It was hot and stuffy. That was fine; I had asked for this. She had asked for this… especially when she claimed ownership of him.

"Nngh… Kenny!" She breathed heavily, gasping for air through the kisses. I didn't like hearing her speak. She kept moaning. I bit her neck to shut her up, but it only made her squeal.

"Ow, that hurt!" She tried to giggle, but I could tell it really did hurt. Good. She deserved it.

It wasn't difficult to take her top off. It had a zipper up the front. Slut.

"Mm… yes… Kenny…" She had great tits, I'll give her that. They were fucking huge.

When I slipped my hand up her skirt, she practically begged. I didn't think she would be so goddamn horny. She'd been banging Craig for weeks; how deprived could she be? I guess it's never enough for the fucking nympho. After all, she kept making plays at Kyle and Stan. The stupid bitch had no idea what didn't belong to her.

There was a knock at the door. I hadn't bothered to lock it; I didn't give a shit if people saw. Everyone knew she was a slut.

"Fuck off," I called out gruffly. She laughed and tugged my shirt off over my head.

The door flew open, smashing against the wall with a loud bang. In the doorway, drunk as I've ever seen him, stood Craig.

The party raged outside, but the world inside that bathroom was silent. The only light poured through the open door, illuminating two topless, drunken blondes panting for fresh air.

"Bebe," Craig practically whispered, his voice poison. "Get the fuck out."

She didn't dare disobey. Quietly, she gathered her clothes and fled the room. The moment she was gone, Craig slammed the door shut and locked it with a click.

I leaned against the sink counter top, not bothering to put my shirt back on. I kept calm, even after Craig's angry gaze shifted to me. Too bad for him, I'm fucking stubborn and won't let a little glaring shake me.

"You've got a lot of fucking nerve." He advanced slowly, deliberately. I kept still.

"Fuck you, Craig," I threw back, still reeling from being near Bebe, the skank of the century. "She's a whore. You can hardly blame me—"

"Shut the fuck up," Craig snapped, and I couldn't help but stop. "There's only one whore in the room now."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Craig swallowed my swears in a fierce kiss. He captured my jaw in a firm grip, completely immobilizing me. I tasted the alcohol on his tongue, bitter and intoxicating. Furious, I bit down on his lower lip mercilessly. Don't get me wrong, I liked it—but I was fucking pissed.

"Fuck. You." I growled, my face still held firmly in his hand. He looked down at me darkly. Fuck you, Craig, for being so damn tall. Fuck you for tasting like Jack Daniel's. "You've been screwing her for months."

"That's none of your business."

"And who I fuck is yours?"

"You're damn right it is!" Blood smeared his bottom lip as tiny droplets seeped from my bite. "You don't seem to understand, Kenny. You're mine."

I smirked. What a jackass. "No, you don't seem to understand," I chided, trying to be as demeaning as possible. "I fuck who I want, when I want. I belong to no one. Besides, if you want an exclusive fuck buddy, you should probably stop sleeping with every whore who offers."

"Like you did?" I could tell that Craig was recalling our first raunchy encounter, a light smile betraying the rage in his eyes. "You forget who made the first move, McCormick."

"I didn't forget." I couldn't help but laugh, amazed at his annoyingly cocky and ridiculous behavior. "God, you're fucking hilarious. Just because we fooled around, you act like I'm your bitch. But you forget that I made you scream my name over and over just using my mouth—"

I winced as Craig gripped my jaw even more fiercely and entwined his other hand in my messy hair, tugging back so I was forced to look up at him. Ignoring the pain, I met his eyes fiercely as he gritted his teeth, looking ready to beat the shit out of me. I had him really pissed now. Good, the asshole needed to be taken down a few pegs.

"What's wrong?" I teased. I wasn't finished with him; not by a long shot. "You don't like disobedience? Neither do I, Craig. So here are your choices: leave now and fuck everything that moves. I won't be upset, because if you choose that, I'll do the same. It's that, or zip up your goddamn pants and accept that you belong to me."

Craig looked capable of murder. "I fucking hate you, McCormick."

"Liar."

My knees buckled as Craig forced me down, his hands clenched on my shoulders. "Suck me off," he commanded, voice deep and urgent.

He was so predictable. He thought that because I was below him, he had won. What the idiot had forgotten was that he was trusting me to do what I wanted with his dick.

I unbuttoned his pants with ease, taking it slow enough to agitate him even more. He wasn't quite hard yet. With a smirk, I wrapped my fingers around him, using my fingers to stiffen him before taking him in my mouth. There was no need to rush; I knew him well enough to know that a little time-wasting helped in the end, no matter how much he hated it. However, it didn't take me long to stroke his cock rigid. The bastard was drunk and horny as fuck. If I could handle him sober, handling him shitfaced was no problem.

"Do it already," he grumbled impatiently, but he couldn't hide the desperate tinge to his tone. I chuckled lightly under my breath. It felt like I had already won a tiny victory even though the war had just begun.

With one hand clutching the base, I traced my tongue up the underside of his cock. Craig grunted immediately, his eyes shutting and his hands running through my disheveled hair. I circled my tongue slowly around the tip, taking my sweet time. I slid the tip of my tongue back down the shaft and followed with my mouth, finally taking him in after a little teasing. I licked and sucked as he wanted me to, but only until I felt his grip on my hair loosen. After he had dropped his guard, I snapped my head back and let my teeth drag on the top and bottom of his cock, scraping along the entire length. Craig hissed in pain, but it's not like I gave a shit. I wanted it to fucking hurt. He had no choice then but to try and resist my mouth— I had him completely locked in my jaw.

"Fucking… asshole…!" Craig was about to fight back, but I bit down harder, making him flinch and shudder.

My hand replaced my mouth and I kept a firm grip. "Rule one, Craig. Don't let anyone pissed at you near your dick."

I figured my work there was done. Craig understood not to fuck with me, and I had delivered punishment for his slutty behavior. I grabbed my shirt from the sink counter behind him and finally let him loose. I turned to the door and placed one hand on the handle before remembering it was locked. Before I could turn the lock, however, Craig seized both my wrists and slammed them forcefully above my head against the door, my balled up shirt falling to the tile. He was much taller and had bigger hands than me, so it wasn't too difficult for him to pin both wrists together under one of his hands.

"Don't think we're finished here, McCormick," he growled in my ear, his breath reeking of Jack Daniel's. I should have known he wouldn't accept defeat so easily.

A shock like an electric wire ran through my body as Craig wrenched my pants and boxers down to my ankles. The suddenness of it all and the feeling of exposed air on my naked body made me respond immediately. Despite my sensitivity, my head was wrapped in an intoxicated haze; everything happened so quickly that I wondered if I was a little drunk. I had hardly had enough to get me tipsy (the amount would have trashed the average person) but as I heard Craig spit on his hands, I was strangely submissive and compliant. Normally, I take the reins in fucking around, but Craig's aggressiveness has a knack for turning me into a goddamn kitten.

He soaked his fingers using his mouth and mine. Greedily, I sucked on his fingers, making sure they were covered in warm saliva before he snatched his hand back. I knew what was coming, but I still couldn't prepare myself for it.

I groaned into the door as he shoved one finger into me. I felt him wriggle and push deeper, hardly wet enough for it to be comfortable. Every shift in depth sent sparks up my spine and down my legs. It felt raw and rushed, but Craig wasn't one for taking it easy.

Just when I was getting used to one, I felt the finger rush back out and jam back in, but this time, much thicker. In his impatience, Craig must have jumped from one finger to three. I groaned as he changed from thrusting to scissoring, every repetitive stroke stretching me uncomfortably, but not unpleasantly.

"Ugh… shit…" I crinkled my brow in an effort to brace myself. The dull ache and the strange sensation of something foreign making its way inside me was still something I wasn't used to, even after fucking around with Craig a few times. Maybe if he took it a bit slower, I would be. But who needs to get used to sex? That's taking all the fun out.

Even if my ass wasn't used to being toyed with, there was something different this time. There was an odd burn accompanying Craig's fingers as they worked to stretch me out. Craig was sucking at my neck harshly and occasionally biting my ear as small payback for before. His breath rushed against the side of my face and bounced off the door in front of me. With a light gasp, I realized that the alcohol on his breath and in his spit was inside of me. I was only tipsy, but with the heat contained in the bathroom, I might as well have been wasted.

The pain from three fingers had faded. I had been angling my hips as he pumped his hand into me, looking for that one spot that made me see stars. When he withdrew, I nearly moaned in protest. Groggily, I heard Craig spit on his hand again. I turned to look as Craig rubbed his spit up and down his cock, getting it nice and wet. The anticipation was killing me. Before Craig, I had never thought it possible that I would ever be desperate to have my ass fucked.

Craig didn't need to keep my wrists restrained anymore. I had braced my hands against the door of my own free will. At first, it had been a struggle for dominance; now, it was just two horny guys who couldn't wait to fuck like mad. Craig grabbed my hips tightly and pulled my ass closer to him. I was bent over for him in anticipation, my whole body screaming for him to just hurry the fuck up and enter me.

"Do it," I whispered hurriedly with just a short glimpse behind. Craig hadn't taken off any of his clothes and had only exposed his cock by slightly pulling down his pants.

I saw him flash a smile briefly before aligning himself and plunging in.

"Fuck!" I yelled as I swallowed him to the hilt. If blood was trickling down my legs, which I expected it was, I didn't care. I panted and managed to breath out, "…again!"

Craig snapped his hips fiercely to draw out almost completely. He paused a second before shoving back in exactly as he had done before.

I gritted my teeth and shuddered as I exhaled. The pain was definitely overwhelming, but it was mixed with an irreplaceable gratification I was greedy for. It was like I was being invaded and filled and wrecked all at once. "Fuck… yes… just like that…" I exclaimed, finally breathless as he crashed into my good spot over and over.

Craig dug his fingers into my hips in a way that would leave bruises. He slammed into me and wrenched me towards him at the same time, doubling the power of the thrusts. My body tingled deliciously at the contact of every deep penetration. Without thinking, I began to touch myself to the rhythm of Craig's movements, creating pleasure in the front and back that matched up perfectly. My head was becoming very blank very fast, and if Craig found a way to get deeper, I wouldn't last long.

"I want it deeper…" I said in between thrusts, my words a wheezed whisper on my breath.

Craig grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back. I don't know how, but Craig seemed to know that I really, really like having my hair pulled, even though it hurts like a mother fucker. Most likely, he has no idea how much I love it. He just wants to make me hurt. I fucking hate Craig.

"What was that?" Craig growled as he forced my head closer and around to look at him.

The son of a bitch really enjoyed having me pinned and doubled over. It sounds gay, but his eyes literally sparkled, like he had won a goddamn lottery. I glared at him and tasted the sweat dripping from my forehead. "I said I want it deeper, you fucking asshole!"

Just to spite me, Craig withdrew. I knew he wouldn't leave me wanting for long, however, since there was no way either of us was stopping at this point; he only pulled out so he could snatch my hair again, even more viciously this time. Without warning, he shoved me into the sink counter hard. I had zero balance— after all, my pants were still caught around my ankles above my shoes. Plus, after all the aggressive attention paid to my ass, I wasn't exactly quick on my feet. I collided harshly with the counter's edge, losing the little breath I had on impact. When I finally managed to suck in more air, I used the precious oxygen to swear loudly.

"Mother fucker…!"

"You like it."

I seriously fucking hate Craig.

He didn't give me much time to prepare for another round. Before I could fully regain my breath or my senses, I felt him push into me again, his hands grasping my thighs. He shoved my legs up and apart so that my feet barely touched the ground. The only things I could do were take timed breaths, grab the large silver faucet in front of my face with both hands, and brace myself.

For once, Craig was compliant. I asked for it deeper, and that's what I got. It was also harder— my entire lower body was lifted and fell onto Craig like deadweight after each thrust.

"Ow… fuck… fucking hurts…" I bit my lip and shut my eyes tightly, letting every movement resound throughout my body. I ached, burned, and throbbed, but I had never felt so filled up in my entire life.

"Fucking pussy," Craig muttered, taunting me and fucking me without missing a beat.

Honestly, his nerve was pissing me off. How many times has he taken it up the ass like a champ? The correct answer would be never. I didn't bother to tell him this, though. It was too many words. In response, I only whispered: "I hate you."

The lack of swearing pissed Craig off more than if I had included a little name-calling. Without swearing, there was no hiding the meaning of the sentence.

"That so? Fine." He leaned down enough that his head was close to mine and his chest rested on my back. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I felt his heavy heartbeat. "But next time you decide to fuck some slut, remember this: no one can do this to you but me. I'm the only one who can fuck you so hard that you can't even fucking walk."

It's sick, but his words turned me on more than any touch. He had practically mumbled into my ear; it wasn't like he was eloquent or some shit— just cocky with the skill to back it up. But that was more than enough.

I felt something hot creeping up my neck, and at first I paid it no attention. It was only when his breath suddenly fogged the mirror that I noticed Craig was trailing his tongue up my neck, slowly tracing the veins and detecting my erratic pulse. The whiskey on his breath traveled across my cheek and past my hands, the pungent smell swirling my head into a thicker mess. During a particularly hard thrust, Craig snapped my head back by knotting his fist through my hair. The combination of friction, depth, and pain was too much for me. I moaned embarrassingly loud, and the sound seemed to echo in the tiny, sweltering bathroom.

I couldn't see Craig smirk, but I could feel it. Not instinctively—he had begun alternating between biting and sucking my shoulder and I could sense his lips curling on my skin. He tugged my hair back with each thrust after that just to hear me gasp every time.

"I know you fucking love that," he whispered slowly in my ear, an even cockier asshole than usual.

"Ugh… fuck…. I do…" I mumbled, too overwhelmed to bother with the bullshit of an actual comeback. I was losing it.

Craig could tell. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to speed up even more, his hand still gripping my hair for dear life. At that point, every thrust was like a fucking delicious torture. Sweat dripped from my knotted brow in beads. All sense of embarrassment was gone; I was moaning and cursing freely, totally oblivious to everything except the feeling in my lower body.

"Craig… I'm coming…"

At my words, Craig grabbed my dick and matched his hand with his thrusts.

No joke, I think I saw God.

"FUCK!" I screamed as I came, and Craig didn't let up. He was going to get his share too, and in the process, it was making my orgasm fucking long. My entire body was buzzing, and it just didn't stop.

In a haze, I figured I would help him along. Biting my lip, I focused on his thrusts and clamped down.

"Ugh…" Craig grunted as he felt me get tighter. There was no way he wouldn't come with the service I was providing.

By a stroke of luck—seriously, I don't know how he did it—Craig managed to pull out and come on my leg. It was the perfect ending because seriously, I've had shit go down down there, and it's not pretty.

Craig sighed. "Fuck…"

Silence filled the thick air of the tiny bathroom. We came down from our climax breathing in the same rhythm, Craig's hands still gripping my thigh and hair. Neither of us had the energy or inclination to move at all. In a daze, I opened my eyes and glimpsed our reflection in the foggy mirror: my neck was fucked up with suck and bite marks, and both of us were coated in sweat.

I didn't know, but Craig had been supporting the weight of my legs the entire time. He slowly lowered my feet to the floor, trying to allow me to gain balance. I immediately crumpled to the ground.

"Shit, McCormick!" With a harsh whisper that barely masked his concern, Craig zipped his pants and got on his knees to inspect me. I had just collapsed on the ground, a total mess. I didn't feel the need to clean myself, cover myself, or even think. "Are you…?"

"NO I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY."

"Shit…"

"CLEAN ME UP, YOU DICK."

"Yeah, yeah."

What an ass. Even after literally fucking me until I couldn't walk, he responded to my insults with an attitude.

He grabbed some toilet paper and got busy. I watched, my head sideways on the floor and my vision still blurry. "I bet you aren't this fucking rough with Bebe."

"Don't talk about that whore."

I stared at him. "I bet you can't fuck her that hard."

"Stop talking about her." His voice got angrier. Like I gave a shit.

"Why?" I grinned lightly. "Fucking her is finally something we have in common."

Craig grabbed my chin and turned my head swiftly. I expected something harsh, but all I got was a light kiss. It wasn't tender or some shit like that—just subdued, like I was breakable. Fuck, I guess I was.

Whatever it was for, it worked. I shut up.

"Fuck Bebe. Fuck her. Okay?"

I couldn't see his face clearly when he said it. He had turned to throw something away. For a few moments after, I silently waited to see his expression. He didn't turn. He didn't even have a fucking reason to stay with his back to me; he just did. His shoulders were tense and he wasn't even trying to make an excuse for his obvious avoidance of revealing whatever stupid look he had on his smug face.

I laughed lightly. He is so embarrassing. "Yeah, fuck her."

Finally, Craig looked at me. He seemed pleased. Then again, he had just delivered a very thorough fuck and he was still a little drunk, so his life was just fucking swell.

He immediately fell back into his usual role of the sarcastic asshole. "Anything else I can do for you, Kenny McCormick?"

I glared, but I don't think I meant it.

"You better get used to carrying my ass around, Tucker."


summary of the fic's events:

titties titties titties

OMG. WTF IS GOING ON.

rabble rabble rabble

PANTSOFF.

BANG BANG BANG BANG

BAAAAAAAAAAAAANG.

*die*

despite it's ridiculously graphic and smutty nature, I WILL BE ADDING ANOTHER CHAPTER AT LEAST. Why? Sexual reasons.

hope you liked this attempt at smut. =)