Candace And The Frat Boys Ch 02

Candace and the Frat Boys (Chapter 2)

Kathryn M. Burke

When Candace awoke the next morning she was, to her surprise, alone. She figured that Josh would want to spend as much time with her as possible before she had to go home.

And when she tried to move, even the simple act of rolling onto her back produced such a throbbing of pain over her entire body that she let out a loud groan.

Jesus, I really overdid things last night—no thanks to the insatiable Josh.

The sound evidently brought Josh running back to the room. He was, mercifully, clothed this time, although he was only wearing a pair of jeans with no shirt. He rushed up to the bed, saying, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just . . . sore," she said with a sigh.

Josh knelt down next to her, not knowing what to do to make things better.

She looked over at him. "Can you find my clothes? They must be downstairs in that room where we were—unless someone's taken them."

"Nobody's taken them," Josh said, vaguely insulted that she would accuse his frat buddies of being petty thieves. "Our president has kept them safe."

"Can you get them? I really ought to be getting on home."

"We were hoping you'd have breakfast with us."

"Fine—but I'd like to be wearing my own clothes rather than this silly thing." She pointed derisively to the borrowed nightgown.

Josh suddenly blushed. "Would you, um, like some fresh underwear?"

"Where are

you

going to find some fresh women's underwear?" she said skeptically.

For an answer, Josh stood up and walked over to his dresser, reaching deep into the top drawer. He pulled out an incredibly skimpy pair of red lace panties.

She looked at them incredulously. "Where on earth did you get those?"

Josh's blush deepened. "I found them in a washing machine in my freshman dorm. I don't know who they belonged to, but I've washed them several times."

"Have you now?" she said, in a tone of voice that said,

What exactly did you do to them that required you to wash them over and over again?

"They're really clean, I swear to you!" he said almost hysterically.

"I believe you," she said with a smile. "I'll put them on, but just get my other clothes, okay?"

Josh almost threw the panties at Candace, then rushed out to get the clothes. He was back in under a minute, a pile of neatly folded garments—blouse, skirt, bra, and used panties—in one hand and her shoes in the other. He stuffed the panties in his pocket, on the assumption that, by deciding to wear the new pair, Candace had renounced all interest and ownership of the other. He held out the articles to her like a votive offering.

She took them and, under Josh's relentless gaze, put them on. It seemed that he was as fixated on her getting dressed as he had been on her stripping—and that he found her as beautiful clothed as naked.

He himself slipped on a none too clean T-shirt and led her downstairs.

It was unclear how many of the occupants of the house were in the dining room, but the moment the dozen or so guys who were there caught sight of Candace, they broke out into a thunderous applause, accompanied by whoops and cries, that she tried to take as a compliment. She was a bit unnerved by being the only woman in the place, but allowed herself to be led to the head of the table, where she sat down. The guy who seemed to be in charge of things—presumably the fraternity's president—introduced himself as Matt and shouted to someone in the kitchen behind the dining room:

"Let's whip up some breakfast for the lady, okay?"

In a matter of seconds, a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, and toast was set before Candace, along with a big mug of coffee. It was close to ten a.m., so it seemed that most of the other guys—however late their previous night's exertions, whether with her or with others, had been—had already had their breakfasts. Candace felt more than a little self-conscious being the only one eating, especially since she was now beginning to recognize a fair number of the men who had inserted their organs into various parts of her body. They were all gazing at her with a kind of delighted reverence—but Candace was starving, so she dug into the food with gusto.

"You were really fabulous!" Matt enthused as she ate.

"Thank you," Candace said, her mouth full. After swallowing, she said in a low voice, "Just out of curiosity: how many guys were there who—you know . . ."

"Interesting that you should ask," Matt said jovially. "I think all but two of the guys here had you."

"How many would that be?"

"That would be fourteen. We have sixteen guys living here."

Candace pondered that number. It seemed a little . . . low. "But were there—?"

"Oh, yeah, there were others. I hope you don't mind, but we sent out a call to some others who we thought might be interested."

"Did you now?"

"Yeah. So about twelve others came over."

"So," Candace said, "that makes twenty-six in all?"

"Well, here's the thing," Matt said. "A fair number of these guys came back for seconds."

"Is that right?"

"A lot of them had you two or three at a time, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"So the grand total"—and here Matt fished out a small piece of paper from his shirt pocket—"was forty-two."

Candace stopped eating, feeling suddenly faint. "You're telling me I got poked forty-two times last night?" she whispered.

Actually, that would be forty-four times, counting Josh's two pokes during and after the shower.

"You bet," Matt said. "That must be some sort of record!"

"Yes, it must be," Candace said ruefully.

No wonder I feel so stiff and sore.

She continued eating, now staring at her plate and pretending there was no one else in the room.

Josh came to her rescue. After she had finished her breakfast, he said, "I can take you home now. I have a car."

"That would be wonderful," she said.

She had no wrap, so she got up hastily from the table and made her way out of the house, giving a brief wave of the hand as, with a sudden spasm of embarrassment, she acknowledged another round of applause from the assembled men.

She got into Josh's car, lost in thought.

Good Lord, how could I have let myself go like that? It's not at all surprising that these guys think I'm some sort of—

Josh wasn't helping any, saying almost nothing to her aside from asking directions to her house. She didn't live terribly far away from campus, so the drive only took about ten minutes.

As Josh pulled up to the curb in front of her house, Candace said, "I may need some help getting to the door."

But Josh, almost the moment he had brought the car to a halt, had jumped out of it and rushed around the front, like an excessively attentive old-world gentleman holding every possible door open for the "lady" he took her to be.

Even though she was feeling better, the revelation of the number of men who had invaded her body was still affecting her, and she felt like some kind of invalid as she clung to Josh's arm and walked slowly and unsteadily up the short walkway and up the stairs of the porch to her front door.

She was about to thank Josh for his various courtesies and attentions when he burst out with: "Can I see you again, ma'am?"

She rolled her eyes. "Josh, please try to call me by my name. After what we've been through, it's the least you can do. Being referred to as 'ma'am,' even by a young guy like you, makes me feel ancient."

"I'm sorry, ma'am—I mean Candace," he said quickly. "I was raised to respect my elders."

That comment didn't help so much either. She looked him over, the desperate eagerness in his eyes seeming almost painful.

"Josh," she said, stroking his cheek, "you've been awfully nice to me. But I really don't think—"

"I just wanna talk with you!" he exclaimed. "I don't expect anything more! I'd just like to get to know you better. That's all, I promise."

She sighed—for what she felt was the dozenth time. "Okay, fine. Why don't you come over for dinner sometime? I'll cook you something."

He seemed taken aback by her offer. "You don't have to do that. I can take you out somewhere."

"Um, I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Anyway, I like to cook—and cooking for one is no fun."

"Okay," he said. "How about tomorrow?"

"That may be a little soon," she said. In spite of his protestations, she suspected he wanted to do a little more than chow down with her and have a heart-to-heart talk. "I need a little more time to recover. How about Wednesday?"

"All right," he said sulkily, like a little boy. The idea of waiting the better part of four days to see his paragon again seemed to weigh heavily on him.

She took pity on him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pasted a long, firm kiss on his mouth. After an initial surprise, he got into the spirit of things by kissing her back and pressing her body to his.

He was sliding his hand down in the direction of her bottom when she stopped him.

"No, Josh, not out here," she said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "That would be quite naughty. Go on home now."

He was appeased, and tripped down the steps of her porch with a broad smile and a lilting heart.

*

Wednesday couldn't come soon enough for Josh. As for Candace, it seemed to come all too soon.

She spent all day Sunday doing very little—and, basically, trying to put the whole episode at the frat house out of her mind. She was tempted to call in sick on Monday, but in fact she felt reasonably good and seemed to be able to walk without too much discomfort. Even so, her secretary—a pert young thing named Sandra—took notice.

"Gee, Candace, you look a bit the worse for wear!" she cried. Candace had tried in vain to get her to call her "Ms. Merrill."

"Yeah, well, maybe I overdid the exercise," Candace lied.

"Oh, did you now?" Sandra said with a knowing smirk. Candace didn't feel inclined to respond to the implication.

But when she had lunch with her friend Jane Masters, who worked in Admissions, she faced some further scrutiny.

The first thing Jane said when Candace showed up at her office was, "God, Candace, are you all right?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Candace snapped. "I'm fine. Don't I look it?"

"Well, frankly, you look quite literally as if you've been through the ringer."

"Oh, come on, that's ridiculous!"

But Candace spotted herself in a mirror as they walked to their lunch place—and had to agree that she indeed looked a bit haggard.

"Rough weekend?" Jane pursued, smirking just as Sandra had done. Jane knew that Candace did like the company of men, but she was also aware that her friend seemed to be taking a bit of a vacation from male pawing and petting.

"Nothing of the sort," Candace said. "Just tired, I guess."

And yet, as their lunch proceeded, Candace was on the verge of spilling the beans to Jane. But she refrained. How would her friend react to such a revelation? Jane herself seemed reasonably happily married, although she almost never mentioned her husband to Candace. Was that only out of respect for the fact that Candace herself was now solo? Anyway, the idea of any woman allowing herself to be penetrated more than forty times in a matter of hours by oversexed frat boys would have struck Jane as such an appalling repudiation of feminism—and of a woman's ability to control the rampant male—that she might have never spoken to Candace again. Maybe she might even have reported the dereliction to the powers-that-be in the administration. Candace had dismissed the possibility of being fired for such an act, but now she wasn't so sure.

So she kept mum.

Wednesday came for Candace all too fast; for Josh, it was an agonizing wait. So it didn't surprise her that, as she found herself delayed at the office with some last-minute work and only managed to trudge home close to 6 p.m., she found Josh waiting on her doorstep like a lost puppy.

"Sorry if I'm early," he said, looking at his hands.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "You'll be a welcome relief from all the stupidity I've had to deal with at work."

Even that feeble compliment was enough to bring a broad smile to his face, and he held the screen door open for her as she fiddled with keys and opened the front door. As he drifted into the house, he looked around as if he'd just been invited into a private viewing of Buckingham Palace.

"You live here all by yourself? It's huge!" he burbled.

"I do now," she said sourly. "I'm divorced. I got the house in the settlement."

Josh blushed crimson—something Candace was finding increasingly charming. (

When have I last been with a guy who blushes so easily?

) "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't know."

"No reason why you should have," she said tartly.

Dumping her purse on an end table next to the long sofa in the living room, she made a beeline to the kitchen and said over her shoulder, "Dinner's going to be just a little while. How about a drink?" Then she paused abruptly, peering keenly at her guest. "Are you old enough to drink?"

"I just turned twenty-one last summer," he said with some pride, adding: "But I don't drink much."

"Well, you're probably smart about that," she said. "But

I

need a drink."

Candace fixed herself a martini while tossing Josh a can of lemon-lime soda out of the fridge. Then, just as she was about to start cooking dinner, she said sharply: "You're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"No, ma'am," he replied promptly.

She glared at him. "What did I say about calling me 'ma'am'?"

"Sorry, sorry!" he said. "I mean—"

She smiled at him. "Oh, I'm teasing you, Josh. If it's really more natural for you to call me 'ma'am,' then go ahead."

"Thank you, ma'am, Candace," he said clumsily.

The meal was actually ready in under half an hour: pork chops, mashed potatoes (out of a box—but she prided herself on how well they came out with the addition of dill, garlic, and some other things), and steamed vegetables. There were the remnants of a store-bought chocolate cake for dessert.

Throughout the meal, Candace pumped Josh for information about himself. It was a way of keeping him busy so that he wouldn't be constantly fixated on her every move, as he seemed to be; but she was genuinely curious about this charming and engaging young man who was expressing such devotion to her.

It turned out he was from a small town in New Hampshire. He didn't have good enough grades to get into Dartmouth, and for some reason he didn't care for the overall curriculum of the state's other main institution of higher learning, the University of New Hampshire; so Lorimer was the place for him. He was just starting his senior year, getting a combined degree in mathematics and economics; but he was still unclear whether to pursue an advanced degree or just enter the work force.

Candace was impressed with Josh's earnest approach to his studies; but she was interested in more personal details.

"What about girls?" she asked bluntly.

True to form, Josh immediately turned crimson. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Josh, you know what I mean. I assume I'm not the first woman you've, um, plowed. You seemed to know pretty well what you were doing."

"I've not had that many girls!" he cried, as if being unfamiliar with females would be a point in his favor.

Candace cracked a smile. "It's okay to have had previous involvements," she said quietly. "I won't be jealous."

I'm not even sure I'm going to have anything approaching a "relationship" with you, so why should I care how many females you've bedded down with?

"But it's true," he said desperately. "I've only had two."

"Is that all? Well, they must have taught you well."

"Not really," he said lugubriously.

"Tell me about them," she said encouragingly.

He sighed in frustration. "Well, the first one—her name was Betty—was in sophomore year. We went out a couple times, and I thought we were really hitting it off. So we went back to her dorm room one evening and began fooling around. She really seemed to be getting into it; in fact, I'd say she almost jumped my bones!"

"She was pretty eager, huh?"

"You bet! Man, she was pawing me all over, and scrabbling at my pants to get them unzipped. I'll admit I was doing the same thing to her, and had managed to get her sweater and bra off. She had pretty nice tits," he said reminiscently, then added hastily: "Nothing like yours, though!"

"Thank you."

"Anyway, she got my fly unzipped—in fact, she pulled down my pants all the way to my ankles. But then she took one look at my, um, thing and let out this huge gasp."

"What for?"

"Well, you know . . ." He seemed even more flustered than before.

"She wasn't expecting it to be so big?"

"I guess."

"You

do

have some impressive equipment—maybe it would be frightening to someone who hasn't had any experience. I take it she was a virgin?"

"Yes. Anyway, she wrapped her hand around it and even tugged at it for a while. Then she put, like, the first inch of it into her mouth, even though she was grimacing the whole time. It was just something she felt she had to do."

"Well, guys are pretty insistent that girls give them head—at least as foreplay."

"I guess. It actually grew while it was in her mouth, and that seemed to freak her out even more."

"Poor girl!"

"But by this time she was so hot that she wasn't going to stop. She let go of my cock and peeled off her skirt and panties. She was really good-looking—an untouched nineteen-year-old, just like me! Maybe with a little baby fat here and there, especially around the middle, but still pretty desirable."

"I'd say—especially if you'd never seen a girl naked before."

"I hadn't. So I was ready to go! But I knew that I needed to get her roused up first. So"—and Josh for some reason looked away from Candace as he said this—"I went down on her."

"You licked her pussy? Good boy! She must have liked that."

"Yeah, she did. She was kind of sitting on her butt on the bed, her arms propping her up, her legs spread. That pussy was already dripping with her juices, and I could smell it even from a distance. Well, I just plunged my face into her delta and licked it all over. I even rubbed my face against her pubic hair. She didn't have quite the bush you have, but it was still nice."

"Glad to hear it."

"Anyway, she kept my head pinned to her pussy with her hands, as if she didn't want me to stop. I quickly understood that this wasn't just going to be foreplay. She was moaning and groaning loudly, not caring who else in the building could hear her; and her pussy was really flowing, getting my face all wet and smearing the inside of her thighs also. Then all of a sudden she let out a scream and starting bucking and shaking. I kept on licking—somebody had told me you could make a girl keep on coming if you continued to stimulate her gently even after her orgasm began. Anyway, she wasn't letting go of my head, and so I just kept on licking.

"Finally she pushed me away and fell back, her eyes glazed and her mouth open. Her tongue was sticking a little bit out of her mouth. Man, she looked so tempting I just wanted to plunge into her right then! But I knew I should wait a little bit before I took care of my needs.

"In a few minutes she seemed ready for me. She stretched out her arms and encouraged me to get on top of her. Then she whispered in my ear, 'Please go into me.'

"Your wish is my command, lady!

"But I had to be gentle, didn't I? I didn't want to hurt her, although I knew she would probably feel some pain no matter what. So I put the very tip of my cock into her pussy—but even so, she suddenly stiffened, and her eyes got all big, and she said, 'Omigod!' I guess she was coming to terms with the fact that it was really happening.