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Jesse knows that him staring at you is weird as hell. But he never had a reason to hang around all these dumb ass college parties he’d deal at. Until he saw you. He’d circle your group of friends like a vulture, never joining your conversation, but never trying to make himself stick out.
At these sorts of functions that was smart.
It was obvious that he wasn’t really meant to be there since he had opted out of the khakis and polos uniform the frat bros wore and stuck to his typical baggy jeans and hoodie. He was only there to deal anyway, and best to stay out of the way and get paid. But this was the fourth time he’s seen you in the past two months, and he can’t help but be pulled into your gravitational field. Always staying far enough away to avoid whatever explosion would happen if he got too close.
God you haven’t made it easy to stay away though. Tonight he keeps meeting your eye, and every time your lips curve into that sweet smile, that smile aimed at him, not the fucking frat guy with his arm wrapped around you whose fucking name is probably fucking Brett. Him. With each little upward tug of your lips he gets pulled closer towards you, composure shrinking with every time your eyes meet.
The clothes you had on tonight were different from what you usually wore. But tonight you had changed from your typical jeans and a sweater to a mini skirt and tight t-shirt. Not that revealing, but when he saw it on you it made his mouth water.
You eventually managed to slink away from your conversation with fucking Brett and move towards the kitchen. Not sure what to do, Jesse pauses a moment before trailing behind you, still trying to resist your pull. He steps into the crowded kitchen and spots the back of your head through the sea of bodies, pristine hair shining in the dim light. You’re stood at the counter, refilling your cup with spiked punch, when he slides in beside you and clears his throat.
“Hey.”
Real fuckin’ smooth Jesse.
“Hey…” you shoot him one of your sweet smiles and he subconsciously inches closer to you. Like a planet desperately trying to soak in the light of the Sun.
You gently grab his empty solo cup from his hand and fill it with a punch for him. He smiles awkwardly and to fill the silence you ask, “I’ve noticed you at the past few parties but I’m not sure I've ever seen you on campus. What’s your major?” Jesse slightly blushes at the fact that you’ve actually noticed him.
“Oh, uh, not a student. I’m just, uh, just here to sell.” He clears his throat and scans your face for any sign of apprehension. It’s not like he’s ashamed of what he does, but he knows in this crowd it can get some mixed reactions. His eyes migrate from yours to the nearest exit. “Um, you could say I’m a, uh, business major I guess.”
You let out a sweet laugh and that fills him with pride.“You’ll probably be more successful then most of the business majors I go to school with.”
He relaxes at your banter, his worries and embarrassment fading away. The two of you continued to talk and he managed to learn your name, major, and hometown before one of your friends tracked you down and pulled you away from him. You turned around and mouthed sorry at him before you were tugged through the door to the living room. He once again trailed behind you like a puppy.
He found you in the middle of the dance floor being pushed together with fucking Brett from earlier who was more than eager to grab your hips and sway with you to the music. You were reluctant at first but eventually fell into the rhythm, still always keeping a few inches between you and your dance partner. He felt like a voyeur watching the two of you dance. The burning jealousy he felt at seeing his hands gripping your waist was almost too much to bear. But still, something about the way your hips rolled and swayed gave him a growing hard on in his jeans forced him to excuse himself to the upstairs bathroom to cool down.
He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned his head against the cool tile wall, trying to stifle the combined heat of his jealousy and his trapped cock that was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. Seeing you with another guy was making his blood boil even though he knows he has no right or claim to you. He knows that the extent of your relationship sums up to a few parties with lingering eye contact and one conversation that ended prematurely, but there is still something about you that's gotten under his skin and is becoming an itch that he knows he’ll eventually have to scratch.
His hand drifts down to palm at himself through his clothes and he lets out a soft exhale at the sudden pressure.
Subconsciously, his mind shifts to what it would feel like to get to dance so close to you. His hands grabbing your hips, tugging your ass securely to his cock. Feeling you grind against him in time with the music, being able to smell your perfume and feel the soft skin of your cheek pressed against his.
Suddenly his mind transported him to a different scene. You’re wearing the same clothes from tonight, but you’re laying on his bed with your back against the headboard and your legs spread while you boldly touch yourself for him. Your fingers slide in and out of your cunt and occasionally come up to toy with your clit. Your skirt is rolled up to your hips, fully displaying yourself as you play with your puffy folds. You let out soft moans as you touch yourself, but your brows were knit in frustration and you can’t seem to get yourself to the climax you are desperately craving. It was then that your eyes open and meet his where he stood at the foot of the bed. He once again found himself staring into your eyes; eyes that had smiled at him so many times across a crowded party were now begging him to get you off. He couldn’t have been happier to help.
Slowly he crawled onto the mattress and his lips met your outstretched ankle. He trailed soft, laboring kisses up your leg until he reached a particularly tender part of your inner thigh where he sucked a small bruise which caused you to moan and place your hand on his head. You gave his hair a light tug towards where you needed him, and he came eye-level with your cunt. He was watching, inches away, as your fingers pulsed in and out of your hole as you tried to find release. His hips ground down into the mattress, this was a new kind of torture. Watching you pleasure yourself while he was powerless to help you.
“Please” he whimpered.
With your hand still firmly tangled in his hair you gently stopped your ministrations and touched your slick fingers to his lips, where he immediately took them into his mouth. He let out a satisfied groan as he swirled his tongue around your digits sucking every drop into his eager throat. You gently removed your hand from his mouth and he turned his focus toward your heat.
He licked a small stripe from your opening up to your clit. Then he suddenly took your swollen bud into his mouth. He sucked and licked your clit at a torturously quick pace, causing you to writhe and buck your hips against his face, your slick dripping down his chin.
He detached his lips from you and slid up your body and met you in a sloppy kiss. It was all tongue, teeth, and puffy lips, but it lit a fire deep in his core. You could taste your slick on his lips and ran your tongue along his stubble trying to gather all of it.
Jesse snapped out of his daydream by a fist pounding on the bathroom door and some muffled variation of “Get the fuck out shithead”.
Probably best to speed this up.
He finally freed himself from his jeans and boxers and wrapped a tight hand around his throbbing cock. He let out a throaty groan, not caring if the people on the other side of the door could hear him.
Back in his fantasy, you’ve both stripped and are completely bare. You’re laying on your back and he’s positioned himself between your legs, dragging the red tip of his member through your folds, gathering your wetness.
“Are you sure?” He murmurs.
“God, please Jesse if you don’t fuck me-” He silences you by sliding in completely with one swift movement.
Your loud moan melts with his and he begins to slowly grind his hips. He brings a hand up to your breast and squeezes before moving slightly to play with your nipple. You hum contentedly, finally being filled by him.
He experiments with different speeds, trying to test what you like, until he finally settles on a brutal pace that leaves you moaning his name and clawing at his back. The pain quickly turns to pleasure, and the thought of the red lines that will be left behind causes him to twitch and empty a spurt of pre-cum deep inside you.
With every thrust your tits bounce and the sight almost makes him come undone, but he manages to stave off his orgasm. He wants to be good for you, make you feel good, even if he has to hold himself back.
He slows his thrusts ever so slightly and nuzzles his face against your breast. You clench around him as he draws back, trying to keep in deep inside of you.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. So perfect. So fucking good to me.” he murmurs against your chest.
You can’t formulate the words to reply so you moan his name. The vibrations thrum against his lips and he drifts his gaze towards your face. You stare down at him through heavy lidded eyes, trimmed with unspilled tears there because of the overwhelming pleasure he gives you. Your face is flushed and your red, kiss-bitten lips are open in a steady pant. He needs you to finish, needs to feel you clench around him and hear you scream his name.
He drifts a hand down to your clit and makes heavy slow circles in time with his thrusts. He knows that the pace must be tantalizingly slow for you but he can feel you becoming wetter beneath him and he can see the thin sheen of sweat pooling on your brow. You’re getting close.
“You like that baby?” He whispers against your neck.
“You fuck me so good Jesse. So. Fucking. Good.”
And then he’s coming.
All over the bathroom sink as he grips the granite countertop. Hot spurts of white shoot from his tip and he whispers your name like a prayer to himself over and over.
When he eventually comes down from his high, he rinses his remnants out of the sink. He tucks himself back into his boxers and winces at the touch to his still tender cock. Suddenly the realization of what he’s done crashes over him, and he practically runs out the bathroom door, ignoring the insults from people in line. He hurries down the stairs and rushes through the crowded living room. He steals one last glance at you before he goes out the door and slips into the night.