Pregnant For My Bully

Amelia Forbes

It was official. Parties just weren’t my thing.

Jason’s party was fun, actually, for people who liked parties, that is, but personally, I couldn’t see the fun in loud noises, people screaming on top of their voices in the name of talking, dirty dancing, drinking too much alcohol and puking thereafter. It just wasn’t my idea of fun.

So, I was already preparing to leave without telling Jason. All I had as my biggest hurdle was sneaking out, which wasn’t so much of a hurdle-seeing the huge crowd present at his party, it was easy to blend in or get lost.

Finding my way home wasn’t going to be much of a problem either-I was good with directions, sorta, and when I was in Jason’s car, I’d done well to note the way around.

I was currently engaged in an uninteresting conversation with a flame haired guy whom I wasn’t sure of his name but was certain he was a senior too. He was hitting on me, and failing miserably at it, judging by his poor choice of pickup lines like, “Are you a lizard? ‘Cause “agama” eyes on you.”

It took all my willpower not to burst out in laughter at the hilarious pickup line, which by the way was viral on the internet, he’d just used now. Instead of laughing, I just nodded with a smile, channeling my thoughts towards escaping from the party.

Just when I’d had enough of the guy, I broke in mid sentence and excused myself, saying I needed to use the bathroom, which, of course, I didn’t want to use.

On passing, I dropped the cup of beer the guy handed me on a nearby table and continued weaving around the throng of people inside the house, not knowing where in particular I was going. That was until, all of a sudden, someone grabbed my hand from behind, causing me to let out a surprised gasp. Stopping to whip around, I saw it was Jason.

“Jason,” I breathed. “You scared me.”

Across his lips was a small, handsome smile. His brown eyes looked a bit drowsy but just the right amount of alert for me to feel comfortable.

After I arrived at the party, Jason, who was supposed to at least help me out with some kind of introduction and getting around, was pulled away from my side by his friends. Of course, I minded but Adrian-very surprised to see me at the party-kept me company until he too was pulled off. That was when I began my uninteresting conversation with Mr Flame Hair.

“Sorry,” Jason said, dropping my hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” I murmured.

“So, um, some friends and I are playing a game in the sitting room. Not many are there and the room is soundproof. And I figured you’d like something quieter, so . . .”

“You want me to come join the game?” I asked.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Can you please join us at the game?”

“Um, okay,” I said, unconsciously tucking my hair behind my ear.

He smiled then and held out his hand to me. “Come on. I’ll take you to the sitting room.”

Unlike earlier, when Jason came to my house to pick me up, I didn’t hesitate to take his hand. Reaching out, I wrapped my hand around his at once, welcoming the feel of it, slightly rough, yes, but warm anyway.

He led me past the crowd and down the stairs to a room I had crossed earlier on my way into his house. It was wide, like other rooms at the floor base, but unlike other rooms, it was a free space with nothing but bare walls, white drapes and a few bean bags scattered about.

Every bean bag was occupied except for two at the end of the circular gathering. Jason walked me over to them and took a seat on the first before gesturing the second to me.

“Wait a minute, what the hell is she doing here?”

I knew that voice all too well to not recognize it instantly. My gaze flew to the middle of the gathering only for it to fall on Kimberly, her phone in her hand, staring daggers at me.

“She’s with me,” Jason spoke up, staring at Kimberly. “And she’s staying?”

Kimberly’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Yeah, what?!” Her friend, Malia, on the bean bag beside her, exclaimed.

“You heard me,” Jason said. “She. Stays. And if you don’t like that you can get the fuck out.”

The rude side of Jason had surfaced, but for the first time ever, it wasn’t toward me, but toward Kimberly.

“Is there anyone else who has a problem with Amelia being here?” Jason asked, in a much calm voice now.

I passed a gaze around the small bunch. I could recognize all of them, from Kimberly and her friend Malia to Greg, the team’s goalkeeper, Rory, the basketball team’s captain, Aneeka, a member of the cheerleading squad, Dani, the school’s tomboy and a sub at the lacrosse team.

These were all top notch people. High school celebrities. Realizing this, I began to feel rather awkward among them. What was I even doing here? How could I have let Jason Davenport cajole me to his party and then to a game with the popular click?

Oh boy.

“Good, no one else,” Jason said. “So, are we starting the game or . . .”

“Let’s start with a game of Would You Rather . . .” Dani piped up, dropping her phone beside her on the bean bag.

“Oh, I’ll go first!” Malia sat up straight.

“I brought up the idea, so I’ll go first,” Dani countered.

“But-”

“Just let her be, Malia,” Kimberly interrupted.

“Whatever,” Malia mumbled, relaxing back into the bag.

“I’ll start with . . .” Dani began, looking around the group. “Rory,” she completed.

Rory, a dark skinned guy with a mass of curly dark hair, dark, deep set eyes, sensual pink lips and a fine jawline with a budding goatee, looked up from the phone in his hand.

“Yay,” he intoned, waving his hand, obviously not interested in the game.

“Would you rather,” Dani went on, “jerk off to me or to Kimberly.”

At her words, I almost choked on my breath. I knew it. I just knew this would be the type of stuff discussed, but I was already neck deep in it to back out.

“Kimberly, of course,” Rory answered quickly. “Can’t be jerking off to my fellow man now, can I?”

“Ouuu,” went Greg and Jason, holding a fist to their mouth, snickering.

Dani held up her middle fingers to Rory who just shrugged with a smile.

“Greg,” he began, “would you rather bang Malia or eat pretty little Miss Amelia here.”

Greg, unlike Rory, was Asian, with jet black hair, ear piercings and a cute face. He moved his dark eyes to me at Rory’s question. A smile creeping up his face, he moved his piercing gaze-thank goodness-from me to Malia.

“Malia’s old meat,” he said with a shrug. “So, Amelia.”

Embarrassed, I flushed, looking down at my hands.

“Fuck you, Greg,” Malia frowned. “You’re old meat too, you know.”

Ignoring her statement, Greg went on to ask Aneeka if she’d rather French kiss Dani or Jason-Aneeka was a bisexual.

To his question, Aneeka asked, “Where exactly?”

“Anywhere,” Greg replied.

“Dani.” She told us, passing a coy glance at Dani, who I think was bi too. “Girls sometimes taste better.”

The game went on with more bizarre questions until Jason called an end to it, saying it was getting boring and we’d already used up the interesting questions.

“So, what do you want us to do?” Aneeka asked.

“Something else,” he shrugged.

“Truth or dare!” Greg exclaimed. “Always save the best for last.”

“Truth or dare it is,” Jason concurred immediately.

“So, who goes first?” Kimberly asked, already piped up for the game, unlike during the Would You Rather . . .

When no one came forth, she started. “For this, because I know y’all sneaky bastards, everyone has a minimum of five truths and five dares. And you have to complete all of them.”

“Get on with it already,” Rory said in his usual bored tone.

“I’ll start with you.” Mikayla looked at him. “Truth or dare.”

Rory moved his gaze to her. “Truth.”

“What’s the first dirty thing you’d do if you woke up as a girl?” Kimberly cocked an eyebrow.

“Why, fuck my own pussy,” Rory chuckled. “I always been wondering what it’s like for you girls to do that shit.”

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Your turn, ask someone.”

“Aneeka, truth or dare,” Rory stated.

“Dare,” she replied.

Rory’s lips pulled up in a smirk. “I dare you to come over here and stroke my dick.”

“Ohhh, hard-core,” Greg whooped.

What? I gulped. Stroke his . . . what?

“I’d rather drink,” Aneeka said, and reached for the bottle of beer I was only just noticing on the floor before us.

She took a somewhat long swig before dropping it back on the floor.

“Your loss,” Rory chortled.

“Greg, truth or dare,” Aneeka said.

“Dare,” he told her.

“I dare you to take off ten things on your body, right now,” she smiled, crossing her arms.

By the time Greg was done with his dare, he was left with just his drawers, which was pink by the way.

“All my other ones are in the laundry,” was his defense.

“Kimberly,” he called after he was done dressing back. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” she said.

“You ever been in a threesome?”

“You know the answer to that,” she stared at him.

“Do I, though?” He cocked his eyebrows, smirking.

“Yeah, I have,” she said uninterestedly, “with your sorry ass and Thierry.”

Thierry was on the lacrosse team.

Things were getting more and more intense. My palms began to sweat. What if Kimberly called me next?

As if hearing my thoughts, Kimberly’s gaze flew to me. Slowly, her plump lips stretched wider to form a creepy smile. At that moment, I knew I was done for.

“Jason,” she spoke up, still looking at me. My heart jolted. “Truth or dare.”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“Dare,” Jason said, all too quickly.

Leaning forward, Kimberly said. “I dare you to grab Amelia, French kiss her and suck her titties afterwards.”

I had to stifle the gasp that tended to escape my lips. I was shocked, and was in no way going to let Jason do that.

“No!” I blurted out, just as Jason turned in his bean bag.

“No?” He asked.

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“Then you have to drink,” Kimberly spat.

I wanted, more than anything, to stand up and run, but that would make me look so chicken, so I drank instead and during the game, I was dared a number of times and used in dares, all which I had to decline in exchange for a drink.

Toward the end of the game, I began to feel very lightheaded, and oddly . . . gay. In my belly was an unsettled feeling.

Excusing myself, I stood up and headed out of the room to the bathroom for which I’d been directed to.

Despite my dizziness, I spotted one of the bathrooms, after a few minutes of more directions. Opening the door, I stumbled in and shut it behind me. I stepped up to the mirror and stared at my reflection. My eyes seemed heavy.

Raising my hands up to my face, I slapped my cheeks, only just realizing that I couldn’t feel them. Just as I was registering this fact, the bathroom door creaked open and seconds later, closed with a light click.

Jason was standing behind me.

“Oh,” he said as soon as our gazes met in the mirror. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in this one.”

At once, he turned to leave.

The lingering feeling within me stemming from the moment Kimberly had dared Jason, pushed me to turn around and grab his arm just as he was turning away.

I didn’t know what it was, probably the beer in my system making me bolder and irrational, but the next thing I said was, “Don’t leave.”

Jason stared at me for some seconds before with a smile, he said, “Want us to finish up our dare?”

My lips parted but no words escaped from them. To my surprise and in my drowsy mind, it was what I wanted. I wanted Jason to kiss me. I wanted to know what he tasted like, what his lips felt like, his hands on me. It was a newfound lust for Jason-he was smoking hot after all, and his sudden good nature only enhanced it-fueled on by alcohol.

I guess Jason took my parted lips for a go-ahead, because next thing I knew, he’d put his hands on my waist and pulled me forward, so our bodies were touching. Without hesitation, he covered up the distance between us, his lips pressing against mine, working up a jittery but sweet feeling in my belly. Absently, mind almost completely numb, my hands found their way up to his face, resting on his cheeks.

It was never a slow kiss. It’d started off heated and was progressing into something more, our hands now roaming each other’s bodies. All of a sudden, Jason grabbed my ass and, pushing the paper cup on the counter aside, lifted me onto the counter.

The moment he kissed my neck, I felt an odd tinge in my core. I was a neck person. Clearly, I was because the more he trailed kisses down my cheek, the more I grew hotter, and more irrational. I’d already thrown all caution to the window, wanting Jason to take me there and then.

It was the alcohol. It was definitely the alcohol or I wouldn’t be doing this.

The next few minutes passed in intense kissing and roaming until I began to feel the chilly air on my skin. Only then did I realize that Jason had unstrapped my jumpsuit and had taken off the shirt underneath.

It shocked me to know that I didn’t care. It was what I wanted. All my body craved for.

His hands caressed my breasts through my lacy bra, sending tingles across my skin, a gasp escaping my lips at his touch. Then, before I realized it, my bra came loose and being a sleeveless one, fell to the floor in a second.

“Now, for the second part,” he murmured, cupping my breast.

His fingers met my nipple, hard, taut and raw, and on the first tweak, I let out a gasp. Caressing my right breast, he cupped the other, leaning down to kiss its cleavage. Then slowly, his lips made their way to its nipple. He kissed it tenderly, blew a breath on it, which sent aroused spikes up my thighs, before flicking a tongue over it, his other hand all the while still caressing my right breast.

At every flick of his tongue over my tight nipple, I let out a gasp, my body shaking with need.

The last thing I remembered from the night was Jason’s fingers making their way down my jumpsuit to my already wet center.