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Chad’s Met His Match

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By popular demand. This follows directly off the “Chad Takes a Gymnast” story; go ahead and read that first if you want, but you shouldn’t need to. I’ve got to say, this story went in an unexpected direction.

Enjoy!

* * *

The walk from my fraternity house over to Quannack Hall seemed longer than usual. It was balls-hot that evening, even with the sun long gone; the humidity made me want to do nothing more strenuous than sitting in a beach chair with my feet in a kiddie-pool, a beer in one hand and some bitch’s tit in the other.

But it wasn’t the heat that was making me dread my arrival there. No, I was worried about how I’d be received. I’d been seeing Julia, a chick over in Quannack, for like eight months now, and she’d started introducing me around as her “boyfriend.” That was fine, but it explained why she’d been so pissed when she’d walked into my room last night and found me dicking Britney, that Chinese girl who liked to hang around at our house.

It’s not like Julia and I were exclusive: for starters, she’d been the lunchmeat in quite a few sandwiches I’d made with my buddy Joel. I assumed she’d fucked around a little on her own, too, like when she went home on vacations or when she was out in the field with her ROTC crew; the bitch was insatiable. Hell, we’d met during a party at some other fraternity, long after midnight, when the lightweights had gone home and I’d heard that some ginger-headed freak was giving out free blowjobs in the kitchen. So I’d gone back to see if I could get sucked, wondering just how desperate the bitch would have to be to do something like that. Probably some fat, acne-riddled chick from one of the sororities, invited out of pity.

You can imagine my surprise, then: my future girlfriend was an absolute knockout, a tall athletic young slut with freckles and a sharp, pointy nose. Fucking cutie. Unbelievable ass. She’d been wearing tight jeans soaked by the beer she was kneeling in, topped off by a tight white tanktop that showed deep cleavage. Some other chick, a friend of hers named Justine, was standing loyally behind her, holding that gorgeous red hair back and looking as though she was ready to take over when the slut’s mouth got tired.

Not that that seemed to be necessary. The ginger was proud and confident as she knelt, her back totally straight and her hands resting lightly on the jeans of some guy from the basketball team as she had him deep. I think I fell in lust right then, seeing her dark eyes half-closed, even before I got in line and stepped up to shove it past her lips.

She’d said nothing to me that night beyond asking my name, smiling as she took me in and proceeding to give a very competent and efficient bit of brain. Justine looked curiously down as her friend choked on my rod.

“Dude,” she observed, sounding cold-sober, “your dick is all bent.”

“I know,” I grated, feeling the ginger’s hand on my sack. “Shut up.” Bitch had nearly spoiled the whole thing; I’d been relieved when the ginger hadn’t commented on my erection’s rightward twist. Justine had been incorrect; I wasn’t “bent,” more like “curved.” It certainly didn’t seem to matter to most of the chicks I’d banged, as Justine herself found out, firsthand, a couple nights later.

But ever since then, I’d been pretty faithful to Julia. Certainly I’d never cum into any other snatches, as far as I knew: I thought of myself as a one-woman man. If I was dating a chick, my cum was all hers. Any other slit got a rubber or, if one wasn’t available, a quick withdrawal and a slimy mess on the stomach, or the ass, or the face, or in the mouth, or wherever.

That was my own personal rule, and with Julia I’d only broken it once. I’d gotten balls-deep into her roommate, a gymnast named Marie, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from shooting into her tight, able pussy. But Marie didn’t count: Jules herself had put me up to that one, and had been standing over by the sink taking care of herself while Rie and I did it.

That had been a week ago. Marie had been pretty awkward about it since then, except when I’d guilted her into letting me go down on her a couple nights later, as we waited for Jules to get home from a late class. Oh, she’d been into that alright; her twisty, toned little body had just about broken my neck when she writhed off my tongue. But she wanted absolutely nothing to do with my dick; I think it was a little too big for her.

And then, disaster. I hadn’t meant to fuck Britney; hell, I’d been avoiding her steadily for about ten days, since the two of us had hooked up after the annual Toga Bash. I’d screwed her a few times with Julia passed out on my floor nearby, and even though I hadn’t unloaded in her snatch I still felt kind of guilty. She and Julia were friends, after all; they were both in the early childhood education program, and took a lot of classes together. I had no idea where Britney lived, but it definitely wasn’t on the second floor at the Quan with Jules, çapa escort Rie, and the other future preschool babysitters.

How was I supposed to know that Jules would get out of class early? Or that Joel would let her in? Or, hell, that Britney would even be there that night? We’d all been sitting around watching the big screen, the boys all giving equal time to that Chinese whore and some other girl called Tammy; when I’d ended up with Britney in my lap, and she’d reached right down and effortlessly given me a boner, well, what the fuck was I supposed to do? She’d already had me like three times; it’s not like I could make up some bullshit excuse.

Julia had watched for a few seconds as I exuberantly plundered Britney from behind, my brain trying to make sense of why my girlfriend would be standing in my doorway, before she’d smirked and walked out, dragging Joel behind her. I had no doubt she was going to give him a revenge fuck, and I couldn’t blame her.

Britney hadn’t cared; she’d been in the middle of an orgasm, her sleek body quivering, those skinny hips just begging for my cum. I’d let it go on for a few more minutes before I’d spurted my load across her smooth ass, massaging it into her rectum before trying to think of what I should do about Julia.

I felt bad. I mean, I assumed Jules knew I’d been banging other bitches, but we’d never really discussed it and she’d never seen me do it. So this evening, as I walked toward the front door of the Quan, I actually had a dozen flowers hidden behind my back. They were carnations (I’m a cheap bastard), but she wouldn’t care.

The early childhood ed floor was the second one, and usually I just took the stairs. But this time the elevator was already there, open in the lobby, so I headed right in and punched the button before anyone else could hitch a ride. I stared impassively as some freshman, laden with books, tried hard to get to the ‘vator before the doors closed; I could have hit the DOOR OPEN button, but why should I? The doors clumped shut just as the freshman got there, the books spilling out of his hands as he stopped short. “You motherfu-” I heard, smiling as the ‘vator pushed me smoothly upward.

I was not normally the kind of guy to do anything as clichéd as bringing flowers to a wounded girlfriend. In fact, I’d always been more the kind of guy whose approach to wounded girlfriends had been to simply dump them. But I was growing up, and trying to become a better person; also, I really liked Julia. She was a fun, smart girl with red hair and a firm round ass, both of which were worth something. And she fucked like a nuclear explosion. So I wanted to keep her around.

As soon as the elevator doors opened on the second floor, though, I knew I’d have an uphill struggle. I knew it before I even fully processed the scene in front of me. I knew it from the vibes, hanging ugly in the air of the floor lobby like a bad fart. Specifically, I knew it because every single person who lived on that floor, including the two men, was gathered there listening to an RA. And as the door opened, every eye in the room swiveled right at me. And once enough of those eyes recognized me, well, that’s when the bad vibes started.

I had the flowers behind my back, but a dozen carnations would only be invisible behind a man significantly fatter than me. So there I was, framed by the elevator door with petals and baby’s breath fanned out behind me. I sought out Julia and Marie, soon finding them sitting miserably on the floor at the front; Julia just glared at me in fury, while Rie looked down at the carpet. The RA, stopped in mid-sentence, pursed her lips at me in extreme disapproval.

“We’re having a floor meeting,” she said flatly. There was nothing but hostility in those eyes, although even pissed off she was a very attractive chick. But this was college, and there were a million attractive chicks; this room, right now, was a sea of hot pussy, most of them in some form of pajamas. But now was not the time to think that way about the RA. “You’re not welcome.”

“Oh, sorry.” I’d been out of the dorms for a year and a half, but RAs still intimidated me. I licked my lips and put on a vague smile. “I’ll just, uhh, wait, um…” I shuffled off just as the doors closed behind me, drifting to my left toward Julia’s room. The residents stared in silent accusation as I moved. Jesus Christ! What was happening here? It was like a walk of shame out of some ugly chick’s room, but I had no idea why it was happening now.

I recognized a few faces, here and there, from Jules’ school functions, or from the cafeteria, or just from seeing them in the Quan or around campus. I could pick out five girls in the crowd whom I’d seen naked. As I reached the edge of the crowd, though, one set of sophomore eyes made me pause.

Ashley.

Through various circumstances, the enchanting Ashley had witnessed me in all three stages of sexual adventure: preparation, cihangir escort action, and epilogue. In no particular order, she’d walked in on me in my underwear, about to strip as I waited for Jules to get out of the shower. She’d looked me over in clear admiration, flirted a little as she stood in the hallway in a fluffy pink bathrobe, and then moved on after giving me her doorcode. Another time, she’d watched with a mischievous smile as Julia rode me with her usual enthusiasm; I’d reciprocated with the lazy, proud grin of a man with his dick wedged into a hot, happy pussy. Finally, she’d caught me in the communal bathroom, buck naked, wiping my dick off at the sink as I’d recovered from Marie’s snatch. She’d eyed me that time too, and boldly, making small talk as she headed for the toilet.

Each time, she’d grinned broadly as those violet eyes danced. They danced now too, enjoying my humiliation as I slunk past, her smile wicked with schadenfreude. Christ, I realized like an icicle going into my stomach; they were talking about me! The meeting was about me!

And Julia, now looking firmly away from me as I shot her another glance. And, probably, Marie, looking as if she wanted to melt into the carpet.

I looked, at last, at the RA, her lip curled in absolute disgust. I could read her eyes: to her, I represented everything horrible and vile about dorm life. I was an outsider; worse, I was a stereotype. I was Frat Guy, showing up on her turf with booze and pot and a condomless dick, poisoning the harmony of a bunch of innocent future teachers.

Even Kristina, in the back, one of the ones I’d seen naked. Nothing innocent about that one, for sure; she’d been begging me to fuck her in the ass at a party last year, and of course I’d obliged. Now she looked severely at me, fully under the spell of her RA, seething against me and everything I represented.

I backed quickly out of the lobby, still stupidly trying to hide the carnations, and I scrambled toward Julia’s room, punching in the doorcode and slamming the door behind me with unseemly haste.

Fuck, but that was embarrassing. I’m not generally a person who gets bothered by other peoples’ judgments, but it had been flat-out mortifying to feel the concentrated loathing of an entire floor full of hot chicks. And a couple of dudes, but they were probably gay anyway. I stumbled to Julia’s bed and sat, staring up at Rie’s loft where I’d numbly laid the flowers. I at once got up and put them on Jules’ bed instead: that was the last thing I needed, for my girlfriend to come in and see me leaving flowers on her roommate’s pillow.

Not that it mattered. Julia was going to skewer me.

I didn’t have long to wait. The door flew open not three minutes later. “I swear,” Jules grated in a slow rage, “that was the most humiliating fucking thing I’ve ever experienced. Ever.” She didn’t even look at me as she strode to the drawer where she hid her tequila stash. Marie came shuffling in behind, looked at me, and burst into tears as she sat heavily on her desk chair.

I was probably grinning stupidly; I held up the flowers like a robot. “Bad day?” I said, falsely exuberant; it was precisely the wrong thing to do, for Julia rounded on me as if I’d just told her I was thinking of poisoning her water.

“You,” she announced, pointing at me with the bottle of brown-gold alcohol, “have gotten me and Rie into a world of shit.” Miserable in her chair, Marie sobbed again. “Do you know what it’s like to be told you’re in danger of getting kicked out of fucking Quannack Hall?”

“Huh?” I played dumb, even though I was already pretty sure it was all starting to make sense.

Jules took a long swig, wiping her mouth savagely with the back of her wrist. “There was a noise complaint last weekend,” she spat. “And then some other complaint, about you being naked in the fucking bathroom.”

“Last weekend? Me naked in the bathroom?” I didn’t want to think that Ashley had complained; she didn’t seem like the type.

“No; some woman saw you after a shower. Like, a month ago.” Jules shook her head irritably. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not supposed to be taking showers here if you don’t live here. You’re getting us in trouble here, Chad. Fucking Nicole said she’ll get us kicked out if she sees you here again after hours.”

“Who’s Nicole?”

“The goddamn RA, you idiot.” She drank steadily. “Walking around here with your dick hanging out, what did you think was going to happen?”

“Hey!” I dropped the flowers on her pillow and held my hands defensively up. “I’m not the only one who made noise in here last weekend, you know. It takes two to tango,” I added, with a quick glance at Rie. Hell, for all I knew, they’d been complaining about her screaming her little muppet head off when I ate her out a couple nights after our little three-way. She had her head on the desk now, her tight body quivering with her tears. Well. There’d esenyurt escort be no more trips between those legs, clearly. Tongue and cock were both done with Marie Kohler. She’d never want to see me again.

Which was a problem, for I did not intend to stop fucking Julia. She was sucking down more of the tequila, a fierce glint in her eye. She wasn’t normally this emotional; I realized slowly that she was on her period this weekend. Shitty timing for all this, I thought, thinking of Britney.

So was Julia. “And now what? Flowers? Fucking flowers? What’s that shit about, Britney fucking Liu?” she sneered. “You’d have done better to bring them to her instead; you’re certainly not getting any ass out of me anytime soon. Besides,” she sniped, “no woman with any self-respect puts out for carnations.” Yup. On her period, clearly. “I think she’s probably not going to be too useful there, either,” she went on, jerking her head at Marie.

I blinked. “So, wait. Are we breaking up here?” I was confused; I hadn’t thought things were this bad. I mean, she’d let me fuck Marie; she’d even set the whole thing up! She had to know I was fucking other girls. Why would she break up with me over giving Britney a little doggy love?

“Are we breaking up here?” she mocked, her voice high-pitched and bitter. “Were we ever dating, Chad? Or were you just fucking me in between my various classmates?” She glared evenly at me, her eyes turning red. Anger, booze, crying; whatever was coming, I suddenly couldn’t deal with it.

“Jules,” I said, standing slowly, “I’m not here to fight with you. I’m sorry if I’ve made anybody upset,” I said, may voice low. I edged toward the door. “I’ll call you later?” When you’re not on your period, I didn’t say. She’d never been able to control herself while on the rag.

Julia said nothing, just looked at me like a bull looks at a matador. The bottle still dangled from her hand. Those eyes tracked me like a missile battery. “Yeah. I’ll call you later,” I said quickly, going for the doorknob. Shit, if looks could kill… I retreated gratefully into the hall, thinking of nothing but the stairs. I looked both ways, frantic to avoid further embarrassment from any of the citizens of the floor, then walked quickly down the hall.

* * *

Fuck. What was I going to do now? I was definitely not in love with Julia Cooney, I reflected dully, but I liked her a great deal, and I actually wanted to be loyal to her. That hadn’t often happened to me before. Suddenly, I realized I might never see her again. This was all very new to me. I’d had plenty of chicks, and therefore plenty of fights, and not a single one of them had felt like this.

I took a different route to the stairs in order to avoid the floor lobby, where I figured Nicole would still be hanging out with some of the residents. The ones who wanted to kill me. Instead, I found myself heading past Room 224. Then 226. 228.

There was one more door at the end of the hallway next to the stairs, and I knew who lived in 230. Had the doorcode, even. And there I stood, stuck between Ashley’s door and the stairs, indecisive in the green glow of the EXIT sign; on a sudden impulse, I knocked on 230.

Why? What was I expecting? Did I want to talk to someone? Or did I want an explanation for that wicked little smile I’d gotten as I ran from the elevator? Or did I want her to reassure me she hadn’t told Nicole about our bathroom encounter? Or, hell, told Julia about that?

Whatever. I’d knocked; I’d have to deal with what came next. “If it’s Ana you’re looking for, she’s still at the meeting!” trilled a cheery voice, a voice I’d heard before.

I felt foolish standing in the hall. “Uh, no,” I said, trying to keep it down. No way would I ever feel comfortable again, not on this floor. “I’m looking for Ashley.”

“Huh. Well, you’ll have to wait; I’m doing my toenails!” I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling dreadfully exposed. The hallway was dank and threatening; I could hear footsteps shuffling around in the lobby down at the other end, angry voices debating about me. I could hear Nicole trying to soothe somebody.

I took a deep breath, reached out, and with a desperate thumb jammed in the doorcode Ashley had given me last week.

36652.

The lock clicked instantly, the knob spun in my sweaty hand, and I burst through the door as though the hounds of Satan were in pursuit. I caught a whirling glimpse of Christmas lights twinkling whimsically up along the ceiling as I slammed the door behind me and stood there blinking. I leaned back against the door, burying my body within the fluffy pink bathrobe hanging there.

At the chair next to one of the built-in desks sat Ashley. She hadn’t been lying; the foot at the end of one long, bare leg was balanced carefully on the other chair, chunks of cotton between its toes. The other foot was drawn in close to the girl’s butt, the heel perched on the seat with the toes spread widely. Nice feet, long and tapered.

The legs were excellent, nicely shaped and well-shaven, of an dusky color that told me she was either over-tanned or Mediterranean. She was in a pair of mens’ boxers, soft cotton and very short; the thigh behind the foot she was working on was firm and solid.

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