The Adventures of Dennis Part 2

The Adventures of Dennis Part 2

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica



In which Dennis finds it necessary to fix a couch and his attempts do not go so well.



In which Dennis finds it necessary to fix a couch and his attempts do not go so well.


Submitted: April 15, 2014

A A A | A A A


Submitted: April 15, 2014



I was ridiculed in school at one point. When I was between the ages of ten and 14, this was the norm. It hasn’t happened for a while because I don’t let anybody fuck with me these days. One of the ways to do that, I figure, is to get jacked.

This was why I went, pretty regularly, to the local gym (not the one at school) and lifted the forty-pound weights. On the day I’m thinking of, I left the gym at 4:00 and spit on the trainer’s shoe on the way out the door just to make the point that I didn’t give a shit about his rules that he’d yelled at me for breaking the previous week. (I’d been trying to juggle 10-pound weights. I failed and made a lot of noise. It was still fun). I felt sufficiently sweaty to jump in the pool at the gym (even though I didn’t have a pool license, haha, whatever), before getting back to my dorm and lying on my bed while two fans blew on me. I listened to Bob Marley and flipped through an old issue of Penthouse. I had a party to go to later that night.

This part happened in my buddy Holt’s cramped dorm room. It was supposed to be a cocktail party with Martinis and shit. By the time I arrived, it was just drinking. At least there was a very even mixture of X and Y chromosomes. I downed seven shots and took it upon myself to find the cutest, most artificial looking girl in the room. The gym had just pumped me up for the rest of the day. I felt like I should do something crazy that night.

I walked up to this chick in shorts so tight they must have been cutting off circulation to her legs. She wore a white tank top that glittered enough for her to shine her creed—I’m cute, bang me—to each corner of the room. I got closer and I could see she had some red, glittery makeup on her face also.

 “Hi,” I said. “Are you from the Mickey Mouse club?”

She looked confused.

I said; “Or maybe you’re one of the Dreamgirls?”

She said; “What?”

“You rock grrrrrrrl.” I kind of cocked my head as I said it.

She looked around at her friends who shook their heads. One got up and left somewhere.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Dennis,” I said.

“Sarissa,” she said extending her hand limply. “Nice to meet you.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.” I took her hand and kissed it. She giggled. She asked me what year I was. I told her I was a professor. For the next few minutes she believed me. Wow. Low intellect. This was perfect.


Her eyes shone in the brown light of another tequila.

I sucked on her cheek and realized the glitter was actually perfume.

I felt her hand wrap around mine while I slurred something to Holt and I was tugged away.


The next thing you know--

I was on top of her, my cock in her pussy, in the common area of my dorm, on the large leather couch they had there, because my roommate was also getting laid that night and had gotten home first. Doing it on the couch was her idea. Sarissa’s legs folded around my waist. It had felt like hours, but I’d gotten her shorts off, so I assume enough feeling had returned to her legs to feel her thighs against my abs.

I’d been rocking very gently. This was just my psych-out exercise: make her think that you’re a slow, soft fuck, then once she’s convinced make her realize that you’re not. She kept her gaze on me expectantly and sighed slowly. I was about to speed up when she grabbed my shoulders with both hands and flipped me over. I mean all the way over, as if I was on a tilt-a-whirl. She was on top of me now, in the cowgirl position. My cock fell out of her and I felt the musty air of the dorm against it. It was only when I felt my erect Johnson peeling through the air for those few moments that I became aware that woah, no condom. I quickly stopped caring. I hadn’t raw-dogged a girl since high school prom night, about six months before. Then I felt her hand, then I was inside her again.

Peering down at me, she said; “Fuck me harder and faster than you’ve ever fucked anybody.”

I gave her my stare. I took her by the hips and levered her body up and down. I was surprised by how agile her teeny-bopper legs were. They slapped the surface of the couch and fanned against my thighs in spasmodic clenches. The Disney channel just got nasty, folks.

She began panting and spoke between breaths;

“Yell my name when you’re cumming.”

“Only if you yell mine, “ I said.

She bent over further and her hair flew in front of her face.

“Tell me that you love my pussy.”

“Vaginas give me nightmares.”

Keep in mind that among the other things I did not give a shit about at that time were:

  1. Everybody in the dorm hearing us.
  2. Nutting inside her.
  3. Busting the couch.


I bounced her up and down hard and faster. My hands started slipping upward on her body until I was fondling her tits from either side, as if giving her a breast exam while banging her. She gasped as if she had been holding her breath underwater. I brought one hand up to her face and ran it over her lips. She pushed my hand in to her mouth and sucked my fingers. It was an interesting dichotomy: two layers of wetness pumping against my cock; two smaller layers of wetness pulling back on my fingers.

She took my fingers out and looking up, her voice folded in a moan, said “Aaaah, baby, Aaaaahhh, let’s not break this couch.”

I thought; Um yeah, actually, let’s do just that. She moans sounded calculated. They got a decibel louder and a half second longer each time. She was gradually tilting her head up to the ceiling, as my hands and her legs worked together to jerk her body up and down.

At that point the awkward kid in my dorm, Simon, poked his head out from his door. This was as Sarissa was making loud noises through clenched teeth, holding back the moment. I craned my head back and said; “Simon, go fuck yourself.” He scurried back in to his room and slammed his door.

His door slam seemed to coincide with Sarissa’s final battle moments. She tilted her head to the light, swore loudly, buckled her knees around my sides and gasped; “Baby.”

I shot off inside her at that moment and cried; “Sarissa!” because I’m a caring guy who remembers the names of bimbos I bang on dorm lounge couches. Speaking of which, I was pretty intent on breaking the couch. I started literally flopping my body up and down. I thought Sarissa was going to be like what the fuck, but she started screaming out round two of her orgasm, which I was sure was going to wake up the entire dorm. She rubbed a hand over my face so I couldn’t see a blessed thing. I put a hand up to her face and put it over her mouth. I barked at her to be quiet. Her mouth was opened enough so that my fingers brushed across her teeth. At that point, my ass flopped on to the edge of the cushion, which was sliding off the couch ,and the spring frame caved in. My body folded over and I bumped my head in to the arm rest. Sarissa sprang off me and jerked over the side of the arm rest, facing the ugly carpet. I stared up in to the curves of her small, dangling boobs. She tried sitting down and her damp pussy grazed my chest. Embarrassed, she lifted herself back up and kept squatting while she caught her breath. I may have dripped on the cushions.


A door swung open and a tired, overweight female voice said. “I’m calling the cops! You guys are so disrespectful.”

At that point I knew it was time to bounce.  I rolled off the couch, hit the floor and jumped up. I didn’t bother putting on my clothes, I just scooped them up. Sarissa was still perched on the edge of the collapsed couch when she got really nervous and looked at me, then in the direction of the angry customer.

“Sorry!” she replied, pointlessly. And then; “Oh shit. We weren’t even using a condom. Oh shit.”

I helped her get dressed because she was that paralyzed with fear. I threw on my underwear and pants for good measure, but for whatever reason, just let my shirt dangle over my shoulder. I led her down the hall, soothing her, telling her it’s okay, everything would work out. She yelled at me I didn’t have her body, no I could not fucking tell.

I walked her back to her dorm. It was very awkward. She insisted on getting my number before leaving. I gave it to her. She left very quickly without saying goodbye and I knew better than to not wave to her. I did watch her skimpy bare legs, her shorts looking even shorter and tighter vanishing away from the lamppost and in to the darkness of Craig Hall.

Walking back, this really strange dude in my sociology class, I think his name was Henry, came out of nowhere, all by himself and said, “dude, did you guys just have sex?” I wanted to beach-ball his head off. I said, “No, we were watching Star Trek and eating muffins.”

Walking home, I saw blinking red and blue lights behind me. I booked it. A door slammed and a cop ran behind me. He was pretty fast and I heard him gaining, so I wheeled around and vomited on him. Just chunks of everything I’d drank, held back in my stomach by sex, now finally making it’s delivery. This cop jumped back, absolutely mortified. In the time it took him to gape down at his beautiful blue cop uniform in disbelief, I scrambled away and in to the door of my dorm, slurring at him something about doughnuts as I slammed the door.

I lifted the pieces of the couch and tried fitting them back together. My arms sagged. I thought of how much shit I would be in. I wondered if the school might even expel me (In trouble? Yes. Expelled? No. Transferred to another dorm and made to pay for the damage? Yup.) I dropped the weight of the back half of the couch and lay against the wall, sweating and breathing heavily. I couldn’t lift it. My arms hurt and I felt weak. I was alone, and I chuckled to myself.

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