Gretchen had been in band with me since 4th grade. She had been a homely, gangly, nerdy little redhead most of that time and, while we were friends, I'd never really thought of her in any way but as a friend.
In the first two years of high school, she took a lot of harassing over her looks and I'd made more than one asshole apologize for making her cry. Yeah, she had a hook nose that was too large for her face and she didn't have much in the tit department, but she was a genuinely nice person and I liked her. Even a few female classmates, who were initially put off by her looks, accepted her once they got to know her. Until Bree, that is.
Bree was a hottie that moved to our high school when I was in my senior year. She was blonde, gorgeous and stacked. It was reputed that her folks had moved here because she'd been caught fucking either the football team or several of her teachers. Nobody knew which story was true and she would just smile when asked about it.
I got her as a lab partner in our physics class, gaining glares from Gretchen. Bree had me wound around her little finger and everyone saw it but me. Part of it was the way she dressed; usually in a tight, sheer blouse, push-up bras, a leather mini-skirt or tight shorts and stockings with garters and stiletto heels. She knew how to dress to show off her assets, that's for sure! She was mean and rude to others while she flirted and teased me all semester long, but I found her entertaining.
At my 18th birthday party, Gretch made snide comments about Bree that caused a rift between us and she quit speaking to me for a while, which hurt because Gretchen's 18th birthday was in April and I wasn't invited, though I dropped off the present I'd bought her. A month later, when Gretch was still not talking to me, I asked Bree to Prom, even though I'd promised Gretchen I'd take her. Instead, I bribed my cousin with $200 to take Gretchen instead.
We did all the usual prom things -- going to dinner, renting a limo, going to the dance and then heading out to the lake shore afterwards. After that, I had the limo drive the four of us to a nice hotel. We had adjoining rooms for the rest of the weekend.
I slowly undressed my blonde goddess and she did the same to me. If I hadn't been so horny, I'd probably have stopped at that point. Why? Well, you know how some people look much better dressed than they do when they're naked? Bree was one of those. Oh, she was a hottie and a flirt but, without all the support of her high-fashion, snooty-retail-store clothing and makeup, she had saggy tits with big, ugly (to me) nipples that pointed downward, instead of out. The left one also seemed oddly smaller than the right. I don't know how to accurately describe it, other than to say that the product inside didn't match the promise of the packaging. I'd never seen a more asymmetrical looking woman in my life!
She must have been used to guys just falling all over themselves to get into her pants because Bree just laid there as I tried to make love to her. Oh, she sucked my cock, which was the best thing she did, but wouldn't let me lick her pussy, wouldn't let me touch her back hole and just laid there as I thrust into her. It's not like I didn't know what I was doing. Hell, I'd had sex with a girl babysitting my brothers and she'd been in college at the time. I'd also had three girls that went "all the way" with me because they were military brats. It was, basically, "goodbye" sex because their fathers or mothers ended up stationed somewhere else in the world.
I tried to spice things up with Bree by holding her arms down during sex or turning her so that she was on top of me, but she fought and complained, saying that her legs were getting tired or she'd get a cramp or something else. Whatever it was, she certainly didn't live up to her vampy reputation.
We laid in silence on the bed after she let me cum on her belly (promptly jumping up to wash off in the bath). We were drinking rum and cokes, my intent being to try and loosen her up a bit for the next round of sex. We could hear music playing in Gretchen and Marco's room. Then we heard a shriek and laughter as the headboard banged against the wall. Pretty soon there was more of a regular banging that started off softly and then became more and more frantic. Bree started to laugh.
"I can't imagine anyone wanting to fuck that little troll!" she said out loud, the alcohol loosening her tongue.
"Gretchen is not a troll!" I said, defensively, "She's one of the nicest people I know."
"More like she's one of the ugliest people you know!" countered Bree. "She's not half as hot as I am!"
This conversation was starting to piss me off, especially since we could hear her moaning and calling out "harder! HARDER!" Here I was, sitting here with what I thought to be a hot chick that would be the fuck of my life and the one I should have been with was next door, getting it from my cousin. I began to mentally kick myself.
"Well, I happen to like her," I said, casting glances at the wall. "We've been friends a long time and I don't like hearing people put her down!"
"Oh, fuck yes! Suck on my clit, you bastard!" we heard through the wall.
"Gawd, listen to her!" snickered Bree. "She sounds like a hooker!"
"Lick me more! YESS! THERE! OH FUCK, I'M GOING TO CUM ON YOUR FACE!"
"EWWW! She's letting his tongue down there?"
"You should try it, you might like it," I mumbled, feeling the booze hitting me, as well as my cock getting harder. I was really wishing it were me next door.
"What was that?" said Bree, jumping up and looking at me.
"I said it sounds like they're having more fun that we are!" I groused.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she shrieked.
"I mean..." Hell, what did I mean?
"Fuck you, Randy!" she screamed, throwing a pillow at me and then trying to scratch me with her nails.
"Get the fuck off me you psycho cunt!" I yelled, pushing her off me. She picked up a lamp and threw it at me, then anything else she could find. I jumped off the bed and was about to push the adjoining door open when Marco opened it for me.
"What the hell is going on?" he said, then ducked as a crystal glass tumbler when sailing past his head. I pushed him into the room and closed the door behind us as another glass hit it and shattered. I looked over at Gretchen and did a double-take. She was in a cute little teddy that made her look magnificent. She had a better body than I'd thought!
There were more screams and crashes from my room and then we heard people rushing down the hall. Marco opened the door and poked his head out to watch.
"It's the cops!" he whispered back into the room. There was a knock on the door and Bree opened it. It was hotel staff and a police officer.
"What the hell's going on here?"
"My boyfriend left me!" wailed Bree, falling to the floor dramatically and spasming into wretching sobs. They finally had to call an ambulance and take her away because they couldn't get anything out of her. I borrowed a robe from Marco and went out into the hall to talk to the police. A couple more officers arrived and one looked at Bree.
"Oh, I know her!" he said.
"So do I," said one of the EMT's, snickering.
They took my statement and told me to come down to the station again in the morning. The hotel staff asked us to leave, but we convinced them, via my credit card, that things would be fine. Her little "fit" had cost me close to $1300, though.
"What the hell was that about?" Gretchen asked after everything settled down.
"Well, she's not as much of a tramp as everyone seems to think she is," I said, then relayed the events of the evening, but leaving out her cutting remarks.
"She got angry because she heard us?" asked Gretch, amazed.
"Yeah."
"You have any of that rum left, cuz?" asked Marco
.
