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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
Terran Farfield was having a blast of his youth. It had been touch and go for a while, when his parents wouldn't foot the bill to the expensive university he applied for, and got into. The summer had been planned out with some work on a rig somewhere, where he could possibly make enough money for a few semesters, and then work it out from there, provided housing was sorted out. But then aunt Lilly came through as she always did. He wasn't sure, but he suspected that part of him had chosen this Uni because she lived in the area. At least that's where he must have gotten the idea from.
She had done well for herself. Mom was proud of her sister, though there was talk about aunt Lillian being a lesbian. She went on dates with men, sure, but they never amounted to anything, and it wasn't like she'd had that much time, focusing on her career. Which was impressive. Impressive enough that she had this house. It was a large building. Big enough to host parties in, even though she'd told him not to. There was a time when he would have listened to her, since she used to babysit him a lot. He remembered her as an authority figure but also someone he could relay on with problems he couldn't present to mom and dad. That's why he'd been comfortable living under her roof during a time in his life when he should be free.
Maybe too free.
He was a healthy, red-blooded male, and the rules she'd given him felt more like challenges, these days, despite it being her house. He liked the odd night when they'd stay up and talk as he was bent over texts in her kitchen, and she came home late. But that could only be part of this experience to him. He had long since gotten a taste for the elicit pleasures, and though they paid for themselves mostly, his fervency with them was spilling over somewhat to both his studies and other parts of his life.
And that's what this was. Her house, that she loved, was now swimming with guests she didn't know. Guests her nephew's age. Most of the music equipment wasn't hers, and the colored lights definitely weren't. Some of the wine bottles had to be, though, because the crowd that was currently haunting the expensive address wasn't exactly the kind you'd match to the bottles strewn around on the lawn.
Terran had been at it for a while. So much so he was in between intoxications. It made him register the lips he was currently eating. The girl tasted like the thick of Jaeger and the acid of having puked recently. It made him smile. It was lazy because of all the converging chemicals in him, even if they were dissipating. He drew the tip of his tongue along the side of hers as far back into her mouth as he could, the corners of their lips mashing to extend the reach of their slick muscles. And then he pulled back and was done with her. She nodded dumbly and was on her way when his put his palm to her face. She staggered off with her top revealing one breast. He was sure it was his hand that had done it.
Terran got up from the couch that he shared with another couple. He had a black shirt on and dark jeans. The shirt was mostly entirely unbottoned over his skinny frame that belied a rather fat, long, hidden part of him. He ran his lengthy fingers through his dark hair a few times, a family trait, as he looked around at the bodies and listened to the noise and activity. He found the kitchen and tried a few red cups on the island, but there wasn't enough in any of them. He remembered the stash of hard liquor he'd hidden away in the pantry, and after a few moments of rummaging around with his hand in a cereal box, he was able to retrieve a still cold vodka bottle.
He sighed with some triumph as he put the bottom of it to his temple and ducked into a corner of the populated livingroom. On his way he's slid by sweaty bodies and more than a little debris on the floor. He chuckled to himself at the shitshow it'd be when aunt Lillian came home to this, but had decided at the beginning of this mistake that he wouldn't worry about it until he had to. Maybe he knew that she'd be alright with it eventually, because she's always been cool and he'd always been her favorite. Leaning against the wall, he flipped the cork with his thumb, playing with it until it fell off, as though he was deliberately delaying getting drunk again.
But eventually the mouth of that chemical was breathing its industrial breath at him, and all he could do was tip it once and swallow hard. He lowered the silver label glass and wiped with the wrist of the same hand. He laughed at the burn and shook his head to spread it. That was the good stuff. He shrugged off the wall and looked out at the party. He'd really filled her home with all these strangers. Already he'd made a fortune, peddling pills and smokes, probably enough for damages and then some. But he'd never have enough for her upset. He drank another mouthful.
Who the fuck cared? He was going to get his cock sucked and have a good time.
She had done well for herself. Mom was proud of her sister, though there was talk about aunt Lillian being a lesbian. She went on dates with men, sure, but they never amounted to anything, and it wasn't like she'd had that much time, focusing on her career. Which was impressive. Impressive enough that she had this house. It was a large building. Big enough to host parties in, even though she'd told him not to. There was a time when he would have listened to her, since she used to babysit him a lot. He remembered her as an authority figure but also someone he could relay on with problems he couldn't present to mom and dad. That's why he'd been comfortable living under her roof during a time in his life when he should be free.
Maybe too free.
He was a healthy, red-blooded male, and the rules she'd given him felt more like challenges, these days, despite it being her house. He liked the odd night when they'd stay up and talk as he was bent over texts in her kitchen, and she came home late. But that could only be part of this experience to him. He had long since gotten a taste for the elicit pleasures, and though they paid for themselves mostly, his fervency with them was spilling over somewhat to both his studies and other parts of his life.
And that's what this was. Her house, that she loved, was now swimming with guests she didn't know. Guests her nephew's age. Most of the music equipment wasn't hers, and the colored lights definitely weren't. Some of the wine bottles had to be, though, because the crowd that was currently haunting the expensive address wasn't exactly the kind you'd match to the bottles strewn around on the lawn.
Terran had been at it for a while. So much so he was in between intoxications. It made him register the lips he was currently eating. The girl tasted like the thick of Jaeger and the acid of having puked recently. It made him smile. It was lazy because of all the converging chemicals in him, even if they were dissipating. He drew the tip of his tongue along the side of hers as far back into her mouth as he could, the corners of their lips mashing to extend the reach of their slick muscles. And then he pulled back and was done with her. She nodded dumbly and was on her way when his put his palm to her face. She staggered off with her top revealing one breast. He was sure it was his hand that had done it.
Terran got up from the couch that he shared with another couple. He had a black shirt on and dark jeans. The shirt was mostly entirely unbottoned over his skinny frame that belied a rather fat, long, hidden part of him. He ran his lengthy fingers through his dark hair a few times, a family trait, as he looked around at the bodies and listened to the noise and activity. He found the kitchen and tried a few red cups on the island, but there wasn't enough in any of them. He remembered the stash of hard liquor he'd hidden away in the pantry, and after a few moments of rummaging around with his hand in a cereal box, he was able to retrieve a still cold vodka bottle.
He sighed with some triumph as he put the bottom of it to his temple and ducked into a corner of the populated livingroom. On his way he's slid by sweaty bodies and more than a little debris on the floor. He chuckled to himself at the shitshow it'd be when aunt Lillian came home to this, but had decided at the beginning of this mistake that he wouldn't worry about it until he had to. Maybe he knew that she'd be alright with it eventually, because she's always been cool and he'd always been her favorite. Leaning against the wall, he flipped the cork with his thumb, playing with it until it fell off, as though he was deliberately delaying getting drunk again.
But eventually the mouth of that chemical was breathing its industrial breath at him, and all he could do was tip it once and swallow hard. He lowered the silver label glass and wiped with the wrist of the same hand. He laughed at the burn and shook his head to spread it. That was the good stuff. He shrugged off the wall and looked out at the party. He'd really filled her home with all these strangers. Already he'd made a fortune, peddling pills and smokes, probably enough for damages and then some. But he'd never have enough for her upset. He drank another mouthful.
Who the fuck cared? He was going to get his cock sucked and have a good time.