Chapter 37: A Guest At Girls’ Night

I woke early on Saturday morning with what I believe could be described as a raging erection. Cheryl was still asleep, on her back, in the sexy new green lace robe that she had purchased the day before. I contemplated waking her by pulling her thong to one side, and fingering her slit until she was damp enough for me to climb on and penetrate her, but I decided that she was sleeping so peacefully that I should just let her be.

I know myself well enough to be aware that if I stayed in bed beside her, I wasn’t going to just let her be. So, as quietly as I could, I rolled out of bed. She didn’t waken. I padded to the bathroom and waited for my hard-on to subside so that I could pee. That took some time, but eventually it happened. Then I pulled the t-shirt and jeans I’d been wearing the day before on overtop of the boxer shorts I had slept in, and went out to the little sitting area outside Cheryl’s bedroom. My briefcase was there, with my laptop and the notes I’d made at the library. I got it all out, sat down on the couch, and started work.

I’d been writing for about an hour when Cheryl appeared. I was pleased to see that she was still wearing nothing but the gown and thong from the night before.

“Good morning, Lover. Have you been up long?”

“About an hour or so, I guess.”

“You could have wakened me, you know.”

“I know. But you looked so peaceful. I just couldn’t do it.”

She sat down beside me, and gave me a deep kiss. That morning breath you hear about? It’s a thing. But it’s not a thing I worry about.

“So I feel kind of bad about last night. I was supposed to be giving you a fun night. I dressed up for you and everything. And then you wanted to go down on me, and ... wow. You were so good. But I can’t believe I fell asleep on you before I got you off. That wasn’t the plan.”

“Maybe not. But I’m fine. You look after my needs pretty well, you know. A night where I focus on you is not a prob.”

“I’d offer to make it up to you now, but you look like you’re on a roll. Have you had coffee yet?”

I shook my head.

“Nope. I just got up and started writing.”

“Oh, John! I’m so sorry. I’m not doing a very good job of looking after you! Let me pull on a real robe and I’ll go bring you coffee.”

She got up and ducked back into the bedroom and reappeared a few minutes later, wrapped up in a housecoat. Moments later she was back upstairs, holding a steaming mug of coffee. I used to think that there was nothing in the world that tastes as good as that first sip of coffee in the morning. Now that I’ve had lots of chances to taste Cheryl’s pussy, I’d have to qualify that statement. But coffee is still a close second.

Now, writing is a funny thing. If I don’t know what I’m trying to say, there’s no point in me sitting, staring at the screen, and pretending I’m working. But if I do know what I’m going to say, the words flow pretty easily. And that Saturday, I was in the zone. I knew what I wanted to write, and the words appeared quickly. Cheryl more or less left me to it, knowing that I needed the space to concentrate. She brought me some toast for breakfast, then got dressed and told me she was going out grocery shopping with her mom. She appeared beside me with a sandwich at lunchtime. Every now and then she checked on me, to see if I needed anything.

By the middle of the afternoon, I had a paper. It needed editing and proofreading, but I could do that tomorrow. That would be easier to do once we got back to school, in any case, because I find proofreading goes much better on paper than it does on screen. I saved the file, one last time, closed my laptop, stood up, stretched, and went downstairs in search of my girlfriend. I found her sitting in the livingroom with her mother, reading for one of her classes.

“Need a break?” she asked, hopefully, when she saw me come into the room.

“I guess you could say that. I’m done.”

“Really? That’s fantastic!”

“You’ve been working hard on that paper all day, according to Cheryl,” Molly noted. “It must feel good to have it finished!”

“It does. I need to do some editing and stuff, but I can do that tomorrow.”

“So what do you want to do now?” Cheryl wondered. “Do you need some food?”

“No, I’m good food-wise. But I could use a nap, if that’s not too boring.”

Cheryl giggled.

“Naps are never boring. C’mon.”

We went back upstairs, and she quickly stripped down to her panties. Then she saw me looking at her.

“What? You weren’t going to nap in your clothes, were you?”

I stripped down to the boxers I had slept in, that I was still wearing under my jeans.

“That’s better,” she grinned. Then she pushed me down onto the bed on my back, and knelt beside me, running her hand over my cock and balls through the new shorts. “These feel as nice as I thought they would,” she commented, as she reached to undo the buttons at the fly.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she wondered. “I’m getting ready to suck my man’s cock.”

“You don’t have to do that. Besides, I didn’t shower this morning.”

“I know I don’t have to. But I want to. You’ll rest better if I relax you first. And I owe you for that tongue action you gave me last night. And I don’t mind a bit of sweat on your balls. It’s not like you’ve been assfucking some skank or something!”

I gave up arguing. It’s hard to talk when a gorgeous redhead has your cock in her mouth. And she was right. It was relaxing. And it didn’t take her long. She knew what she was doing, and she knew how to make me come quickly, and that seemed to be her goal. And she achieved it. In what seemed like no time, I grabbed two fistfuls of red hair and held her mouth on my cock as I pumped my load down her throat.

When the spasms passed, and I released my deathgrip on her head, she pulled off, and licked the last few drops of come off the tip of my cock. Then she gently put me back inside my shorts and came up to snuggle beside me.

“Now, sleep, Lover. You’ve worked hard today. You’ve earned some rest.”

I woke, a little over an hour later, to find Cheryl with her head propped up on her arm, looking at me. Something smelled heavenly, and it wasn’t just my girlfriend.

“I was just about to wake you up. Mom’s making spaghetti for dinner, and we’re eating a bit earlier than usual, so that you and I will have time to get cleaned up afterwards.” She gave me a kiss on the forehead. “Now get yourself waked up and pull on some clothes. I’m going to go and brush my teeth so that I can enjoy tasting my grandma’s tomato sauce, instead of tasting your come.”

Dinner was lovely. Cheryl had made her family’s spaghetti and meatballs for me twice in the time that we’d been dating. It had been the first meal she cooked for me - the Sunday night of our first weekend together - and I’d enjoyed it so much that I’d ‘ordered’ her to make it for me again during our sex slave weekend. It surprised me a bit that a family with Irish genes as strong as Cheryl’s had a family spaghetti recipe, but Molly told me over dinner that it was Dave’s mother’s recipe - and she was an Italian Canadian who broke with tradition and the wishes of her family to marry a mangiacake. That made sense. No wonder the sauce was better than my mom’s!

After supper Cheryl and I went up to the third floor, where she showered while I shaved, and then I hopped under the steaming spray when she stepped out to dry off. By the time I was clean and dry and joined her in the bedroom, she’d laid out clothes for me on the bed: some white socks, the new jeans and a new long-sleeved, white button-down shirt she’d purchased for me the day before, and a new pair of black underwear. I picked up the underwear first, like you do, and froze.

It was a thong.

She saw my hesitation.

“Trust me, John. Please?”

“Really? Why? Not, why should I trust you. But why a thong?”

“It’ll make your ass look really great. Please? Besides, no one but me will ever know.”

She looked so adorable that I couldn’t say no. So I pulled them on, and stood for a minute, getting used to the feeling. It was weird. But when Cheryl kissed me, and told me she’d make it worth my while to wear it ... I pulled on the jeans. Will I let me girlfriend tell me what to wear? Damn right I will. Any day of the week.

As I buttoned up my shirt, and watched Cheryl, dressed only in a towel, looking through her closet, I asked her who the girls were that we were going to hang out with that night.

“Danielle and Keysha? They’re like my closest friends, after Megan. Megan and I met in grade one. You know that, right? And we’ve been besties ever since. Well, on the first day of high school, Megan and I met Key and Dani. We were inseparable for the next four years. We did everything together. But then university happened, and Megan and I went to Laurier, and Dani went to Queen’s, and Key stayed here in Toronto. So we don’t see each other very much.”

“What are they like?”

“Dani’s a lot like Megan, in some ways,” she said, after thinking for a minute. “Except she has a bigger mouth, which sometimes gets her into trouble. She can never just keep quiet, and sometimes she think she knows more than she does. I can take her crap - but once in a while she gets under Megan’s skin. Keysha ... Keysha’s something else. She’s brilliant ... not quite as smart as your Jamie is, maybe, but smarter than any of the rest of us. She’s in pre-med now. She’s also gorgeous. And a ton of fun. I think you’ll enjoy hanging with them. Really.”

As we’d been chatting, Cheryl had finally made a wardrobe decision. She’d settled on a gorgeous, short red dress that hugged her curves beautifully. I didn’t think red-headed girls could wear red, but I was wrong. She looked stunning. After she’d finished putting it on, she did a twirl for me. The flared skirt flew up, revealing the white thong she had on underneath.

“Do I need a bra with this dress?”

I shook my head.

“You look stunning, just as you are.”

We headed down and said goodnight to her parents, then pulled on coats and stepped out into the night. And what a night it was. The wind was blowing, and it was raining. The forecast called for the rain to turn to snow later on - the first snow fall, or slush fall, of the winter. Cheryl drove us to Megan’s to pick her up, and then headed us north and west to the neighbourhood that Keysha lived in.

As it turned out, neither Cheryl nor Megan had been to Keysha’s apartment, because she had just moved into it at the start of the school term. It was on the third floor of a house, about two blocks away from what looked like a pretty busy commercial street. You got to it by climbing up an old fire escape at the back. We parked on the street a few doors away, and climbed the metal staircase. When we reached the landing at the top, Megan banged on the door, and it opened, a few seconds later, to let us in out of the rain and cold. As the last of the three of us to step inside, I pushed the door shut, then turned to meet Cheryl’s friends.

Megan and Cheryl were busy getting hugged. Cheryl pulled away, and gave a little cough. “John, this is Danielle, and this is Keysha. Dani, Key, this is my boyfriend, John.”

Danielle, who was about Megan’s height, with long blonde curly hair (the roots were a bit darker than the rest of it) and lips that I think would best be described as ‘bee-stung’, came over to me and held out her hand. She was wearing a shimmering, silver wraparound dress that plunged deep between her ample breasts, clung to her hips, and was slit high up on her thigh. “Nice to meet you,” she said. I took her hand and shook it.

Keysha stepped over next. She was tall - at least my height, if not a half inch taller. She had short black hair, and flawless dark skin. She was wearing a skintight pair of black metallic spandex leggings, and a black top that hung down loosely over her breasts but which seemed to have no real back - only a series of horizontal straps holding it all together. She held out her arms for a hug, and as her cheek brushed mine, I smelled a wonderfully exotic perfume.

“Welcome to the place I call home,” she said. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” I replied.

Keysha took our coats from us, and I got a chance to check out Megan’s outfit. She’d gone with a short, flared black skirt that reached only about halfway to her knees, which she’d paired with some really sexy boots, and an off-white silk blouse that was unbuttoned far enough to reveal the lacy red bra she was wearing underneath it. She saw me looking her over, and flashed me a grin.

“C’mon in and sit down,” Keysha suggested, “and we can talk about what we want to do.”

Keysha’s place turned out to be a bachelor apartment, where everything is in one room except for the bathroom. At the end where the door was, there was a tiny fridge and stove, a sink, some cupboards, and a small kitchen table. In the middle of the room there was a futon and a couple of chairs, and at the opposite end there was a double bed. The bathroom was beyond that, with a curtain that could be pulled across the doorway. Because it was on the top floor of the house, the ceiling sloped a bit at the edges, and the sloped panels above the livingroom area had large mirrors on them. It was tiny, but funky, and felt cozy rather than cramped, even with five of us there.

Danielle and Megan sat down on the futon. Cheryl pointed me to one of the chairs, and plunked herself down on my knee, leaving the other chair for Keysha.

“God, you two are so cute together, you’re disgusting,” Danielle said, glancing our direction.

“What’s the matter, Dani?” Megan asked. “You single again?”

Danielle nodded. “Fuck, yeah. It’s a long story.”

“Isn’t it always?” Keysha laughed.

“Usually,” Dani agreed. “I’ll fill you all in later. So, what are we doing tonight?”

“I thought we were going clubbing,” Cheryl said.

“Yeah,” Megan added. “Me too. I want to drink. And dance. And drink. And dance. And...”

Everyone laughed.

“I’m good with going out,” Keysha said. “But it’s a shitty night, and it’s supposed to get worse. So if we’re going, let’s go early. I don’t want to be lined up outside some club in the rain for half an hour waiting to get in.”

“I’m always down for drinking,” Dani said. “But ... well, would it be ok if we just hung out here?”

“But you love clubbing!”

“I know, right? But ... see ... I’ve quit smoking. Again. And being out at clubs drinking makes me want to start. Again.”

“But you quit in May, right?”

Dani shook her head. “I just quit three weeks ago. And yes, I also quit in May. I lasted all summer. Then school started and I went out with some friends. And we danced and we drank and then everyone went outside for a smoke, and I bummed one because it was just one ... and then I was doing it all the time again. I know I’m good with you girls, cause none of you’ve ever gone down that road, and John doesn’t smell like a smoker ... so I know I can hang out here and drink, and not worry about getting hooked again.”

“I don’t mind just staying here,” Keysha said. “I’m trying to cut corners, and we could buy a couple of bottles for the cost of one round if we go out. And we won’t have to worry about being hit on by random drunk guys.”

“But I want to dance,” Megan whined.

“Me too,” added Cheryl.

“We can dance here,” Keysha offered. “I’ve got great speakers and the tenant who lives on the second floor is away. We can just put on a playlist and cut loose.”

Cheryl looked at me.

“Hey, I’m just an extra here. But you know me. I’m no dancer. So if I had to choose between a crowded, noisy, club, and just being here, it’d be a no brainer. Still, I will follow you anywhere.”

“We need booze if we’re staying here,” Cheryl said. “I’ve been a good girl for weeks, and I want to relax. What have you got, Key?”

Keysha shook her head. “Not much. I’ve got a bit of vodka and some beer and I think a bottle of white wine. But there’s a liquor store down on the Danforth. It’s less than a five minute walk. Someone can do a booze run.”

“I vote we send the dude,” Danielle said, glancing my direction.

“I’ll go with you, John,” Megan said. “What are we getting? Vodka? Or do you want coolers?”

“Nah, grab some vodka. And some OJ. And cranberry.”

“Sure. Food?”

“We can get pizza later. Grab some munchies? There’s a store on the corner beside the liquor store.”

“Good deal.”

Cheryl stood so I could get up, and walked to the door with me, mostly so she could give me her credit card. Megan and I pulled on our coats, and headed out into the night. The temperature was falling, and the rain was already turning to sleet. But we only had to walk a couple of blocks to reach the liquor store.

Once we were inside, Megan pulled on my hand.

“You ok? The girls aren’t being too much?” I shook my head. “Cause Dani can be a bit abrasive sometimes. Just ignore her. Or throw it back at her. She mostly is just insecure, and can’t admit it, so she tries to sound tough. But we all know that if someone outside the group was giving us crap, Dani would totally have our backs.”

“Thanks for the insight. I appreciate it. She seems ok, though. And Keysha seems really nice.”

“Key’s an angel. And a freakin’ genius.”

Megan tugged me towards the vodka, and pulled a 40 ounce bottle off the shelf. She held it for a minute, then put it back, and grabbed two 26s instead. I looked sideways at her.

“It may be a long night. Are you ok with this?”

I sighed.

“I’ve never been much of a drinker. But yes, I’m ok if you guys want to cut loose. How will we get home?”

“Unless you stay sober enough to drive us, we’ll call a cab, and come back and get Cheryl’s car in the morning. Don’t worry. Your girl isn’t always the most sensible cookie in the jar. But she’s not stupid.” She gave me a quick hug. “Seriously, she’d never drive drunk. And if you tell her to go slow tonight, she will. She loves you, you know. She really does.”

“I don’t want her to feel like she can’t let loose because I’m here. It’ll be ok. Really.”

We reached the checkout, and I paid. Or at least Cheryl paid, since it was her credit card. Then we walked next door to the convenience store and bought orange and cranberry juice - in much smaller quantities than we had vodka, I noticed - and some chips and cheezies. Megan paid for that, and we walked as quickly as we could back to Keysha’s.