Feisty Night I is inspired by Dr. Mike’s fanfic, “Late Night Nightmare”

http://www.tdjc.net/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=1259


Feisty Night
by Dervish, janerhynn@hotmail.com


Jane kept on jogging. She soon saw Upchuck, er, Charles, once again as always. She jogged up beside him. “Hey, Charles!” said Jane with actual warmth.

“Hello, my dear!” said Charles with a grin that was partly friendly, partly leer. “Glad to see you greeting the dawn as usual.”

“Yeah,” said Jane matching Charle’s pace. “It’s getting warmer, though. I wish I could jog this path at night, but I don’t like jogging alone when it’s dark.”

“Allow me to escort you, then,” said Charles with a purr that somehow, very oddly, tickled her in places just hearing it.
Jane smiled. He was falling into her sordid web perfectly. “Can you meet me at my house at 8?”

“Anything, for my favorite artiste,” replied Charles gallantly.

And so it was later that night, Charles showed up at Jane’s house.

Charles was surprised by the turn of events, but he wasn’t complaining. He didn’t know what he thought when he knocked and he heard quick feet running to the door. But Jane answered, dressed in what she normally wore. Charles face fell, making the need to comfort him almost overwhelming to Jane.

“Hey, Charles,” said Jane brightly. “Sorry, I’m not ready yet. Would you mind helping me with something, first?”

“Of course,” he said in his trying to be gallant. He walked in past Jane as Jane quickly stepped outside and looked around. Excellent. No witnesses. Jane had something of a leer herself as she walked back in, closing the door to her web, er, house.

Jane lead Charles into the kitchen, where she had some green tea ready to serve.

“Here, Charles,” said Jane, handing him a cup, “This is from the Orient. It’s said to help vitalize the drinker.”

“Thank you,” said Charles, a little surprised by this. He took a sip. It was surprisingly good.

“Come on up, Charles,” said Jane. She got on the stairs and slowed a bit until Charles was at the foot of the stairs. Then she stepped on up, hoping Charles was enjoying the show. Not that she would ever admit to that much. When Charles made it to the top, Jane was waiting by her door. “This way!” she said brightly.

In the room, Charles gazed at several paints and brushes out, right by a clear canvass. “What are you working on, my dear?” asked Charles, genuinely curious.

“I just got inspired. My muse hit. I have to paint right now. But I can use you for a model.”

Charles simply frowned in surprise. She sounded sincere, but a little nervous. Then he surreptitiously pinched himself. Then Jane was pointing at some odd clothes. “These belonged to Wind. But if you could put them on, you’d look like the farm boy I’m thinking of.”

“You mean get out of my clothes, and into those?” Charles was still confused. This simply couldn’t be happening.

“Sure, Charles,” said Jane with a smirk. “And don’t worry about flashing me, I’ve done plenty of nudes before.”

Charles realized he was dancing to her tune, not the other way around. Charles fought a brief urge to run. He liked being the one in control, even if it didn’t get him anywhere. He felt as if he were the one under Jane’s power, instead of the other way around. And for all his dreams of being enslaved by Martian amazons, those dreams were under his control. This
situation wasn’t. Or was it? Charles thought suddenly.

“My dear, those clothes don’t measure up to my standards. How about I pose for you,” he said, then very purringly, “nude.”

“Okay,” said Jane casually. She couldn’t believe how easily she’d lured him into that one. She didn’t even look at him while she got her brushes and paints ready. “I didn’t think you’d be brave enough for that, but since
you are, good deal.”

“Uh, what?” asked Charles. losing his purr.

“Get naked, Charles. You said you would. You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?”

“Perish the thought,” said Charles, but without the bravado he meant to put into his words. He quickly got undressed, suddenly feeling self-conscious, and then got on the bed. He twisted a bit, facing away from Jane.

Jane looked up and said, “Oh, come on Charles. Give me a more interesting pose. I want a smiling, debauched Roman facing me unabashedly.”

Charles tried to speak, but decided against it. He hated it when his voice squeaked. He turned, brought his top leg up and down so that his genitals were mostly covered. He pasted a smile on his face, but he was suddenly shy.

Jane walked to where her left his tea and brought it to him. He tensed as she approached. “Here,” she said so damn casually, “Hold this as if it were a Roman brew.”

“Eeep!” This was from Charles as Jane rearranged his leg for him. She made other minor adjustments to his posture.

“Okay,” she said. “I think we’re ready to begin.”

Charles took a drink and tried to stop the minor shakes going through him.

Jane eyed him like a hawk as she began her paints. She sensed he was a nervous wreck, much more of one than she was. This almost made her laugh, but she restrained it. She was too close to netting her prey. She was also hoping he would relax some. Men. For all their bravado, they always seemed to need encouragement. Then, when you actually got them in bed, they sometimes needed you to be their personal cheerleader, or they couldn’t get it up at all.

“You’re a hottie, Charles. You have an awesome body. I’m surprised you don’t have a girlfriend.” Excellent. Charles was starting to relax. He even smiled, if only a little. For an added kick, she opened her suicide oil jar. The fumes from that had a way of effecting people.

“I’m too much of a man for most girls to handle,” he said wagging his brows, gaining just a bit of his purr back.

“It’s not an act, the purring and innuendo, is it?” asked Jane. “Just to keep girls away, because you like something more...unusual?”

“Nay, perish the thought,” said Charles, a little peevishly. Well, before she went any further, she did have to ask.

“Okay, Charles,” said Jane bracing herself, “I really need you as a debauched Roman senator now. Leer.” She intentionally ran her tongue over her lips, trying to make it look as though she were concentrating.

“Like this, my dear?” Charles was starting to get into this.

“Hmmmm..... no,” said Jane. She walked up to Charles, who kept a bit of a smile taped onto his face, but seemed to wonder what was going to happen next. Jane had to admit, she really did go for the sweet boy look, as long as they knew how to be bad when (and preferably only when) no one was looking. She was also enjoying having so much control in this situation.
There wasn’t a lot of that in her life, but there was this, right now, and she savored it with relish.

She smoothed out his hair, relaxing him some more, and then started kissing at his lips. He tensed at first, but then relaxed into the kiss, and soon Jane and Charles were locked into a passionate kiss.

Charles pulled Jane forward onto him, and soon she was on top of him. Funny, Jane thought, he did sort of look like a debauched Roman senator...or the senator’s son. The Romans were, after all, in much better shape than the poor excuses for debauched American Senators. She let herself get lost in a fantasy of controlling a city, nay an empire, by controlling one of the Senate members. Or maybe of seducing a Senator’s son into her wiles, helpless before her. Yes, it was cheesy, but so what. Sometimes, like right now, it got her hot.

Charles was helping her out of her shirts. She had no bra on underneath. (All the better to keep him from fumbling with it.) He cupped and felt her breasts nicely. She guided one of his hands with pressure and movement, and he learned quickly.

He kissed her neck, trying to pull her up. She let him. The pressure was nice. She guided his hands down to her hips. She let herself savor the moment. But he was getting frustrated with her shorts.

She was merciful, and dealt with the rest of her clothes, leaving only her panties on. He mustn’t enter her. She wasn’t ready for that, and she wanted to remind him, without words (very important for their egos), that she was the one calling the shots here. Besides, guys like Charles tended to be a little too desperate and a little too... fast, the first time. She fondled him, and let him fondle her.

Everything was coming in crystal clear to Jane now. She felt totally alive. And Charles had the most dexterous fingers. She couldn’t help it--she moaned, just a little. She looked at Charles with new eyes as she saw the magnificence within him finally shining through. Prodded by her moaning, he was growing bolder, firmer, and more driven.

She enjoyed his roundness, his smell, his blue-gray eyes boring into hers and embracing every inch of her body along with his hands, while she played with his body, focusing on his penis (which was gloriously neither too big or too small for her, which would cut out a lot of extra work later), watching his eyes and face, listening to his sounds, discovering what Charles liked and responded too. He was firmly in her web. Time to make him know it.

His breath came in huge gasps. His face had that look as if in utter shock, surprise, and amazement all wrapped up in one. He tried to stifle his repeated moans and gasps, and only partially succeeded. He lay there covered in sweat, breathing hard, while Jane cleaned him and herself off with a damp rag.

“My dear,” he gasped apologetically, “I....”

“Shhh, Charles,” said Jane. They tended to do this. “That was your freebie. You’re gonna work for the rest of them.”

Charles looked into Jane’s eyes to measure her intentions, feelings, anything. He was finding her a little scary. But he grinned, and purred, “But, of course, my dear.”

“Come on,” she said, getting off the bed and pulling his arms.

“What is it?” said Charles, wrinkling his brows.

“We both need a shower. We’ll take one together.”

“But, my dear, I’m not quite ready....”

“Of course you aren’t,” said Jane, trying to remain patient with her fly. “This is about getting clean.... and getting ready.”

Charles let himself get dragged into the bathroom. He glanced around nervously on the trip there, fearful of others seeing them in their nakedness. Jane’s confidence comforted him, but only a little. He still had images of his being forced to marry Jane with Jane’s dad (a huge hillbilly with missing teeth and a track sheet of violent crimes in his mind’s eye) holding a shotgun at him.

The water surprised him at its intensity. Jane was quite business like in cleaning them both up. He was a bit intimidated by her obvious experience.... experience he never guessed at.

“So, my dear,” Charles purred, “How many other lucky men have you had in your life?”

That was forbidden territory. But Jane gave him a little. “Just a few I met at the Zen. Not many, but I learned what I needed, too, didn’t I?”

“You sure did, my dear,” said Charles, sounding a little more like his usual self. They got out and towelled off.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” asked Charles, “Or is your pubic hair in the shape of a heart?”

Jane laughed. He hadn’t noticed that earlier? She was proud of the topnotch job she did herself, but never had been able to brag about it before.

“That’s a genuine wild heart. Did it myself. Landing strips and trim triangles are boring. I did a Brazilian, the all gone kind, once, but despite the hype, I didn’t find it made sex, or feeling sexy, any better. It just felt strange, looked too weird in the mirror, and I just like feeling the hair gently pulled and rubbed as a consequence of sex.”

“ROWRRR! So how do you do it?”

“What you want details so you can do it yourself?” Jane laughed. He seemed really interested, so she told him. “Heck, a Gillette Mach 3 is all I need as long as I’m regular about it, though there’s plenty of stuff on the market that helps, when I can afford it. Just gotta be careful with the Tend Skin and stuff around certain.... areas.”

Charles shook as if Jane were getting too detailed, so Jane quit telling him. He went back down to examining her “So your hair isn’t naturally black, is it, my dear?”

He said that with some genuine affection, Jane mused. She decided to be honest. “No, it’s blonde, but I got sick of the blonde jokes.”

Besides, Jane silently thought, Summer and her mom (not to mention Wind) were blonde, and that was reason enough to change her hair color. Since she liked Trent’s hair, she chose to imitate his color. Hopefully, Jane darkly mused, it would help Jane and Trent wind up better off than Wind, Summer, and their mom.

“Like Brittany?” Charles laughed, bringing Jane back to where she was. He gulped as Jane glared fiercely at him. “Shouldn’t your ‘wild heart’ be blonde, then?” he continued a little nervously.

“No. I notice your pubes aren’t as red as your carrot top.” Charles blinked at her. “Here, look at my eyebrows” said Jane, guiding Charle’s head to look at her brows. He seemed to understand. Body hair was a bit different from the hair on your head. Jane even knew a guy with brown hair, a reddish beard, and black body hair, all natural.  Then there were those few who colored their body hair, too, but she wasn't about to go there.

One thing Jane liked about him was that he was unusually intelligent for a Lawndalian, both in knowing and in understanding stuff. And in learning stuff. He was almost like Daria. He was just obsessed with females of all persuasions and allowed his desperation to show through too much, which was about the exact opposite of Daria, who barely felt any heat for guys at
all.

“So what do the other girls at Lawndale High think?”

Jane laughed. Guys weren’t the only ones who could be silly. “Most don’t look, at least not directly. And then they don’t say anything. Wouldn’t want to be considered lesbian for looking.” That was true of a surprising number, though most knew to mind their own business, unless they really liked something... and even then, they were scared it might be misconstrued, if
they didn’t hold such fears about themselves and/or their own image. Her mom even talked about women that wouldn’t go into a sauna for fear of being molested by lesbians! Jane shook her head. That’s one reason why she preferred the art colonies. They were less hung up about all that stuff. Course, you COULD be molested by lesbians and bisexuals there, Jane mused offhandedly.

“So,” said Jane smiling, remembering some of the things she heard about guys, “How many coat hangers you hang on your penis?”

“Huh?” Charles seemed stunned.

“Isn’t that what you guys do in the locker rooms, or at least each other’s bedrooms?” Jane teased.

Charles laughed--a genuine laugh. Jane decided she liked it. She liked him. She slipped in close to him. “I bet you’d get a lot of hangers,” she said to bolster his pride.

“Rowrrr!” he replied. Oh, this was silly, but she thought that was incredibly cute. Too bad he did that in public a lot. On the other hand, his obsessions were part of the beauty of this. No one would believe him if he told what went on here. Which is why he was the only guy from Lawndale High to ever experience Jane in this way.

“Come on,” said Jane, “Back to my room.” Charles waggled his brows and raced ahead of her. Jane ran to keep up. No way Charles was going to outrun her, Jane thought. They crashed through the door, laughing, in something of a tie.

They finally settled on the bed together, naked, arguing over who made it through the door first.

“My dear,” said Charles with a tone of authority in his voice, “I had my arm through before you got in, so technically, I win.”

Jane nudged him. “If you had been looking down, Upchuck, you’d seen I had my leg through first!”

Charles seemed to blink at Upchuck, and Jane suddenly felt bad for using the term thoughtlessly. She bet she knew a cure for that.

“Hey, Charles,” said Jane, “I bet I know something you don’t know.” Charles looked at her wonderingly. “Men have sensitive chests, too.” Jane started kissing his chest. Charles let her, smiling amused. Then Jane grabbed hold of his left nipple and sucked hard. Charles gasped. He also felt himself starting to get hard again, if slowly.

“Told’ya,” muttered Jane. She played with his chest and nipples a little more, before running a chaotic trip down, down, down to the key that held Charles enthralled to her... and maybe she to him, she briefly allowed herself.

Fondling his penis, she straightened it a little (what little it needed) and licked the little V on the bottom of the head of his penis. She then swirled her tongue around the head. Charles gasped as he regained full hardness, and Jane took to a more pronounced exploration with her mouth and fingers, finding out the spots most sensitive to him.

“Your turn,” she said. She let him trade places, and helped Charles learned what he needed too. He gently caressed the sides of her clit before he, very gently, sucked. Jane gasped, and let him explore other parts, as she let the excitement in her build.

Jane briefly thought of them getting their tongues pierced together for more.....

“Enough,” she said huskily, as he looked up at her questioningly. Jane reached under the bed and pulled out a bowl with a handful of condoms in them. She concentrated on getting one out, pinching the tip as she rolled it onto him. She then pushed him down, letting him feel her animal desires electrifying her body in her gaze and her grip, as she climbed atop of him, guiding him into her.

She started slow, but as the heat built even higher, so did her speed. She reached behind her, playing with his balls and below, when she had to quit for she was allowing herself to lose any pretense of control. Her hand now rubbed at her clit as she continued to ride him as the feel of their breaking sweat, the intoxicating smell of him, the feel of his shaft inside her began to truly overwhelm her.

Jane now held him close, and Charles rolled them until he was on top, now pumping away, his balls now slapping against her butt as he slid into her, her legs curled and wrapped around him, and she was crying away. Just to remind him that she held the keys to his ecstasy, she clenched her muscles, driving Charles even wilder. Yes, Jane thought to herself, he was on
top, but SHE was the one pulling his strings.

But Charles was ravishing her now, no longer following her lead, but tapping into some part of his nature that even he didn’t fully realize he had. But he was aware of it now, he WAS that nature now, and he squeezed and thrust hard and rough as Jane began shrieking and whooping, clawing at his back with one hand while reaching up as if to grab something (Jane had no idea what it was, but the need to reach whatever it was overwhelmed her) with the other, before bringing both hands down to pull him closer.

Whatever delusion Jane had of being completely in control was gone now as her sense of time and space began melting away, giving way to these primal sensations electrifying her entire body, a primal urge that was in control of both of them equally.  Charles began speaking out loud of you know you want it while Jane demanded more, more, more goddammit as she clenched her vaginal muscles against him, squeezing his butt with both hands, as Jane continued to demand more. Then
it hit, her entire body convulsing and Jane was shrieking incoherently now as Charles continued thrusting, shouting something that Jane couldn’t make out, but showing no sign of stopping.

Jane became aware that she had one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his lower back as she was gasping for air, feeling somehow torn between laughter and tears. Charles built to his own climax, Jane encouraging  him. As Jane reached down and pulled his butt in for the deepest of penetration, Charles obliged. Jane kissed and nibbled at his exposed neck several times before pushing him off of her. She quickly got the rag and cleaned him off, getting rid of the condom before it could fall off. Charles lay breathless and didn’t protest.

Charles leaned up and reached for his tea. He was really thirsty. He gasped in fright. Jane looked at him.

“My dear,” said Charles very regretfully, “I really need to be going, or I will be missed.”

Jane smiled at him. She thought about encouraging him to call in and make up some excuse, but that would spoil much of the beauty of ensnaring Charles to her. She kissed him instead. “Jog with me tomorrow night?”

He smiled radiantly. “Of course.” He lost his smile. “So are we a couple now?”

“We’re secret lovers, Charles. In school, nothing has changed. I will still call you Upchuck, and no one--not even Daria--is to know. And I’ll watch to see if anyone follows you. It will be over if I catch anyone,” she threatened.

“Why?” asked Charles.

“Because the last thing I need is everyone from Lawndale High showing up here, trying to get into my pants. I can’t stand most of them. Understand, Charles, you’re truly amazing, but it’s the fact that no one would ever believe you if you shared what we did that decided me to break my rule about not letting any guy from Lawndale see me this way.”

Charles frowned, but then he smiled. “If we are the same, then I can still harass you?”

Jane laughed. “Yeah, just not more than usual. And try leaving Daria alone. I have a new rule about not letting Daria get close to any guy I like.”

“You like me, princess?”

“Don’t call me princess!” said Jane. “Yeah, I like you. A lot,” Jane allowed.

Charles quickly got dressed and Jane walked him to the door. She allowed him to kiss her both deeply and passionately before she opened the door to look. Nobody anywhere. She loved this street. She ushered Charles out and closed the door, smiling.

He would be back tomorrow.