Title: What's Love Got to Do With It?
Summary: AU. Blair Waldorf, Connecticut Princess meets Serena VanDerWoodsen, UES Queen while at Yale. During winter break, Blair heads to NY for some fun and happens upon Serena's brother, Chuck Bass.
Rating: M
Chapter 2
Serena and Blair departed Yale the next day. Blair was thrumming with excitement. She had been to New York on several occasions, but never while single. Now was her chance to cut loose and really have fun.
"Ugh, finally," Serena moaned. The limo ride had been way too long.
Blair had to admit, she was impressed by the VanDerWoodsen co-op. It was massive for New York and tastefully decorated. She had to get the name of their interior decorator.
Once upstairs, Serena showed Blair to her room and the two got settled in.
Later that evening and several bottles of Blair's favorite Dom later, she and Serena ventured out. Their first stop: Butter.
The selection of men was slightly impressive, though she wouldn't admit as much. She still felt like a prude sometimes. Was it wrong that she [sub]consciously competed with Serena? No, she thought, that's what friends do.
Within an hour of their arrival, Serena had managed to make out with three randoms and was moving on to her fourth. Blair was being a little more selective. Her first New York fuck needed to be exceptionally hot. It would make for a good starting point.
By eleven, Blair had found her man. Tall, dark, handsome, and married. Not that she cared; she wasn't the one cheating. She thought that his name might be Mark. But it could have been Mike or Matt. It wasn't like it mattered. This was a one-night-stand, pure and simple.
Blair, Serena, and their gentlemen friends left Butter by two. Serena had decided to take home some blonde investment banker named Blake. He was equally as hot as Mark, of course.
Once back at the apartment, the girls parted ways to entertain their guests.
Mark was sexy as hell and Blair was ready to have her brains fucked out.
He pushed her onto the bed and immediately pushed up her skirt. Licking a path from her right knee, up her thigh, and to her soaking panties had Blair moaning and writhing in pleasure. The best part of an older man was he knew how to pleasure a woman.
He tore off her La Perla's and parted her folds. Circling her clit with his tongue had her hips meeting his face almost instantly. God did she love when men went down on her.
Finally giving in, Mark tongued her clit. She let out a whimper and closed her eyes.
"FUCK!" she yelled. Oh was he good at that. When he began thrusting her fingers insider of her, she let out another scream.
"You're so hot, baby," Mark whispered into her. Why did men insist on talking? She knew she was hot; she certainly didn't need his commentary. In all honesty, it's not like she cared what he though of her. He would be forgotten by tomorrow morning.
When she could take no more, she dragged him by his hair up to her. She kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. Was it wrong that she enjoyed the taste of her own cunt?
Mark quickly tore her dress and bra off and stripped as well. He slipped a condom on and rammed his hard dick inside.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned.
She sighed inside her head. He might be loving this, but she was a little disappointed at the size of him. It appeared that he was a shower, not a grower.
"Feels so good…" she whispered back. The sooner this was over with, the sooner she could kick him out and finish the job herself.
He lasted for a few more minutes before cumming hard and loud. She wasn't even close to being finished, but it was easier to fake it. She screamed "yes," hoping it sounded believable. Based on his proud smirk, she assumed he bought it.
After a few minutes of lying down, he pulled out. Finally, Blair thought.
Mark stepped into the hallway bathroom to wash up wearing nothing but his boxers. Blair sighed in disappointment. She had increased her number and it wasn't even worth it. Oh well, she would polish herself off as soon as he left.
He came back into the room and looked like he was planning on joining her on the bed. She sat up and put up her hand.
"That was amazing," Blair lied, "but I think it would be best if you left."
"What? Why?" He asked, completely puzzled by these turn of events.
"Look Mark, as much fun as it's been, I don't do the whole spooning act. But, really, thanks for the fuck," Blair said.
"My name is Matt," Matt growled. "Slut," he bit out as he pulled on his clothes.
"Have a nice life, Matt," Blair sniped, smirking at him. He looked like a puppy that had just been kicked in the face. Not that she cared.
He walked out, slamming the door behind him. As soon as she heard the elevator ding, Blair slipped on her bra and panties (Serena would probably be busy for a while, assuming she was luckier than Blair) and ventured out to get the rest of the Dom she and Serena left in the kitchen.
Blair didn't bother to turn on the lights. Opening the fridge, she didn't hear the elevator ding again, signaling someone was home. She sat on the counter sipping the Champagne out of the bottle. Classy, she smirked to herself.
A moment later, a figure appeared in the kitchen, and Blair nearly screamed. He turned on the lights and grinned.
Chuck Bass was a lucky Basstard. He was suddenly glad he didn't bring some slut home; he had stumbled upon the sexiest creature he had ever seen. His eyes ran over her perfectly toned body; her creamy breasts were spilling out of the top of her lacy red bra; her matching red panties were practically see-through. His dick twitched inside his silk boxers.
"Who are you?" Blair demanded, as if she belonged and he was the intruder.
"I'm Chuck Bass."