Hand-in-hand Janice and David walked. Well, it was more like Janice walked, David tried to keep up. He couldn't help it. Not only was he inexperienced in walking in high-heeled shoes, but she was moving so quickly that he would have had a problem keeping up even in sneakers!
"My place isn't far," she'd said, insisting that they walk. David couldn't find the words to protest. She was so aggressive that he felt overwhelmed.
And, if he was perfectly honest, turned on.
David had always had a crush on Janice Robinson. Who doesn't secretly lust after their hot teacher. David, being a normal, hetero male, was no exception to the rule. In some ways he couldn't believe his luck. In some ways, he pondered as he felt his panties ride up his butt crack, he wondered where his luck had gone wrong.
The way was familiar. As they turned the corner, leading them to David's own street, he wondered if they were neighbours and he didn't know it. Then, as she pulled him up the walk to his own house, he wondered if she had wanted to go to his place rather than hers... although had he told her where he lived?
She dug keys out of her blue jeans and held the door open for him. He entered, getting his behind fondled as he passed her in the doorway.
"Isn't this..." he meekly began.
"I told you it wasn't far," Janice cut him off, squeezing past him and locking the door behind them.
Jon was briefly staring at his reflection in his own front-hallway mirror, wondering briefly if touching up his make-up would make his experience slightly less embarrassing, when Janice again grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her.
Up the stairs, down the hall, through the door. Into his own bedroom.
She let go of David's hand. She turned to him and kissed him aggressively, kicking the bedroom door shut without looking. Her hands explored his body, causing his skirt to ride up. Quickly she manoeuvred him toward the bed and dropped him down. He squeaked as he bounced. She grinned hungrily, pulling her Metallica t-shirt off and leaping on him bare-chested.
"Should I get undressed?" David asked, almost in a whisper.
"No way, baby," Janice answered, "You look fucking hot in that."
David felt a rush of pride about his appearance at her compliment, almost enough to overcome his shame for crossdressing. Almost enough.
She kissed him. She fondled him. She rolled him around. Logically he knew that he could overpower her if he wanted, but somehow he couldn't make himself do it. He let her touch him. He let her use him. When she held his head and made him eat he out, he went along with it.
Then, when she was ready, she shoved him back onto the bed, flipped his skirt up, grabbed his penis in her hands and shoved it into her sloppy vagina.
His experience with women was extremely limited, but he was pretty sure what he experienced wasn't normal. She rode him, but not in a sexy way, she rode him like a jackhammer. And it only lasted about a minute-and-a-half.
"UGH!" she grunted, then shivered, then shook, then dropped off of him, laying to one side, leaving him erect, exposed, and unfulfilled.
Feeling very vulnerable, he rolled over onto his side to cuddle with her, maybe rekindle the experience, but she rolled away from him, and was quickly snoring, fast asleep.
David felt dirty, used. In a way he blamed himself for dressing like such a slut. Hadn't his father always warned him about girls using boys who dressed like him? Now here he was, in Janice's house, used up like a whore. He wanted to curl up and cry. He want to crawl under a rock and hide.
But he wouldn't. Quietly, he climbed out of the bed and crossed to the mirror (hadn't he had one just like it at one point?). He looked at his reflection, make-up messy, clothes dishevelled. It didn't matter. What mattered is that he needed to start loving himself, not treating himself like crap. He needed to make a change. Picking up the small hand-bag he'd dropped on the floor, he made his way out of the room, down the hall, down the stairs and out the door. He didn't care how he looked. He was going home, and he was going to be better.
