Title: The Chilton Escapades (previously titled Physics Lessons)
Disclaimer: Characters of Gilmore Girls don't belong to me, just the plot line below.
Timeline: Season 3. Dean dumps Rory, but she and Jess are yet to hook up and will not in this story. Tristan never left.
Summary: Rory takes a bathroom break … Trory.
Author's note: Okay can I say I was completely astounded by the response that I got from Physics lessons. Thank you, thank you, thank you all so much for the reviews. Hugz and kisses to everyone. I really did intend for it to be a just a random smutty one-shot but given the response, how could I not add a little more? I managed to rack my brains and come up with this little number. So for now, this is a two-parter. If given the inspiration, I promise I will add more.
This is dedicated to all of you who insisted quite loudly for a sequel. Enjoy!
Escapade #2: Bathroom Breaks
The perfect place for the perfect ... crime.
The perfect place for the perfect ... crime.
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Rory Gilmore swiftly swung her locker door shut before nervously pulling her books tightly into her chest in what appeared to come across in a very defensive manner. She tentatively turned her head to the left of the hallway. Nothing but a few jocks savouring the latest eye-candy parading down the halls. So far so good. She peeked quickly over her shoulder to her right.
The blonde Adonis that seemed to have taken up permanent resident in her mind appeared to be nowhere in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief she berated herself for the fleeting disappointment she felt that Tristan was indeed somewhere else other than waiting to badger her at her locker.
This was a good thing. A good thing he wasn't there she reminded herself. Not wanting to press her luck any further she scurried across the hall, into the nearby classroom.
Finding a seat near the front of the classroom and closest to the door, she placed her books on the desk and plopped herself down on the accompanying chair. Granted Tristan wasn't in her History class, but she wanted a hasty exit to avoid any further possible interactions.
Her cheeks tinged a rosy pink as she noticed a fellow student had scratched the words Physics sux! onto her desk, as she flittingly thought how very wrong that statement was, resulting in her mind flashing back to the debacle that occured two days.
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The classroom emptied quickly as the final bell rang. Rory finally coming out of the lusty haze Tristan had plunged her so recklessly in, remained sitting stationary on her stool, in shock at what had just occurred. She had just let Tristan DuGray, Spawn of Satan, finger fuck her in the middle of Physics class, ultimately bringing her to a mind-numbing orgasm.
Tristan. Her nemesis. Bible boy. The bane of her existence. And the worst thing … she had loved every single second of it.
She let out a little gasp of surprise as her stool was swung around so that she was facing none other than said boy in question. His arms encircled her, hands placed on the bench now behind her, as he pushed himself between her legs and bent down low so that their faces were only inches apart, his forehead resting against hers. His blue eyes bored down into Rory's baby blues and she found her self instantly submerged in nirvana again.
"You belong to me now," he whispered faintly across her lips, his tongue darting out quickly, gently caressing her upper lip.
Rory shuddered in delight at the possessiveness of his words, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. She wanted to protest but all she could do was stare back at Tristan, desperately aching for him to press his lips fully against hers.
He slowly pulled away, smirking at her before grabbing his things and swaggering his way out of the laboratory. Rory just remained sitting on her stool, stock still. Her mind finally cleared through the fog. What the hell had just happened?
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She had gone home in a daze. Lorelai had thought she was in delayed shock about the break-up with Dean and was hopeful that it meant she was re-thinking about starting things with Jess. Rory hadn't bothered to correct her.
God, when she was fully able to process the events surrounding last Monday, she wanted to scream out in righteous feminine anger. Belong to him? She wasn't some piece of property. Something you could own. And he said it himself. He didn't do relationships. She didn't know what he was expecting, but she didn't do casual sex. But to her embarrassment, she remembered her own words, giving him the all clear. Obviously, she wasn't in her right state of mind, her brain too numb with pleasure over what just occurred.
And thus for the past two days she had been avoiding him and avoiding him quite successfully. Darting into classrooms, surveying hallways, ducking out of school as soon as possible. Anything to ensure a repeat of what had happened in Physics didn't occur again. She had even gone as far to make sure she and Jess had their first date scheduled for this weekend. Though any feeling she might have had for Jess had been brutally thartwed by Tristan's actions. But that was besides the point. If she was dating somebody, surely he'd leave her alone.
Her mind was thankfully given brief salvation as Mrs. Ness, stood up and shut the door as the final bell rang, signalling the start of class. She walked back towards her desk and lifted a large stack of papers and stared handing them out to individual students. "Okay, everybody this new assignment will be on the post-war American pre-eminence and its various sources. I expect a 2000 word write-up on my desk by this Friday. That gives you 2 days from today."
The class let out a collective groan. She walked back to the front of the room and sat down in front of her desk. "Possible reference sources are included on the assignment sheet. You only have this period to work on it before continuing the rest in your own time. So I'd suggest you get started right away."
Rory let a small breath of relief as she pulled open her copy of her American History textbook to the relevant chapter. Schoolwork seemed to be the only thing that was stopping her brain from self-combusting on itself. She frowned immediately as she noticed a small bit of paper tucked in the binding of the pages. She glanced over at Mrs. Ness before surreptitiously removing the paper and quietly folding it open. She stared stunned at the words scribbled before her in Tristan's messy handwriting.
Ask for a bathroom pass at 2.15pm.
He wasn't serious was he? She re-read the note again. No, apparently he was. He couldn't possibly think … He didn't actually believe she would do that, did he? How he even managed to slip the note into her book she didn't want to know. Well at least this time he'd given her a choice. Gazing at the note once more, she determinedly scrunched up the piece of paper into a tiny ball before chucking it away into her blazer pocket.
She fought off the unease the had instantly settled in her gut, as the thought that it wouldn't be that easy flitted through her mind . She rationalized to herself. 'What could he possibly do?'
20 mins later she chanced a glance at the clock and noticed that it now read 2.20pm and felt herself relax. It was followed quickly by a pang of annoyance for letting him get to her. She returned her gaze back to work, but found she was unable to process the words as she felt the hairs on the back her neck suddenly stand on end. Goosebumps formed on her skin as she started with sudden realization that he was watching her. She looked up cautiously; her eyes furtively glancing around the room. Everyone was concentrated on their own work, scribbling away furiously.
She turned her eyes toward the classroom door.
And that's when she saw him.
There standing in all his glory was Tristan DuGray, grinning smartly at her through the glass window of the classroom door. He crooked a finger at her, as if beckoning her to come outside. Rory glanced around nervously to make sure no one was watching before shaking her head no, furiously at him.
But all he did was nod back a yes.
Feeling the anger swarm in her she gave him one more distinct shake of no before looking back at her work. She tried to concentrate on her work but she could still feel his intense gaze on her, causing a strong heat to develop in her limbs. She looked back at the door and almost died of mortification right on the spot.
There on display for the entire world to see, being held up by the asshole Tristan DuGray were her cotton white panties he had stolen from her in the last meeting flat against the glass window of the door. She moved her eyes to his as he made a gesture that clearly indicated if she did not move, she wouldn't be the only one witness to this sight.
Cheeks flaming red, she found herself standing up slowly, her feet moving, out of their own volition, carrying her body up to the front desk.
"Mrs. Ness, is it alright if I get a bathroom pass? I'm not feeling to well." She managed to stammer out.
Mrs. Ness looked up from her lesson plans and noticed the flushed state of the girl standing in front of her. "Oh of course, Miss Gilmore. Take your time." She fished out a pass and quickly signed it, before handing it over to the slightly trembling girl in front of her.
Rory managed a squeak of thanks before heading out into the hallway.
It was deserted.
Where was the bloody jackass? She was smarting with a burning fury as she stalked down the hallway searching for Tristan when abruptly she stopped, noticing an 'Out of Order' sign displayed on the swinging door of the girls bathroom. That certainly wasn't there this morning.
Pushing through the door she stomped into the bathroom ready to tear into Tristan, but before she could say anything she was instantly swept by large broad arms, as full plump lips captured hers in a bruising kiss.
This had to be what heaven tasted like.
Beause never in her life had anything tasted or felt so damn phenomenal.
Tristan's lips moved fervently against hers, as their tongues battled hard, fighting for dominance. His hands hoisted her up onto the bench and her legs instantly winded around him. She couldn't control the soft mewl of pleasure that escaped from her lungs.
This is what she had been missing.
This is what she been needing since that fateful day.
His lips on hers.
Frantically he tore at her, removing her blazer with apparent ease, tossing it to the side as her hands traced up and down his expansive back. Black spots were starting to form in her eyes and she thought she might die from the bliss of it all, before she quickly realized it was actually due to the lack of oxygen.
Disappointedly she pulled away and sucked in large gulpfuls of air. Breathless she managed to focus on the boy before her. His chest was heaving heavily, also just as breathless as her and she noted his eyes were dark blue with lust, a large smirk already beginning to form on his lips.
And at that sight, that infuriating smirk, she felt her anger quickly bubble back up to the surface. She pushed him away and hopped onto the tiles of the floor. She glared furiously at him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? You think you can just waltz in, get me to skip class and do whatever? She jabbed a finger into his chest. "It doesn't work that way buddy. Obviously what happened in Physics was a temporary bout of insanity. It won't happen again."
It was all Tristan could do not to pull her flush against him and take her lips again. He was already rock hard from just that quick make-out. And God, she was so fucking hot when she was angry. And now that he tasted her, he wanted to have her again and again and again.
She was a drug.
And he was addicted.
After their little session in the Physics laboratory, Tristan had sat the rest of the lesson in deep thought. Only given the privy to a brief feel of her, he knew that without a doubt that she had to be his. Caveman as it was. He wouldn't let, couldn't let anyone else have her. He knew that without a doubt, he wanted her and her alone. He'd even fucking date her, if that's what she wanted. Do the whole screwed up relationship deal. He would do it all. As long as she acknowledged that she belonged to him and him alone.
He smiled down benevolently at her, "And what was this? Another lapse in sanity?"
Rory's cheeks tinged pink at the truth in his words but fought hard to remain her righteous outrage. "Yes. And like I said it won't happen again. I'm going out with Jess for our first date this Saturday, so whatever this was … its over." And with that she moved to exit the bathroom.
Tristan's blood boiled in anger at her words. Didn't she get it? She was his. He wouldn't stand for her dating some fucking hick nancy-boy named Jess. He snagged her around the waist, pulling her back into his chest, letting his lips rest close against her ear.
Rory shivered as she felt his hot breath tickling her ear as he whispered hotly. "You are mine, Rory." Her body shook at the possessiveness of his words as she desperately tried to ignore the arousal it brought about in her. She wasn't a possesion she struggled to remind herself. Tristan seemed to realize her inner turmoil as she fell limp in his arms. "Don't, you forget it."
His tongue briefly darted in, licking at her before he let her go. Her legs shaky, she attempted to hold herself up as she pushed her way out the door.
Rory had almost reached the classroom when she realized with a groan that she had left her blazer back in the bathroom. And not only that but he still had her panties! Settling on just retrieving the blazer for now she made her way back down the hall hoping against hope that Tristan had already left. She didn't think she'd have the power to control herself around him after that intense make-out session. God, how did he do it?
She tentatively pushed the bathroom door open and crept inside. Her blazer hung haphazardly on the bench near one of the sinks. However, Tristan appeared to be nowhere in sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, she quickly made her way over to retrieve her blazer.
"Oh God," Tristan moaned slightly, his voice bouncing off the bathroom tiles, the sound filtering loudly against her ear drums.
Rory stood stock-still, feet frozen to the ground, her right arm suspended in mid-air about to pick up her blazer.
What in God's name?
She turned slowly to the stalls situated on the left. Against her own will she found her feet gradually making their way forward to the stalls, pausing briefly for her to silently pull open each stall door open that she passed. All proved to be empty, until she reached the final furthermost stall.
Swallowing hard, she tentatively pulled the last stall door open.
Tristan stood before her, his back facing her. He was situated, slightly hunched over, his left hand pressed flat against the wall in front of him, eyes shut, lost in his own bliss. But it was his other hand that had Rory captivated.
She couldn't believe it but there before her very own blue eyes, was Tristan DuGray, masturbating.
His large right calloused hand was slowly fisting his cock, as his hips thrusted forward, in a slow gentle rhythm.
Up, then down.
His hand moved swiftly. Methodically. Rhythmically.
Rory tried to look away, tried to run, but she was riveted to the floor, her body incapable of escape.
"Rorrry," Tristan murmured gutturally.
Startled, Rory's wide eyes flew up to Tristan's face. It was serene, contorted in only the pleasure he was so desperately seeking. His eyes were shut closed. He was none the wiser to her presence.
Rory's heart thudded painfully in her chest as realization dawned on her.
Tristan wasn't just getting off.
He was getting off to her.
Sweat beaded on Rory's brow, a lone drop trickling down her jaw. Heat curled in her body, spiralling through her veins, infusing her muscles. She licked her lips that had suddenly become dry and parched. Her fists clenched together at her sides, the hard tips of her fingernails biting into the flesh of her palms.
Unknowingly she stepped in further into the stall. She didn't know what was wrong with her, but all she knew was that she could not stop watching.
Her eyes were fixed to the unrelenting movement of Tristan's hand.
The smooth, pale skin.
Crisp, golden, curling hair.
Large. Hard. Swollen. Red.
Rory's eyes bulged, entranced by the size of his … his … of him.
She glanced quickly at his face, taken by his beauty. Lips, full, pursed, deep rouge. A pink tongue eased past them, sliding through to wet the roundness of his lower lip. He grimaced, his mouth quirking into the barest of smirks before parting once more. A ragged sigh escaped encompassing her name again, a groan easing from the back of his throat.
Instantly wetness pooled between her thighs, soaking the thin cotton of her panties.
Tristan was thinking of her.
The desire and arousal sifted quickly through her bloodstream. She was suddenly left dizzy at the power she exuded over him. She couldn't believe that, she innocent … well maybe not so innocent … Rory Gilmore had driven a guy to this. Not just any guy. Tristan 'bonafide sex god' DuGray.
She didn't think she'd seen anything so arousing before.
She watched as her small right hand moved of its own volition. The tips of her fingers brushed over the course hairs enveloping his sex, drifting lower. Her palm circled his, the smooth pad of her thumb sliding over the weeping head of his erection.
Tristan's entire body froze. His stormy lust filled eyes flew open, looking down at the smaller hand resting on his, before lifting his head to trace the attached arm up to the girl of his many a fantasy, Rory Gilmore. Rory bit her lip to keep her self from moaning, as the black, glistening irises gazed into her through half-mast lids.
"Find something you like, Mary?" Tristan whispered softly to her, the deep husky baritone of his voice, only furthering to heighten her arousal.
"Let me," she breathed quietly and moved closer, pressing her body flush against his. She squeezed ever so gently. "Please."
Tristan merely groaned his response, leaning back; he let his head fall back on to her left shoulder. Shivers of pleasurable shock swam through him as he realized Rory was actually there. She was here.
And she was his.
His shaft twitched in her hand and she felt a rush of sensation throbbing in her groin. Her fingers entwined with his as she hesitantly moved her hand up his hot and hard, yet silken shaft.
Her fingers trembled in their uncertainty as they moved. Tristan's hand moved, slipping around hers until the meat of her palm slid over the smooth shaft of his arousal in a consistent smooth rhythm.
"Oh God Rory," he sighed. "Just like that."
Rory felt another trickle of desire shoot through as her groin throbbed, adding to the pool gathering in her damp panties.
This … giving Tristan pleasure … it was intoxicating.
She wanted more.
She needed it.
She shifted her head slightly, so she could whisper hotly into his ear, "Show me more." Her tongue moved quickly swiping at the lobe. "Please Tristan."
Tristan moaned loudly, the sound vibrating deep within her. His free hand moved to tightly grasp her free left hand. He gently tugged her hand forward, bringing to it slowly down to cup his balls, showing her how to caress and fondle them.
Soon they were moving as if they were in an aged old practice rhythm.
He knew it wouldn't be much longer as he thrusted faster into their joined hands. He could feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his knees started to feel shaky. He tried to stifle the uncontrollable groans and moans that seemed eager to leave his lips. This is what Rory Gilmore had reduced him to. A bumbling mess.
Tristan's breathing shallowed and suddenly a strangled shout loosed from his lips and his back arched into her. His hips slammed hard into her hand, his body stiffened as light exploded behind his eyelids and he erupted into their hands.
"Rorrrry," he moaned out softly in release.
Both remained breathless and panting at what had just occurred. Tristan shifted his head on Rory's shoulder, struggling to open his eyes to meet hers. He remained boneless against her as he watched through heavy lidded eyes as she lifted their still entwined hands up to her lips. Her tongue quickly darted out, swiping against their fingers, curiously sampling the cum that was dribbling over them.
Tristan's knees buckled at the sight and he swore he almost came again. Who the fuck was this girl and what had she done with his innocent Mary? He slid down to the floor, dragging Rory down with him, shifting around so that she came to rest upon his lap.
Rory just sat there unable to move due to Tristan's arms encompassing her waist, effectively trapping her to her current spot. She determinedly stared at the cubicle wall past Tristan who was too far gone to even form words. She couldn't believe what she had done. What had overcome her?
But her mind let her dwell with new sudden filled clarity. Whatever this was … it was inescapable. She had tried to stop it from happening, but it couldn't be stopped.
Her body craved it.
Sought it out.
And it seemed only to be appeased by the illustrious Tristan DuGray.
He was right.
She was his.
She shifted uneasily attempting to ease the ache that still resided between her legs. Tristan snapped an eye open and he grinned lazily at her, before pulling her flush against him, chests pressed up against one another, as her tightened nipples rubbed painfully against his chest.
He bent his to whisper in her ear, "Did that get you hot Rory?"
Rory could only whimper in response, his voice sending scores of pleasure through her veins, as she slightly thrusted forward against his hips, silently begging him to help her.
Tristan groaned as he felt her thoroughly soaked panties slide against his bare cock. "Don't worry, baby," he sighed as he moved his hand to slip in between her smooth thighs. "I'm here."
His stormy azure eyes locked onto hers as he slipped a finger into her warm heat. "You're with me now"
Rory's eyes never wavered from his as she breathed out her response. "I'm with you now."
End Author's Note: Credit to Veronica Mars and the LoVe couple for the use of the girls' bathroom and the out of order sign. And just like Tristan is addicted to Rory, I am addicted to reviews … it's what convinced me to add another part … and what will probably get my brain working on adding some more … --Amira