Drake and Josh are not mine.
Rated M for language and sex scenes. Hope you like!
There I was, studying feverishly for my last high school exam by the light of a dimmed lamp. It was the most important test of the year, one that would determine what colleges would accept me; a test that would make or break my future. My spine tingled at the prospects.
As I reclined in my bed, typing in some extra study material, I heard shuffling in the dark.
"Drake," I called out uncertainly, fearing it was Megan with another devilish plot, "is that you?"
"Ssshhhhh!" sounded from somewhere by the couch. I saw shadows dance off the wall and suddenly, the window snapped open, illuminating Drake's face in pale moonlight. "Josh, I need a favor."
I groaned. "What?" I responded vehemently, not in any mood for Drake's late night romps from party to party.
"I just need you to let me in the front door when I get back," Drake whispered as he clasped his hands together, as close to begging as he could come, "pretty please! You know how hard Mom and Dad came down on me last week when they caught me sneaking in the window!"
"Are you serious!?" I growled, "Do you really need to go to another party? God, I feel sorry for your liver, Drake!"
"I don't drink that much!" Drake spat as he tossed his hair indignantly.
I rolled my eyes, forgetting that my face was illuminated by the soft glow of my laptop.
"Look, just open the door at two, okay? That's all I need from you," Drake crossed his arms and let his bottom lip jut out in a full on pout.
I sighed angrily, still weighing the decision in my head. This only made Drake more desperate.
"I need to go to this party, Josh! Cindy is going to be there, she just broke up with her boyfriend, and I am going to be her shoulder to cry on!" At this statement he stared dreamily into space, no doubt contemplating every move he would make that night.
For some reason, I shuddered at the thought. I pictured it for a brief moment and shook it off in disgust. "Whatever…" I sighed, feeling defeated.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!" Drake cried out in a hushed tone as he leapt at me from across the room. Before I could move he had his arms around me in a bear hug, pushing my laptop to the side.
"D-drake-" I stuttered, feeling embarrassed and ashamed for giving in to him, again. Then I realized that there was something different about this hug. Drake's hands where cupping my shoulder blades, fondling the knots in my muscles, I could feel his warm breath on my ear as he rested his cheek on mine. Heat seemed to radiate off his body.
I gulped nervously. I was trying hard not to notice the goose bumps creeping up my spine or the blush tinting my ears and face. My hands were rigidly clawing at the covers of my bed, skin breaking into a cold sweat, and as for my breath… I couldn't seem to catch it.
"-knhg," was the sound I made as I choked on my dry tongue. I tried to swallow but couldn't find enough spit. I felt Drake pull back letting cool air flood the space between us. He pressed his forehead to mine and gazed into my eyes. Not just a stare, but a gaze. His eyes seemed to sparkle, speaking a language of their own. I, on the other hand, was utterly speechless but couldn't look away. This should have been awkward and wrong and uncomfortable. I should be annoyed; I should shove him off me… but I couldn't make my arms move.
I felt him bring his hands up to the back of my neck and nestle them in my hair, twirling it around his fingers. I bit my lip, restraining what felt like a moan, but I was surely mistaken. There was no way any of this was real. I must have been studying for too long.
"Thank you, Josh," Drake whispered, his warm breath wafting over my lips. It smelled like orange soda.
"… You're welcome," I murmured so quietly, I wasn't sure he heard me. A soft smile crept across his face showing the slightest bit of teeth. I licked my lips in an irrepressible response.
'God, I just want to bite his lips so...' I stopped, unable to believe what I had just thought. I tried to shake the sensation off, but it came back ten times stronger, taking over my body. Then Drake brushed my cheek ever so lightly with his thumb, doubling and then tripling over that same spot. My skin was hypersensitive under his touch, burning, boiling, and smoldering.
Suddenly, Drake sat straight up. I felt my chin tip up instinctively, following along with Drake's abrupt move, still stuck in a trance.
"Crap! I'm gonna be late!" Drake shifted off the bed, dashing towards the window, wriggling his lower half outside. "Remember," he whispered, "two o'clock!" With that, he vanished out of view.
I was frozen where I sat, heart pounding out of my chest, feeling completely mystified. I could still feel warmth lingering, swirling around in my stomach. I suddenly realized that I was panting heavily. I glanced down at my pajama pants. Just as I had thought: hard as a rock.
I threw my head back, letting out an exhausted moan. I must be loosing my mind. I was sure I could think of a million different reasons to pretend it was a dream or ignore it entirely… but the throbbing and pulsing stir in my groin was too much to ignore.
I slipped my sweat pants down to my knees and slowly slipped my hand into my boxers. The part of me that wanted to resist the temptation utterly vanished when I got my fingers around my cock. My eyes glazed over as I started pumping. My breath came out in short and sharp bursts, burning my lungs. I was loosing myself to the pleasure, unaware of my surroundings. I rolled to the side to get more leverage, activating the remote control with my thigh.
The TV flashed on, the volume quickly decreasing. I glanced at it through my eyelashes and realized that it was Drake. He had been working with a homemade music video earlier that day, and had apparently left it in the DVD player. I watched his performance with intense attention. Every move he made, the thrusts, the hip swivels, and his lips curving around his words… it all fueled my sick fantasy. This video only seemed to cement, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Drake held the title of Best Dirty Dancer at Belleview High.
I licked my lips. Something about the unclean and filthy circumstances made doing this even better. It was turning me on, making me feel more than every day jacking off did. Just knowing that I could be caught at any moment gave me such a rush. If I had any common sense left it would have told me I was an undeniable pervert.
It was then that I remembered which song of Drake's this movie went with. With my free, quivering hand I held up the remote, upping the volume slightly.
"Can't wait ta get you alone. Won't hold back any longer. My imagination can only take me so far…" hip twist, thrust, thrust. Just a single verse and my mind faded into a daydream. I could picture Drake singing to me, with my back against a cold wall, him holding me down with his hot hips. He hadn't even touched me with his hands yet and I was so close to coming.
A desperate, whiny moan escaped my lips as I gripped harder and stroked faster. The song started to pick up its pace, accompanying the mounting pleasure in my abdomen. I could hear Drake take hitched, short breathes just like mine, pushing me over the edge. He was almost at the finale of his song.
I panted and groaned through tightly clamped lips, watching Drake's every movement. Then, the moment I was waiting for. He threw his head back and let out a husky, breathy, absolutely sexy, "Oooooh!"
"Ahh…AAAH!" I cried out, unable to keep my mouth shut. With that, I released, completely soaking my hand in hot liquid. Everything seemed to spin as I struggled to see strait. I gasped for air, letting my heart rate slow and my body temperature decrease. All my muscles trembled with post-orgasm sensitivity. My arms quivered weakly as I slipped off my pajama bottoms and boxers. I mopped myself off and tossed them into the laundry basket, followed by my damp T shirt. Finally, unable to stay upright any longer, I flopped backwards, resting my back and head against a cool pillow.
For the first time in almost two months I felt utterly content. There I was, totally naked, recovering from a happy time session while consumed with perverted thoughts of my step brother, and somehow practically blissful. The logical part of my brain tried to attack me with all the guilt and regret I should be feeling. I say tried because my extreme exhaustion was making every coherent thought muddled. And I say should because for some reason, I just couldn't.
As I lay there, feeling my raging pulse pound through my veins, listening to my heart beat wildly and watching my chest bob up and down, I felt absolutely amazing.
'You must be dreaming. There is no way any normal person would feel this way,' my mind feebly snapped.
'In that case, I must have a dirty imagination because that was one sick dream,' I countered drowsily. I fumbled around for my alarm clock, setting it to 1:40 A.M. Before sleep overtook me entirely, I pulled the sheets up to my neck, snuggling into the cotton. With one last contented sigh, I drifted off to dreamland.