The Rebound

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I pretended to sip from my red solo cup as I watched the other, more sociable party-goers from the most inconspicuous corner I could find. The plan: pretend to have fun, make sure Alison (my best friend, who had demanded I come out for “just a little while”) didn’t get too blitzed to make it home safely, and make a quiet retreat.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Alison would need my nanny services for the night, which wasn’t unusual, although it did put a damper on my plans to GTFO as quickly as possible. As my eyes surveyed the room, I saw at least three guys eyeing her, perhaps without ill intent, but she had thrown back enough drinks to make me cautious about leaving her in the care of our other intoxicated acquaintances. My scan of the space also caught the gaze of an unfamiliar face, a woman around my age with dark hair who looked away as quickly as our eyes met.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to–yet again–check the time. 10:46. Late enough for me to desperately miss the comfort of my empty bed, but not late enough to successfully petition Alison to leave. To be fair, I couldn’t be mad at her for wanting to have a good time, and she really did believe that a night out would boost my spirits.

It had been four days since my boyfriend of three years decided that he wanted to “experiment” and “enjoy the college experience.” I had only found out two days after the breakup that Will had already begun that era of experimentation well before he decided that he should break things off with me. Alison, in her normal brash fashion, had suggested coming to her friend’s party (who I didn’t know) to have a little fun–and possibly find a disposable rebound partner. As if that was going to happen.

As nice as it felt to have a friend willing to push me out of my shell, I was still feeling hurt and wanted nothing more than to sink into another thirteen-hour sleep session. I had passed the phase of endless tears, but my chest was still tight and my brain felt numb. The rational part of my brain knew that the world was not at an end, even if the majority of my mind was consumed by all my shortcomings and anxiety of whether I would ever find love again. There was no reason to believe that no one else would ever want me; I knew that I was reasonably attractive. I have long blonde hair, blue eyes, and am around 5’7″ with a decent figure (even if I feel that I could lose a few pounds). There would be plenty of opportunities to date–and maybe even find love and happiness and all the other bullshit that we’re all supposed to be looking for.

“Jane,” Alison shouted over the music as she entered the sanctity of my corner, dragging a tall, sandy-haired man wearing a shirt with Greek letters toward me. “Jane, Jane, Jane!”

“I can hear you.”

As she approached, she let go of Frat Boy and, wobbly, put a hand on each of my shoulders. “I love you, Jane.”

Oh, boy.

“I love you, too. I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“This is Jason,” she said, pointing not quite directly at the guy she had hauled over, who corrected her.

“It’s Jeff, actually.”

A giggle escaped my best friend’s lips as she clumsily brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh no!”

He shrugged. “No worries.”

“You guys stay here,” Alison commanded. “I’ll be back.”

Before I could stammer out an excuse, she had vanished, leaving a palpably awkward silence in her wake.

Jeff seemed to be at as much of a loss as I was to fill the silence. He shuffled awkwardly, searching for a conversation starter. Finally he spoke, “So…Alison says that you broke up with your boyfriend.”

Mortified, I buried my face in my hand, hoping that the earth would swallow me whole.

He hurriedly followed, “I-I’m sorry. That was a…really stupid way to start a conversation.” I didn’t answer. After a brief pause, apparently still needing to fill the silence, he added, “I’m not good at making small talk.”

“It’s okay.” We stood in silence for several long moments. “It was the other way around.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t break up with my boyfriend; he broke up with me.”

“Oh. Well, he sounds like a douche.”

A small exhale of a laugh escaped me, prompting a “Hm?” from Jeff.

“It’s just funny to me because you don’t know me, and you don’t know my boy–ex-boyfriend, but he sounds like a douche.” He rushed into an apology, but I cut him off. “No, no. He was a douche. It was just funny.”

I shrugged, trying to establish a telepathic link between myself and Alison so that I could mentally scream at her for leaving my with a stranger I had no desire to make conversation with. However, she was busy socializing with a group of girls that I vaguely recognized from a theatre appreciation class I had taken the previous spring semester.

“She seems nice,” said Jeff, apparently having witnessed me glaring at my friend.

“She is…usually.” I tried to think of something even mildly interesting to say but instead asked, despite my lack of interest, “Which frat do you belong to?”

“Alpha Gamma Delta.”

I didn’t have a follow-up, and he didn’t seem to have anything to add, so I ankara escort excused myself to find a restroom, to which he said, “I think there’s one a little ways down that hall.”

Sure enough, the first door on the right led to a small half bath. I relieved myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand back up to rejoin the party. I’m not sure how much time passed before the doorknob rattled, followed by a sharp knock.

“Just a minute!”

I flushed, washed my hands, and adjusted my eyeliner that had started to run. Had I been crying? When I opened the door, I saw the dark haired girl whose gaze I had caught before. Up close, I noticed that she was much prettier than I had originally noticed–virtually flawless. She was slightly shorter than me with an enviable hourglass figure clad in jeans and a button-up blouse. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, and her tanned skin seemed to indicate either Native or Latin American descent (I would much later learn that she had heritage from both groups).

She smiled at me as she brushed past me, and I returned it sheepishly. My face flushed as I realized that I had been staring at her. Although I had no intention of becoming friends with her, I chided myself for being an idiot.

As I returned to living room, I noticed that Alison was now chatting away with one of the guys who I had witnessed checking her out earlier. I bristled at how close he stood to her. Inhibitions eradicated, she was blissfully unaware of his eyes focusing everywhere but her face. She chattered on about something or other that he clearly wasn’t listening to. I pulled her away by the arm, making empty apologies to the guy.

“I’m ready to go home,” I told her when we were out of earshot.

“But Jaaaane…”

“I know, but I’m not feeling it.”

“But didn’t you like Jason?”

“Jeff.”

“Yeah…he’s cute.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You should hit that.”

“I don’t know…”

“Look,” she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Paul should be here in a half hour or so. He can give me a ride, so you can head home.”

It was a relief that her boyfriend would be coming to watch over her, but I didn’t quite feel comfortable leaving her here with that guy making no secret of his lust for her.

“I’ll stay until he gets here. Then I’m leaving.”

She seemed content with my answer, and she was soon off again, the social butterfly fluttering about. My mind flooded with disappointment as I noticed Jeff heading my way.

“Hey,” he said, presenting two cans of soda. “You didn’t seem to keen on whatever was in your cup earlier, so I snagged a couple of these bad boys from the fridge. Pepsi or ginger ale?”

His observation–and the fact that he wasn’t heckling me for not drinking, as some would–was touching in a way. Weighing my options, I pointed to the ginger ale.

“Are you sure it’s okay? I mean, whoever owns the house won’t mind?”

Jeff shrugged as he popped open the rejected can of Pepsi. “I know Mara pretty well. She won’t care.”

Against my better judgement, I was starting to warm up to this guy. As his eyes turned to me, I felt a blush rising from my chest. I decided to learn more about our hostess.

“Mara?”

“Yeah, she owns the place. Well, technically, I guess you could say that her parents do. She likes her privacy, so instead of paying rent on an apartment, they just bought her a house.”

“Her parents bought her a house?!” The home wasn’t a mansion by any means, but it was homey and well furnished. Anyway, it made my dorm look like a dump, which wasn’t far from the truth.

“I know.” He grinned an adorably lopsided smile as he shook his head. “They’re loaded, but Mara is surprisingly well-adjusted. She’s super nice, not spoiled at all. How do you know her?”

“I don’t,” I admitted. “Alison–my friend–does though, and…well…here I am. Which one is she?”

His eyes searched the room. “There she is,” he said as he pointed to the dark haired chick whom I had briefly passed leaving the bathroom. She was talking to a small Asian girl who gestured wildly as she relayed a humorous tale, judging by Mara’s laughter. My heart jumped as I watched her full lips curving into a radiant smile. God, I wished I could be that beautiful. Out of nowhere, her eyes shifted to where Jeff and I were standing. Her eyes flashed with recognition, and she waved at us. Well, actually I’m pretty sure that she was waving at him, but I didn’t realize that until after I had waved.

“Jeff!”

An African-American guy with glasses and a Batman t-shirt gestured for him to join himself and two others. Exchanging a glance with me, Jeff shrugged and reluctantly left. Before I knew what was happening, a soft voice said, “Hi.”

Mara had apparated to my left. I stammered stupidly for a second, finally pulling it together to compliment her gathering. “Great party.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t seem to believe me, but she didn’t prod me any further.

I couldn’t think of anything worth saying, but, for some reason, I didn’t want her to leave, so I ventured, “What’s the occasion?”

“Well, ankara escort bayan you know, finals are in a couple weeks. I get kind of bogged down around this time of the semester, so I figured everyone could use a morale boost.”

I nodded, conversationalism escaping me.

“You seem a little low on morale yourself.”

“Oh.” I knew that I wasn’t really making a convincing case for my gaiety, by I wasn’t aiming to sulk about pooping on everyone else’s party. “I–It’s just–”

She tilted her head, neither prying nor interrupting.

“I got dumped.”

She rested a perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I guess? I mean, I don’t really miss him, but it stings a bit. Y’know?”

She nodded and then suddenly asked, “Do you want a tour?”

I was taken aback. “Of your house?”

“Of course! We can get away from it all for a minute.”

As she spoke, I noticed Alison’s boyfriend Paul entering from the front hallway. He nodded at me briefly before his eyes landed on Alison. Free to leave at last, I weighed my options.

“Sure. Lead the way.”

She grabbed my hand, which I didn’t find all that necessary. “So you’ve seen the living room area and kitchen.”

I hadn’t actually been into the kitchen, but I could see it from the area of the living room that I was standing in. She pulled me to the hallway with the half bathroom.

“You saw the downstairs bathroom.”

She opened a door on the left side of the hallway, slightly farther down than the bathroom door.

“This is my office-slash-studio area.”

The door opened into a decently big room with wood floor and a large bay window that looked out over the back yard. A desk with a laptop and some books stood in one corner. In the other corner, near the window, were two comfy-looking armchairs and a footstool. On the wall by the door was a tremendous bookshelf lined with a miniature library. Titles by Dickens, Plath, Du Bois, and unfamiliar names were arranged neatly. Near the window, on the opposite side of the chairs, was an easel standing on an old, paint-splattered sheet, and the walls were covered with framed landscapes and portraits, one of which caught my attention. Draped across one of the armchairs was Jeff’s naked form.

A gasp escaped me, and Mara, seeing the portrait that had caught my gaze, let out a small laugh. “So I guess you recognize him?”

I nodded. “Are you…?”

“Together? Not really. We have been, but it’s more of a no-strings kind of thing.”

My ears burned as I searched for something–anything–to change the subject to. “Sooo…how long have you been painting?”

“Um, since around middle school. I originally planned to major in it, but I ended up switching to history. I try to make a little time for it on the weekends. Shall we move onto the upstairs?”

“Oh, uh…sure.”

I followed her into the hallway, carefully latching the door behind me. At the very end of the hall was a wooden staircase. I found myself admiring Mara’s curves as she climbed the stairs ahead of me, wondering yet again how anyone could have it all: money, talent, beauty.

At the top of the staircase was a door, which she opened, revealing a huge bedroom with a large mahogany bureau, a television of at least 70 inches mounted on the same wall that the door was on, and green loveseat. In the middle of the room was a queen-sized bed with a snowy white duvet.

“This is the master bedroom.” Obviously. She strode across the room to open another door, “And this is the main bathroom.” I peered inside to see a bathtub that looked like it could fit at least four people and a countertop that was littered with cosmetics. Mara, meanwhile, had retired to the loveseat, where I joined her after closing the bathroom door. “And that’s about it.”

“You have a nice house,” I offered.

To my surprise, the conversation flowed freely as we sat together, removed from the rest of the party. We talked about our majors (hers history, mine biology), our interests, and, much to my surprise, my recent break-up. She listened sympathetically as I recounted how Will and I had grown apart after graduation and how had I learned from a mutual friend about the girls he had slept with while we were still together. I learned that we had similar tastes in literature, both being obsessed with Shakespeare and Dickinson, and that, despite their enormous wealth, she did not have a good relationship with her parents.

What felt like minutes, but was really over an hour, passed, and, looking at the late hour on her bedside alarm clock, Mara reluctantly asked, “Should we get back?”

I found myself unable to stand. Our bodies were so close, and she smelled so good–like coconut. Before I could stop myself, I found myself leaning into her and planting a soft kiss on her delicious mouth.

Alarm bells sounded in my head, as I choked out an apology. “I–I’m not—I didn’t mean to-”

Before I could finish, her mouth was devouring mine. She flung her arms around my neck, and mine found her waist. Her mouth tasted like mint. She stroked my face as my hands escort ankara wandered under her shirt and up her back, relishing in the smoothness of her skin. As I toyed with her bra straps, she suddenly moved her hand down to cup my breast. I moaned into her mouth as I unhooked her bra.

“Take your shirt off,” she whispered, and I complied. When I had finished, I found that she had already removed both shirt and bra, revealing soft full breasts topped with dusky pink nipples, which I wasted no time taking into my mouth.

She gasped as my tongue traced her right nipple, and her hands impatiently wrestled with my bra hooks. I reluctantly released her breast to take it off, but before I could return she had pounced me and was planting hungry kisses over my D-cup chest. Taking her by the chin, I pulled her mouth back up to mine and somehow was able to breathlessly ask whether we should move to the bed, to which she agreed.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and she came to me, standing between my legs while kissing me. She pushed me backward and straddled me, kissing my neck as I gasped for air. Her mouth worked its way further down my body, nibbling first my ribs and then my hips. As her fingers gripped the waistband of my leggings, her eyes watched my face for hesitation. Impatient, I pulled the leggings down myself, which she then pulled the rest of the way down my legs and over my feet, leaving me clad in nothing but a light blue thong.

She planted kisses on the inside of my thighs, which drove me wild. My pussy was on fire, and I wanted nothing more than to feel her tongue inside of me. She finally planted on tender kiss on the outside of my underwear. My hips moved back and forth on their own accord as she teased me. Instead of continuing, she went back to kissing my thighs.

“Mara, please,” I moaned.

She bit her lip. God, she was sexy. Finally, she moved my panties to the side, revealing my burning sex. I wished that I had had the foresight to shave, but I hadn’t intended anything like this happening. A wispy layer of hair covered my vagina, but she didn’t seem to care. Her tongue circled my clit, and my hips jerked as though she had shocked me. A strangled “Fuck!” escaped my lips as gently sucked on my button. I then felt first one, and then two fingers, enter my sopping pussy, and without warning, my walls convulsed around her with the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. The whole experience couldn’t have lasted more than a minute.

Although my heart was still racing, I had to taste her. I pushed her onto her back and wasted no time removing both her jeans and her underwear in one go. My hands, reaching under her, gripped the firm globes of her ass as I buried my face between her legs. Her moans were music to my ears as I ran my tongue over her hairless mound.

I was barely aware of a small knock on the door before it opened and Jeff’s voice spoke, “Mara, you up for–Oh my god! I am so sorry!”

Mara and I exchanged a glance as he left, and I sprang to the door. He was about halfway down the staircase when I called his name. Although understandably surprised, when I motioned for him to come back, he didn’t argue.

Once inside, I pointed to the loveseat. “I have to repay a favor, and then you can join us,” I said with a wink. He wordlessly sat down as I rejoined Mara on the bed.

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer, instead running my tongue once across her clit, which elicited a moan from her sweet lips. I sucked it into my mouth, which caused her to squirm, but I held her hips firmly in place. Her juices pooled around my chin, and I lapped at them like someone who hadn’t had a drink in days. My tongue entered her hole, and she tightened her legs around my head.

“Ooh, fuck,” she groaned.

Motion in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned to see that Jeff had pulled an impressingly big cock out of his pants and was stroking it as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. As much as I wanted to watch his hand in its ministrations, I had work to do. I slipped one finger into Mara as I sucked her clit. She gripped me tightly but was so wet that a second finger was easily added, and then a third. My left hand remained on her pelvis attempting, not entirely successfully, to still her thrashing hips.

“Mm, yeah, yeah,” she cooed, and, after several more minutes of my tongue and hand movements, she cried out, “Oh, God! I’m coming!”

I removed my fingers and licked her with everything I had. When her hips stopped moving, I removed my mouth and made my way up her body. Her face aglow, she pulled me into her and began kissing me in earnest, undoubtedly tasting herself on me.

A small cough from the couch reminded us that we weren’t alone, and we exchanged a devilish grin as we stood and made our way over to the couch. We surrounded him–she sat on the right arm of the couch while I sat on the cushion to his left. I leaned in for a deep, lingering kiss as her mouth made a trail down the side of his neck, and then we switched. He moaned into her mouth as nibbled his earlobes. His hands roamed all over our bodies as he alternated between us. Somehow, knowing that his attention divided, that he was as focused on her body as he was on mine, didn’t make me jealous in the slightest. In fact, it turned me on even more, and I couldn’t wait to have my mouth and hands on her again.

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