Worst/Best Dance

I’d been looking forward to prom for a month. I had planned to fuck Devon, too. I’d even found the perfect place to sneak away. I’d thought he was as excited as me to do it, too. We’d fooled around plenty, and it had just seemed all building up. I was already a little slick walking to his car after he knocked on my door to pick me up – and I told him so. He grinned at me and pinched my butt.

But once we got there, it didn’t go as I’d planned or hoped. Two of Dev’s friends had snuck flasks in to the dance, and he’d gotten smashed with them, without even realizing it. He ended up in no shape for anything – he could barely focus on me, much less kiss, or drive. Upset and angry, I was going to call my dad to pick me up, but first I called his. I didn’t want Dev to get in trouble with school, but his family? That would be justice enough. He lived closer, too, so he could be gone by the time Dad arrived, and I wouldn’t have to be embarrassed by a sloshed boyfriend. I would just say we had a fight and he left without me, which wouldn’t be a total lie, after all. 

Mr. Walker arrived grim-faced, and I helped pour Dev into the back seat of his car. Then we sat in the front, waiting for my Dad to arrive, listening to an oldies 90′s radio station..

“I should apologize on Devon’s behalf,” Mr. Walker said. “Stupid kid, blowing his chance like that.”

“What?!” I asked, suddenly mortified at the thought he might know–

“You mean you weren’t planning on going ‘all the way,’ as we used to call it, with him tonight? He was pretty sure it was going to happen.”

“No! I mean well, maybe. Yes, but–”

“Relax. Devon’s a good kid, usually. Really open with his mother and me. That trust is important to him and us.”

“Well. This is embarrassing.”

“It shouldn’t be. We think Devon is lucky to have a girlfriend like you.” He counted off on his fingers, “Smart, caring, and hell, even my wife thinks you’re hot.”

I could feel myself blushing at this.

“Which is why it’s a shame he blew it. He’s going to have to work pretty hard to win back your trust, and ours…”

“You don’t?” I asked.


“You don’t think I’m hot?” I don’t know who was using my voice to ask that question. The stupid girl question just came out. Maybe it was because Dev didn’t seem to think I was hot enough to stay sober to bang me…

Dev’s dad looked at me, straight in the eye, assessing, then spoke with an even voice.

“Gail, I’ll be perfectly frank with you. I think you deserve that. Second to Devon’s mother, you’re the most fuckable girl I’ve ever met.”

I stared at him for a long breath, half in shock. Then, some other girl, some crazy, grateful, lustful, needy girl inside me, was leaning over the armrest and kissing him. To my surprise, he didn’t pull back. He didn’t push me away and stare at me and call me a slut and say he’d been wrong about me and never to see Dev again. Instead, he kissed me back.

And what a kiss. For a stern, hard looking older man, his lips were soft, and he knew how to use them. His tongue licked at me – and then slipped into my mouth. My breath caught, and then I just melted. I reached for him, and he for me. His hand on my breast, even over my dress made me moan into his mouth. He smelled and tasted like strength, confidence, maleness. Without even thinking about it, following only instinct and need, I climbed over the seat to straddle him, my dress hiking up as I settled onto his lap, never breaking our kiss.

Dev’s dad’s hands trailed up my legs and thighs. One slid between, and over the dampening crotch of my panties, and I shuddered, back arching, hips bucking into him, almost cumming right there. But he paused then, moving one hand down to slide the seat back and then bringing both back to me on one side. He gripped the waistband of my panties in strong fingers, at the hip where they were just really a little strip of stretchy fabric, and broke it like it was a thread. He did the same to the other side, and then slid his hand back down to my now bare pussy. His fingers were warm, and felt strong, and moved just so, and touched just there, and curled– I came, after an amazingly short time, shuddering and grinding onto his hand, staring down into his eyes in disbelief and pleasure.

He looked back at me, dark, adult, lustful but restrained. A look I’d seen in Dev’s face, but so much more. Still moaning, still moving on his hand, my fingers fumbled with his belt, and the button and zipper of his slacks. I raised myself as I got them open and tried ineffectively to pull them down.

His hands were on my wrists, then.

“Gail. Slow. Think. Be sure.”

He was looking into my eyes again, and as much as I thought I could fall in love with Dev, I might have fallen in love with his dad, a little, just then. But I heard the seriousness in Mr. Walker’s voice, and I made myself take a breath, and think, and choose.


He looked at me a few heartbeats longer, then raised his hips, let go of my wrists, and slid his slacks and boxers down under me. The one steady motion freed his cock, which swung up between us, stiffening quickly and completely now that it was unconstrained, and making me gasp at the sight. It was big, and warm in my hand as my fingers encircled it. He sighed quietly, shaft twitching in my grip as he rested his hands on my outer thighs, letting me make the move.

But there was no way this was going any other direction. The needy girl inside me was in control. She was the one who raised me onto my knees and settled the cockhead between my folds. She was the one who dropped me down onto it, full and hard, before I could have a second thought. But it was me who cried out as the cock pierced my virginity, and me who stared at Dev passed out in the back seat as I sank lower and lower on his dad’s stinging cock. And it was me who, through the tears, began to fuck him, because behind that opening pain was the unbelievable pleasure of being entered, of being full for the first time, and the slick friction of hot skin stretching me, moving into me, sliding inside me.

By the time Mr. Walker’s hands were on my ass, guiding me, I was on the brink of cumming again, the sharpness of my self-deflowering already fading into something so much sweeter than I’d imagined…

In the end, my prom was both worse and impossibly better than I could have planned or wished.

Dad arrived about 15 minutes later, to find me waiting outside the school entrance, pretending to be angry and miserable. Moodily, I put off his consolations and said I’d talk about it tomorrow, while inside I glowed all the way home.

Finally, alone in my room, I undressed completely and looked at myself up and down in my mirror. Now I was a woman. And, yeah, maybe I would be Dev’s woman, if he played his cards right, but he had blown it to some degree. But the boy had potential. If he could grow up to be anything like his father… 

A stared at myself, feeling and watching pearly cum seep out from between my pussy lips and start dripping down my thigh, remembering the sound Mr. Walker had made when he let loose. His hands on my hips had felt inescapable when he’d gripped them so hard – and I saw faint bruises were forming on my reflection where he’d held me. HIs hips had thrust up into me, one last time, a jab more violent and final than anything else to that point. It took my breath away even as I came down from my third orgasm. I’ll never, ever forget the feeling of him cumming in me. The pulse of his cock, the surging feeling inside, the completeness…

He said he’d take care of my torn panties. I’d almost forgotten them. It was ok. It wasn’t the only thing of mine that was his now. As the cum dripped lower, and I slid my hand down over my tummy to slip into the mess between my legs, I knew I had something of his now, too, and always would.

Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong AlphabetTags: , ,

Cassie Andra

Old enough to know better and not care. Vanilla on the outside. Vanilla through and through, except for the mind. You don't want to go there, but I'll give you peeks. Be warned: erotica themes include standard fun, but also the taboo-est of the taboo. Coming of age, infidelity, family relations, dubious and non-consent. Every throbbing inch of it is, however, fantasy, and should be treated as such.


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