Raging Hard(5)

By: B. B. Hamel



“This is better,” he grunted, pressing me up against a wall.

“Are you this forward all the time?”

“Only with girls like you,” he said in my ear. “Only with girls that get me fucking rock hard on the dance floor.”

“I didn’t do that.”

“Sure you did. With that perfect fucking body.”

And then he was kissing me again, his hands grabbing my ass and pressing me up against his hard dick. I moaned slightly into his mouth and began to grind up against him, needing it so badly.

“Easy girl,” he grunted in my ear.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said, panting. “I don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” I felt his hand move up my leg and under my dress. I shivered as he slipped under my panties, gently thumbing my clit. I gasped as pleasure rolled down my back. Fire and passion raged inside of me, drowning out any part of me that wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing. My body was telling me yes, and I was going to listen.

“I don’t kiss guys when I don’t even know their name.”

“Would that help?”

He kissed my neck as he continued to work my clit. I wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders and held on, standing on my tiptoes, pleasure and tension flooding and warring in my core.

“Yes. I don’t know. Fuck that feels good.”

“I’ll give you a name. But only if you come for me.”

“I don’t think I can,” I said. But as he continued working me, kissing my neck, I knew that was a lie.

“Please. You’re panting. You’re practically about to burst,” he growled, grinning.

He was right. Shit, I’d never been so close to coming from a guy just rubbing me like that before. Normally I needed way more time, but with him it was fast and brutal and totally overwhelming.

“Okay. Okay, you can make me come,” I gaped as he kissed me again.

I began to move my hips with his hand working my clit, over and over, slow and fast circles sending pleasure bolting through my brain.

“I’m close,” I gasped.

“Come on, babe. Come nice and hard for me.”

And it overtook me, pleasure rolling like waves through my brain as my body contracted. I came on his fingers, his masterful, incredible fingers, and moaned loudly, not caring if someone heard. His hot breath on my neck only made it more intense as he whispered dirty encouragement into my ear.

“That’s right, come on my fingers. I love making this soaked little pussy come. I love your slick clit and perfect tits.”

Slowly it passed and he moved back, grinning at me.

“Holy crap,” I said, breathing deeply.

He took my hand and pressed it against his big, bulging cock. I squeezed and began to stroke it softly, my eyes wide.

“My turn now,” he grunted. “Think you can make me come?”

“I think so,” I said softly.

“I want to see you suck this cock. I want to see you swallow all my hot cum.”

I gasped and bit my lip, shocked. “First, what’s your name?”

“Nathan. You can call me Nate.”

I blinked and cocked my head. There was something about that name, something really familiar . . .

But before I could think of it, my phone began to buzz.

“Shit,” I said.

“Go ahead.” He nodded at my pocket.

I pulled out my old, beat-up phone and read the text. It was from Lydie.

shiitttttt I’m maddd dunk girl

And two more in quick succession:

siickkk as fuuuckkkk

omg bitch pukingggggg

I wrote back, Where are you? Are you okay?

bathroom bitch just puked need to rally

I cursed under my breath, putting my phone away.

“What’s the matter, babe?” Nate asked.

“My friend. She’s wasted right now and needs some help.”

He grunted, nodding. “Well then, let’s go find her.”

I frowned down at his huge dick, still hard as hell. “I’m sorry.”

He grabbed me by the hair, a soft fist full, and pulled me close. I gasped as surprise and excitement filled me.

“You’ll pay me back.”

“When?”

“Later.” He grinned and let me go. “Come on.”

“She’s in the girl’s bathroom, I think.”

I followed him back inside, back through the hallways, and out toward the bathrooms. We skipped the line, ignoring the loud complaints of other girls. He silenced them with a look and followed me inside.

“What the fuck?” some girl putting lipstick on said as soon as she saw Nate.

“Helping a friend,” he grunted.

“Whatever, perv.”

“Lydie?” I called out.

“Claire? Bitch, is that you?”

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