The Blair Itch Project

TITLE: The Blair Itch Project AUTHOR: Midknight CHAPTER: 7 of ? FANDOM: Gossip Girl SHIP: Blair / Chuck RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: Erotica SPOILERS: Season 1 - A couple. SYNOPSIS: A companion piece to Moving Violation - Blair finds she has an itch, she just can't quite scratch and is forced to turn to Chuck for help. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gossip Girl. None of these characters belong to me. They belong to whoever created them and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means. AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies. FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - midknight_tales@yahoo.com CHAPTER SEVEN It was and late and Blair lay back in her bath, rose scented bubbles reaching up to her chin as she turned off the water with her toe. Steam rose from the hot, caressing water and she felt the heat soak the tension out of her body. She was happy. A little disturbed that her happiness had quite so much to do with Chuck Bass, but happy none-the-less. It had been three weeks now and she had never been so grateful for her mother's hectic, continent-spanning work schedule before in her life. Regular sex agreed with her and getting to actually sleep with her lover after was just icing on the cake. It worried her a little how easily she had become comfortable and accustomed to sharing a bed with Chuck, drifting off to sleep in his arms or with her body pressed against his. She had to admit it gave her the most refreshing rest and getting some first thing in the morning was also a definite advantage. It was starting to get harder to keep their secret from the rest of the world too. Serena was starting to show signs of suspicion. Blair had nearly choked on her coffee when her tall, blonde friend had asked her what had gotten into her to put her into such a good mood of late, considering Chuck had been inside her less than an hour earlier. Others were starting to comment as well. She just didn't seem to be able to be as much of a bitch as she had been. She now had other forms of gratification that made those seem petty and pale by comparison. Chuck took great delight in teasing her about it, but it was a bit difficult to be angry at someone whose face was covered in your sex cream after you've had a couple of mind-blowing orgasms courtesy of their talented mouth. Chuck wasn't helping her keep their secret either. He joyfully put them at risk, kept pushing her and the worst part was that she, despite her protests wanted him to. In his suite or the few times they'd done it at her home, it had become a playful and enjoyable give and take, a comfortable mix of passion, lust, exploration and intimacy, but Chuck hadn't been satisfied with keeping it in the bed room. It had started simply enough with unexpected and graphically suggestive texts that would fire her imagination and more often than not leave her wet and squirming. Then he started touching her, fleeting, inappropriate caresses when they were in public or with their friends where she couldn't admonish him without drawing attention. He played his part to perfection, his expression never changing or his conversation faltering although he was fondling her ass or had slid his hand up her skirt or just tweaked her nipple. The fear of discovery was strangely thrilling, but also kept her from trying to play the game as well. It led to angry arguments after, when they were alone, but that just led to angry, hard, wild fucking, about which she couldn't complain. She didn't find that word as offensive as she had, now that she had a proper reference for it. She liked occasionally fucking and being fucked. She never let herself think that she and Chuck were making love, but there were times when their coupling had been slow, languid and intimate that just couldn't simply be called sex either. These sometimes bothered her along with the fact that she was spending more time alone with him, sharing meals, going to movies and shows, almost like they were or he was her... She skirted around thinking those things and focused on the physical side of their relationship. Surreptitiously touching, teasing and toying with her in public wasn't enough for him either. A few days ago she had left her class a few minutes early due to a summons from her faculty advisor, walking down the empty corridor she was suddenly yank into a hall closet. "What the...!?!" she exclaimed, only to be silenced by a hand over her mouth as a hard, familiar body pressed her back against the door. "Chuck?" she queried as the hand moved from her lips. "You were expecting someone else?" he mocked and there was a click and the small closet was sudden lit by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. "No... But... What? Chuck?" she queried again in confusion. He had that smile on his face, the rye, smug, dangerous one that said he was up to no good. He was pressed hard up against her, her breasts flattening against his chest, her nipples did not react as nature intended and started to harden against the heat. His breath was hot against her lips as they hovered a mere inch from hers. Blair could feel him hard and throbbing against her belly through their uniforms as he stood between her legs, which she had unconsciously spread to accommodate him. His hand rested on her thighs, just above the hem of her skirt, flexing and kneading her and started to get an inkling of what he wanted. Despite her confusion and protests, she felt herself becoming aroused. She jumped as the bell rang and the hall outside the door suddenly became noisy with the sound of students. "Mister Julliani didn't send for me did he?" she concluded. "No... I missed breakfast and I'm feeling a little peckish." He informed her. "What does that have to do with anything?" she wondered and his smile turned into a wolfish grin as his hands slid below the hem of her skirt and up and under it while at the same time he sunk down in front of her. His hands reached the waistband of her high-cut, French panties before she could react. "Chuck, no. We can't. Not here." she admonished him scrambling to capture his hands through the material of her skirt. His only response was a throaty chuckle of amusement and she gasped in shock as with a quick hard yank he tore her panties from her. The sound of the material ripping sounded impossibly loud against the backdrop of walking feet and snatches of conversation she could hear from the other side of the door. "Guess you won't be needing these." He told her, holding her ruined panties to his nose for a moment before stuffing them in the pocket of his jacket. She had been completely flabbergasted, her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find the words to express her dismay and then all she could do we groan as he leant forward, his head disappearing under her skirt and she felt his hot breath on her folds, a moment before his lapping tongue and sucking lips. "Chuck, you fucking bastard." She breathed heavily. She wanted to be mad at him, push him away, but pleasure and the mixed fear and thrill of possible discovery made her hands settle on his head and press him more firmly to her. His hands continued to massage her thighs as his agile tongue journeyed back and forth along the length of her slit, collecting her free-flowing juices with tingling swipes interrupted by the heavy surges and jolts of electric pleasure when he reached and suckled, flicked or rolled her buzzing clit. She'd squirmed against his mouth as his expert oral attentions heated her skin and made her uniform feel itchy and prickly and her bra feel too small as her nipples swelled, hard and sensitive against the lace cups. She started to pant and moan, little cries escaping her lips as he drove her steadfastly towards her orgasm. She could feel the delicious tightening in the pit of her stomach as her sex flexed, squeezed and twisted against itself and the probing tip of his dexterous tongue with the building charge of electrical sensation at her core. She made an unlady-like sound of dissatisfaction when he lifted his mouth from her and popped out from under her skirt to look up at her with one of his infuriatingly smug grins. Her juices covered is lips, chin and cheeks in a glistening sheen that made him look even more perverse. "You might want to keep it down, Blair. That door really isn't all that thick." He suggested and his tone was so even, she couldn't tell if he was playing with her or not and she felt a spike of fear as she thought that someone might have heard her. Her consternation must have shown on her face and been his intended goal, because he chuckled with amusement. "You really are a bastard." She scolded him. "Now finish what you started." She commanded, digging her nails into his scalp as she pulled him to her and thrust forward to press his lips back on her sex. Even with all that had happened she was surprised by how she could let her desire override her fear and sense of propriety as she bent her legs slightly and started to undulate, grinding against his lips and probing tongue. He ate her hard and fast, spending more time and intense attention on her clit and his talents soon sparked the runaway wildfire of her climax to blaze through her body in hard, heavy surges of pleasurable energy. She tried to stifle her cries by pinning her lower lip behind her teeth, but in the end she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to contain her scream of release. He slowed his pace and intensity, but did not stop keeping her tensing, quivering and shuddering as her sex sporadically clenched and flexed as he sustained and drew out her orgasm. She was panting heavily and desperately tried to keep the noise she was making down as she could still hear foot traffic and the conversation of students on the other side of the door. He finally lifted his head leaving her feeling conflicted, wanting him to continue, while knowing she was at her bodies limit of sensitivity where pain began to outweigh pleasure. It took her several moments to catch her breath and focus her vision to look down at him kneeling in front of her, licking his lips and collecting her cream from his face to suck it off his finger with obvious relish. "Don't ever change your diet, Blair. You are just simply the sweetest tasting thing ever." He instructed her before rising to his feet. He kissed her and she could taste herself on his lips and in his mouth as she melted against him. She was a little rubber-legged and sex-dazed from her orgasm and she didn't even protest when he turned her to face the door. She heard the sound of his zipper lowering, but the import didn't register on her until she felt him hike up her skirt. She had wanted to protest, their chances of discovery were growing, they were pushing their luck, but then his thick, pointed dickhead was sliding through her folds with a inviting promise she found herself unable to deny. He seated himself at her entrance and with only the shortest of pauses drove into her. She braced her hands on the doorframe, just in time to stop herself slamming against the door and had to bite her lip hard to stifle the gasped cry that was forced out of her as he stretched and filled her, his thick, long shaft forging through her resisting flesh to plumb her depths. She clenched around him as he ground into her butt, dragging in air through her nose and mouth to steady herself as she carefully rested her forehead on the cool wood of the door. His chest was hot against her back as he rested some of his weight on her and brushing aside her hair nuzzled at the skin where her neck and shoulders met. "I could stay inside you forever." He whispered in her ear, his voice a low, honeyed caress before she felt his tongue lightly wet the shell of her ear. She had started developing the strangest flutter in her stomach when he said things like that. It made her nervous and thrilled her at the same time. Blair shifted back almost unconsciously, moving her feet further apart, encouraging him to start moving inside her. He kept his strokes shallow, keeping most of his thick shaft throbbing against the tight grip of her channel and guided her hips in tight grinding circles. Her fingers flexed, her nails biting into the wood of the doorframe as sparks of pleasure zipped over already climax-sensitized nerves. "Does it excite you that we might get caught; that there's a whole school full of people who know you right outside that door? That if I started pounding into you right now, everyone would know?" he asked, his breath hot and panting against her ear, his voice a soft predatory growl. She clenched around him, adding more of her cream to the slippery morass it already was and felt a spike in the steady build of her second climax. "Does it?" he badgered his hand reaching around to tweak her clit. She gasped at his touch and immediately bit her lip, tense and poised, to do what she didn't know, if someone had heard her and it led to their discovery. His other hand found and squeezed and fondled her breasts through her blouse and bra. His hand was a delicious torture as they spread heat and pleasure into her chest as well as discomfort as her swollen, hard, sensitive nipples were crushed and rubbed against the restraining cups of her brassier. "Does it?" he kept asking, relentlessly linking the question to each time his body met hers, his fingers working her clit and tweaking her breasts at the same time. She wanted to scream her answer at him as she pressed back and down onto his thrusting shaft, but her admission ended up soft and resigned. "Yes... God help me... Yes." She admitted as she let his nimble fingers and cock drive her to climax. Some part of her had been holding back until she made that simple admission and with her surrender, her climax was suddenly a wild thing, feral, scrabbling, fighting and clawing at her senses; seeking escape; needing release, and suddenly it tore free of her restraints and through her body. She hissed through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring as she tried to get enough air without letting her cry escape her mouth as her body tensed around him, her legs trembling as she shuddered with the waves of intense pleasure that radiated through her. She felt his teeth on her shoulder and felt him grunt against her skin as her squeezing, twisting, flexing, flooding snatch added his release to hers. She felt him tense behind her, his cock driving just that little bit deeper as he wrapped both his arm around her midriff and held her against him as he swelled and deflated, swelled and deflated, expanding against the climax-tight grasp of her channel as he poured his essence into her in heavy spurts. Blair didn't know how long they stayed locked like that, but when he finally relaxed his grip, everything was quiet, except for the sound of their heavy breathing. He kissed her shoulder and she hissed as it stung. "Sorry about that." He apologized, lightly blowing on what she would later find was a shallow bite mark. She felt like she'd run a marathon and groaned as he pulled out of her. She turned slowly until her back was leaning partly against the door and partly against the wall next to it, as her energy level and muscular control started to return to normal. She watched as he tucked himself away and zip up before re-buckling his belt. Blair could feel the juices of their combined orgasms slowly start to trickle out of her. She watched as he fished her ruined panties out of his pocket and with casual efficiency, lift her skirt and clean her up with it and she let him. The lacy material felt rough against the inside of her thighs and the sensitive lips and folds of her well-pleasured vagina, but his touch was gentle and somehow very intimate. "You might want to stop off at the bathroom before you go to class." He suggested as he again stuffed her ruined and now soiled panties in his pocket. "Are you okay?" he asked, a frown creasing his forehead and concern clouding his dark eyes when she remained quiet. "I'm good... I just can't believe that I just let you screw me in a closet." She told him as she straightened her skirt. He deliberately placed his hands on the wall and door on either side of her head and leaned forward, his face a mere inch from hers. "I think you can believe I just, how did you put it, screwed you in a closet, but what you can't believe is how much you got off on it. How you'll stay wet for the rest of the day just thinking about it, that's what I think, Blair." He informed her, slowly leaning forward. She couldn't make any kind of answer; he didn't seem to expect any as he crushed his lips to hers in a hard, passionate kiss. She snaked her fingers into his hair, kissing him back as hard and as passionately, lips sliding together, sucking while tongues darted and danced, fenced and wrestled, advancing and retreating. She tightened her grip in his hair and forcibly broke their kiss, tugging at his hair and catching and stretching his lower lip between her teeth before releasing it. "Oww." He commented coolly, running his tongue over his lip. "That's for my panties, I liked them and they were expensive, my mom brought them from Milan." She told him wiping her lips on the back of her hand as she caught her breath and used the motion to curtail her urge to drag his lips back to hers and continue to kiss. "I'll buy you another pair, I don't care how expensive they are, it will be worth it knowing you won't be wearing any for the rest of the day." He informed her, his patented smug grin plastering itself on his face. "You're evil." She accused him and he shrugged. "I've never denied that, but I may be evil, but I am also prepared." He told her and dug into his jacket pocket. "Hall pass and excuse slip for one Miss Blair Waldorf." He explained, handing her the slips of paper he produced with a flurry. "Where did you get these?" she queried. "I'm Chuck Bass, that's all you need to know." He explained without really. "You wouldn't happen to have a fresh pair of panties in there would you?" she asked hopefully. "Nope. I left the spare ladies lingerie in my other jacket." Chuck told her with an impossibly straight face. "You wouldn't give them to me even if you did, would you?" she stated and he winked slowly, his lips slipping into a taunting lopsided smile. "Grrrrrrr. Why do I put up with you?" She growled in annoyance. He leaned forward, his cheek brushing against hers. "Because, you love the way I make you cum." He informed her and nipped lightly at her earlobe and she couldn't find the flaw in his reasoning. Chuck shifted her clear of the door and switching the light off, opened it a crack. He turned to her. "The coast's clear. You go first. Do I see you again tonight?" he wondered. "Yeah, my mom's in Paris until Friday. I can sleep over." She informed him checking that she looked more or less respectable enough to make it to the bathroom without drawing undue attention. "Great. Dinner at Butter before dessert at my place?" he offered. "It's a date... I mean... a girls got to eat." She accepted, not quite sure why she felt the need to correct herself. "Eight at Butter it is then." He confirmed. "Make it nine. I have a paper to finish before... you know," she requested. "Fair enough. Nine it is." He amended. He checked to make sure the hall was still empty and then beckoned her to leave, opening the door wide enough for her to do so. She had to duck under his arm and as she popped back up he surprised her with a quick kiss and then she was on her way. That was a week ago and in the interim there had been two other closets and both the boy's and girl's lavatories on both floors of their school and the loss of another two pairs of panties. And, he had not been the one to initiate all of those trysts, either. She had eagerly dragged him into the girl's bathroom on the second floor. He had been right, again, as infuriating as that was. "The danger of discovery and the risk is a thrilling, addictive aphrodisiac and adrenaline rush." She mused as she luxuriated in the bath. Yet, that still didn't explain or helped her believe what she had let him talk her into doing just a scant few hours ago... TO BE CONTINUED