Page 4 of Bad for You

He rolled to his back, yanked the front of his jeans open, and pulled out his impressive but mainly flaccid penis. It slapped against his stomach. “Suck it.”

I’d never really given anyone a blow job before. I’d had a penis in my mouth for like three seconds, again with my ex, but I’d barely wrapped my mouth around him and it’d been all over. And Jesse expected me to get him hard?

I felt like an idiot. Not sure what to do. Embarrassed. I kind of wanted to get off the bed and run away. But this was Jesse, and I wanted this to be perfect. So I climbed over him and scooted down a bit. Taking his soft dick in my hand, I licked the wrinkly skin, kissed it, kind of rubbing it a bit at the same time.

I did this for a while, but nothing was happening. I was doing it wrong, and this was confirmed to me when Jesse pressed his hand to my forehead and pushed me away.

“Forget it.”

I blinked at him, startled, fighting back tears. “I’m s-sorry, I-I’ve never done this before. Just tell me what you need me to do—”

A snore rolled out of him.

“Jesse?”

Nothing.

I crawled up the bed and touched his face. Humiliation burned my cheeks. He was out cold. I’d put him to sleep sucking his dick.

He muttered something, then rolled, covering me in the process and pinning me to the bed.

I squirmed, tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. I stared up at the ceiling, mortified, heartbroken, unable to move under his weight. I would not cry.

As soon as he rolled off me, I was out of there.

Jesse

My head thumped and my mouth felt like I’d been sucking on a sponge all night.

I shifted.

Shit, I was on top of someone. I vaguely remembered some chick coming into my room before I passed out.

A familiar scent filled my head and I froze. I jerked back, looking down at the owner of the soft, rounded body beneath me.

“The fuck?” I choked. “Lila?”

She stared up at me with furious eyes, red-rimmed like she’d been crying, and shoved at my chest. I lifted up onto my hands and got an eyeful of her bare tit. Her sweater had been shoved up around her neck, her bra cup yanked down, revealing soft round flesh and a sweet rosy nipple.

I nearly swallowed my tongue. “The fuck?”

“Get the hell off me,” she said, yanking down her top, eyes filling with tears, face bright red.

“Lila? What happened…did I, did we—” My jeans were undone. I looked down between our bodies and winced. My cock was blowing in the breeze. I had a seriously bad case of whisky dick, and the fucker hung there soft and pathetic. My hungover brain sluggishly started to wake up.

My head snapped up, my eyes locking on hers. “Lila…”

“Get. Off.” She was looking at me like I was the biggest asshole in existence. And she was right.

I rolled off her, put my dick away, and quickly climbed off the bed. My head pounded, and I nearly fell on my ass with the way it spun. “What the hell happened here?”

She scrambled off the bed as well and did up her jeans.

Why the fuck were her jeans undone?

She snatched her glasses from the bedside table, shoving them on and wrapped her arms around herself. “You know exactly what happened here.”

I shoved my fingers through my hair, feeling sick. “No. I don’t.”