you as you exited your lecture hall. You stopped walking to turn around and look at who was calling out to you, though you already knew it was Frank. You could practically smell him from across the classroom.
The two of you weren’t friends or whatever, not in a way that you swore on it. But you both lived off campus and ran into each other frequently and talked about some surface-level stuff, your conversations rarely got truly interesting. You knew he was trying to be your friend. He wasn’t popular, just a bit reserved and often clumsy.
“Yeah?” You looked at the shorter man as he jogged up to you, frantically looking around the room to see if anyone was still sitting in one of the chairs. He came up close to you, looking suspiciously secretive.
“Okay, look,” He hummed, pulling a small baggie out of his pocket, it was obvious that its contents were pot. “I know we’re not great friends or whatever, but do you wanna hotbox my car with me?”
You bit back a grin as you hastily shoved the baggie back into his pocket.
“We could um… get to know each other better?”
“Keep that in your pocket, all right? Sure, I’ll smoke with you but I’m blaming you if we get caught.”
“No worries, dude.” Frank smiled at you, taking a big step toward the exit doors. “You ‘got classes right now?” He asked, looking at the floor as you followed him into the college’s hallways. Other people bumped into you as you walked.
“Not sure…” You mumbled. “Honestly, I don’t care either.”
“Heh,” He hiccupped out a soft laugh.
His orange fauxhawk was shiny with grease, and you could tell he put minimum effort into styling it. He smelled less than pleasant too, a cigarette odor usually followed him around.
You followed Frank out to the parking lot and into his old, beat-up silver car. You had to toss some trash from the passenger seat into the back, which Frank didn’t notice. His car already smelled like weed, so you doubted you were the first one he did this with. Neither of you buckled in as he drove off.
The ride was awkwardly silent for a couple of minutes until you spoke up.
“Where are we going, exactly?” You turned your head to Frank, who was focused on something for once. You hadn’t distracted him with your question and he kept his eyes on the road in front of him.
“Just my apartment.” He shrugged. “I’m just gonna park in the lot, only old people live there and never come out.”
“You’re sure they won’t call the cops?”
“I’ve done it before, nothin’ happened.”
“Hm, okay.” You skeptically said, staring out in front of you for about ten minutes, which was how long Frank took to reach the parking lot in front of his apartment complex. He pulled into his personal spot and parked haphazardly. He stuck his hand back into his pocket after a minute of silence, pulling out the same plastic baggie from earlier.
“This better be good weed,” You mumbled, staring at Frank as he leaned over you and popped open the glove compartment. He pulled out a grinder and some shabby-looking rolling papers.
“Oh, trust me, this shit’s great,” He chuckled, putting a few unground pieces of weed in his grinder. You watched him for the next five minutes or so, while sprinkled and rolled everything with skill and precision. It wasn’t a secret that Frank was a junkie, but you didn’t expect him to be so skilled at this, especially since he was usually not bothered by anything that asked dedication from him.
After these five minutes, he held the most perfect joint between his fingers, smiling as he showed it off to you. It was decently sized, to note. Shareable.
“If you would do the honor,” Frank dramatically reached out the joint to you. You took it with a lifted brow, slightly confused as you fished a lighter from your pocket and held the joint between your lips.
“You are such a strange guy,” You side-eyed the man as you spoke and sparked your lighter at the same time. You inhaled until a hot, prickly smoke hit your lungs. You struggled to inhale more, so you just held it in your lungs and exhaled as you passed Frank the joint.
“And?” He smiled, taking a puff himself. “Just wait until it kicks in, good fuckin’ stuff, man.”
You passed the joint back and forth for a while, maybe a bit over half an hour until the joint was down to its tip, and until Frank and you were stoned. You were giggling with him and singing along to the music he had put up on his car’s radio. Everything felt all fuzzy and your head was light, leaving a comfortable vibe in the stuffy car.
“You were right,” You slurred with a smile, letting your head rest against the chair as you tilted it backward. “Good fuckin’ stuff.”
“Told you so,” Frank replied blissfully, staring you down. He let out a few coughs after inhaling the smoke that had filled the car, giggling after.
“How long should we sit in this, actually?” You hummed, twirling your hair absently. Frank shrugged from beside you, putting his hand on the door handle.
“We can just go up to my apartment right now, don’t worry about it, dude.”
“Sure,” You nodded, opening up the car door and stepping outside. A cloud of smoke followed you, surrounding you and Frank with a strong weed smell. You weren’t as paranoid as you would be when you were sober, so it didn’t really occur to you that someone else would be able to smell this odor.
Frank’s apartment was on the first floor, so it wasn’t a very long walk. The halls looked pristine, almost hospital-ish due to the white tiling on the walls. You tripped over Frank’s shoes the second you walked in, he laughed about it while you pulled your own shoes off and dumped them on the pile next to the door.
Inside the small apartment that Frank rented, it was dark and messy… and smelly. Exactly how you had envisioned his living space. The walls were all painted a patchy grey and there was only the slightest sliver of daylight coming in from a crack in the curtains, the rest was all lit with string lights and other cozy lamps. If it weren’t for the smell of sweat and cigarettes, you figured living in this bat-cave-esque flat was pretty doable.
“Bedroom’s over here,” He hummed absently, disappearing into another small hallway that branched off of the living room. You followed him until you reached his bedroom, equally as messy, and twice as smelly as the rest of the house. Frank was casually setting up his bong with a grin, sitting on his bed as he held it in his hands while taking a hit.
“You’re smoking more weed?” You chuckled, sitting on the bed next to him and watching as he exhaled.
“Try it,” He encouraged, handing you the bong. He lit the small pile of weed and held it up, watching you as you clumsily took a drag and blew it out. He took it back after and took another drag himself, then put it down on the floor as he kept staring at you.
“What are you staring at me for?” You hummed, coughing ever so slightly as you met his gaze.
“You know, we’ve indirectly kissed like—multiple times.” He slurred, looking up at the ceiling aimlessly.
“Indirectly made out, then.” You giggled, still watching Frank. The room went silent for a minute as he thought about his answer, then came up with undoubtedly the sliest answer to your remark.
“You wanna directly make out, then?”
You raised an eyebrow, looking at him with confusion. He inched closer slowly, eventually leaning against you as he looked at your lips.
“I’m so gonna blame this on the pot.” You rolled your eyes and shut them smoothly, pressing your lips against Franks. He was quick to take the lead and sliver his tongue past your wet lips, causing you to retaliate and try to take the lead instead.
Frank wasn’t a bad kisser, perse, but he was sloppy—you guessed from him being high as shit. His lips weren’t too rough against yours, just overpoweringly dominant. You weren’t usually one to let yourself get forced into submission, but somehow he managed to break you down, even pushing you back and crawling on top of you. You didn’t care anymore, holding the base of his neck as his chest pressed against yours, lips becoming increasingly rough and sloppy.
You kept going until the two of you were out of breath, having to pull away for a sharp inhale.
“I’m so mad that you’re a good kisser.” You panted.
“Mad why?” Frank grinned, not bothering to fully catch his breath before leaning down and leaving little bites along your neck. It took him a minute to find your sweet spot, but you were pretty vocal about it when his teeth sunk into it.
You grunted and whined softly, hands tracing down the boy’s back.
“I usually top, you know? I’d have you on your back right now, ah, usually.” You couldn’t even manage a short sentence with him sucking hickeys into your skin.
“Yeah? How’s that workin’ out for you?” He chuckled, pulling away and inspecting the artwork of marks he had left on one side of your neck.
“Are you always like this?” You hummed, cut off by Frank’s lips smashing against yours again. He kissed you until your hands were grasping the back of his shirt, then pulled away again.
“I think? Usually, I’m pretty fuckin’ horny, but the weed makes it worse.” He smiled for a second, pecking the corner of your mouth before sitting up, inspecting your position and how convenient it would be for him to pull your pants down. You weren’t hard yet, he could tell that much. But then again—he was only sporting a semi himself, so you were pretty much even.
“Frank,” You called out, pulling him out of his thoughts. He shot you a questioning look.
“You’re staring.”
“Hm, I was just thinkin’.”
“Thinkin’ about what?”
“How to get you hard.”
You felt yourself heat up as soon as he said that, embarrassed.
“Just,” You gulped. “Just jerk me off for a bit, I think I’m more sensitive than I usually am right now.”
“Heh,” Frank hiccupped a laugh again as he hastily unbuckled your belt. Your cock was in his cold hand before you even computed what was going on. He was as good at giving hand jobs as he was kissing, apparently. You figured it was because of his lack of school, free time, and all…
You were right about being more sensitive. Every time he touched the head of your cock, it felt electric. He had you whimpering and whining under his touch once again, jerking you off while saying some perverted stuff about you to get you hard.
“You’re so fucking hot, you know that? I can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve given me a boner by just looking at me,” He grunted, his pace speeding up. This thought alone helped get you hard. After a minute or two he had you rock-hard and twitching, so he stopped and watched as your tip leaked.
“Turn over, I’m gonna get some lube,” Frank announced, skillfully palming himself as he got up and walked across the room.
You had to stop yourself from continuing his work. You throbbed eagerly as you rolled on your stomach, perking your ass up in the air to pull your pants down to your mid-thighs. You crawled up the bed a little further and grabbed one of the pillows laying on it, pulling it under your face and shoulders while you lay there.
It took Frank a minute to find the bottle of lube in his closet, but he announced his presence proudly as the bed dipped behind you, the sound of his belt buckle and zipper filling the room.
“Frank,”
“Hm?” He asked, watching you as you looked over your shoulder. He was busy covering his cock with lube, also barely exposed.
“Can you be um… Gentle?”
“First time? Wow, I honestly took you for a bottom.” He laughed, scooting closer and sitting on his heels while slowly placing a hand on your ass, prying you apart, and gliding his slick fingers over your hole. You hummed at the strange contact, pressing your face into the pillow beneath you.
“Tch, you’re adorable. Of course, I’ll be gentle.”
You had to stop yourself from grinding your hips into the mattress as Frank kept smearing the lube on you, his fingers gliding up and down teasingly until he stopped and pulled his hand away. You waited for him to do something, and you were pleasantly surprised when you felt him push a finger into you. It felt weird, but good. You appreciated how he took the time to ease you into it all instead of dipping in all at once.
“Hm,” You moaned softly as he pumped one finger in and out, eventually adding a second to stretch you out more. The mattress felt so comfy and soft, Frank’s hand was so nicely gentle on you, and everything was floaty. You could feel yourself twitch against the mattress, making you needier and less anxious about his cock.
A few more minutes of Frank’s fingers had left you whining and unsatisfied, not able to cum from just that. You were getting frustrated with him, begging him with your body and your voice for him to fill you up.
“Please, fuck, please, I need you,”
“Hm, you do?” Frank couldn’t wait to get a piece either, but he enjoyed the noises that he kept drawing from you.
“Yes, god, please,”
“Okay, okay,” He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you to moan again while he coated himself in an extra layer of lube and scooted closer. You watched over your shoulder once again as he rubbed his head over your hole with a grin, eventually pushing his tip in.
“You like that?” He cooed, pushing in further until his thighs met yours. You groaned happily as he grabbed your hips and squirmed around a little, finding a good angle to thrust before he did so. You wished you could see him better as he rolled his hips into you at a slow, steady pace.
“Ah,” You moaned and whined again as you felt every inch of him disappearing into you. You could feel him stretch you out, and it hurt, sure, but the pleasure overpowered the pain with ease. You wondered why you’d never let him fuck you before.
When Frank noticed you had gotten acclimated to his pace, and his size, he started to speed up and snap his hips more. He hit spots inside of you that you weren’t even aware you had, it made your eyes roll into the back of your head as you moaned out the dirtiest stuff you could think of, constantly praising how good you felt, and how good he made you feel, it was all so much.
“Look at you muttering like that, all desperate for my cum.” He nearly whispered, his voice raspier and deeper than it usually was. His grip on your hips tightened as he pulled out almost completely and snapped back in, ramming himself against your prostate and making you yell out his name at the intense sensation. He knew he said he’d be gentle, but you were enjoying it too much for him to slow down right now. He didn’t want the sweet noises to stop flowing from you.
Your skin slapped together and you grew increasingly closer to your orgasm, way too quickly than you should be, at least, you usually lasted longer. It was either the weed or Frank was too skilled for his own good, having you grasping the sheets and whining endlessly. You rocked your hips back lazily to meet his thrusts, helping him to get closer to his climax too.
“Hm, so cute.” He muttered, smacking your ass in between thrusts.
“I’m getting close,” You muttered in response.
“Already?” He laughed, tracing your curves as his pace sped up, edging you closer to your orgasm even quicker. His hands hooked themselves around your thighs to hold you now. “Don’t cum yet, I’m not done with you.”
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” You panted, arching your back into Frank. He kept hitting your prostate mercilessly as he pounded into you from behind. He was starting to overstimulate you, your cock twitching and leaking.
He dipped into you a few more times before picking up his pace yet again. You could feel him lose his rhythm every so often, and he was clearly twitching inside you, itching to shoot his load. Your ass bounced with every thrust and Frank looked at it, mesmerized. This was something he’d been dreaming of ever since he’d gotten talking to you, and now his cock was buried balls deep in you.
“Mhm, okay, ngh,” He grunted, losing his rhythm more often as his hips struggled to keep up. His cock was more sensitive, like yours. “Cum for me.”