BY : Flagg1991
Category: +G through L > The Loud House
Dragon prints: 1331
Disclaimer: I do not own the Loud House or its fandom and do not make any profit from this story.

Every once in a blue moon, when Mom wasn't tripping and Dad wasn't on the rag, they let Lori throw a party in the basement - intimate little get togethers of no more than a dozen people that hardly even counted as parties if you asked Lincoln. The ones she threw behind their backs were way cooler...only he and his his younger sisters (plus Lynn) were never invited: When Lori had them, he and the others were banished to the upstairs. Stay in the living room, go to your rooms - I literally don't care Lori said once, just stay away from me.

Well then.

Lucy didn't care about being banned, and neither did Lana or Lisa, but Lola, Lynn, and Lincoln did, Lola because she wanted all the partygoers to worship her or something, idk, and Lynn because she was stubborn and if you told her she couldn't do something, she'd want to do it even more. Lincoln, on the other hand, cared because...c'mon, they sound like so much fun! Loud music, laughing, dancing, chants of chug, chug, chug that meant they were drinking alcohol (he thought).

He wanted to go to one so bad it hurt, but Lori wouldn't let him - every time he tried to sneak in, she caught him and made him leave. Seriously, Lincoln, get the fuck out of here. You're going to embarrass me.

Was he really that bad? He thought he was pretty chill, but apparently he was some kind of terrible party-wrecking monster, and if he came within so much as a quarter mile of Lori's friends, he social life would end, Bobby would break up with her, her friends would make fun of her, and the world would tilt on its axis and crash into the sun.

Whatever. Those parties sounded cool but they were probably lame - a bunch of pimply teenagers sitting around drinking cheap beer out of red solo cups and listening to dumb music.

Presently, he sat up in bed with his legs crossed and his back against the headboard, a comic book in his hands. He wore just his socks and underwear, optimal reading attire, and every couple minutes he shifted to get more comfortable.

It was Friday night, Mom and Dad were staying the night at a bed and breakfast with Lily (extended date, they called it) and Lori was throwing one of her world famous bashes that he wasn't allowed to attend. Lynn suggested they have their own party, but that wound up being a let's all catch and throw sportsballs - happenin'. He made up a lie about pulling his hamstring so he could beg off, and had been here ever since, trying to lose himself in the world of Ace Savvy but failing...kind of hard to focus when you're eaten alive with jealousy. Two floors down, Lori was having a ball, and here he was in his tightie whities like an old man waiting for Wheel of Fortune to come on. Maybe he should try to sneak in again - he could go through the vents and into the furnace, then crawl out, but he'd get really dirty, plus Lori probably blocked that way after he and Lynn tried to sneak into her last party.

Whatever. Screw Lori. Why would I want to hang out with my bitchy older sister anyway? She'd probably just yell at me. Ya gotta use a coaster, Lincoln! Don't double dip your chips, Lincoln! Stop telling dumb jokes and making my friends laugh, Lincoln! That girl comes out with more rules and regulations than a Democrat.

Shaking his head, he turned the page and scanned the panels, his brows lifting when he spotted Ace Savvy strangling One-Eyed Jack. Wait, wait, wait - why is he choking his best friend? DId I miss something? He flipped back, looking for an explanation, and cringed when he heard the doorknob rattle and the hinges creak. Oh, great, here comes Lola wanting to play tea party or Lynn looking for a sparring partner even though I told her I broke my leg or something. Why can't these girls leave me alone?

He looked up, eyes narrowed...and froze. A thin girl with long brown hair held back in a ponytail, an errant strand hanging free and lank along one side of her face, stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the knob and swaying back and forth like a palm tree in a hurricane. She wore brown boots, light purple socks pulled to her knobby knees, a black miniskirt, and a purple and white halter top, the black straps of an undershirt (or her bra) clinging to the gentle ridges of her shoulders. A silvery necklace dangled in the hollow of her throat - a heart pendant - and her eyes were misty and pink. Her name was Dana or something, one of Lori's friends. She must be lost.

When he realized he was practically naked, hot red shame burst across his face and he dropped the comic, his arms crossing over his chest. Dana leaned her neck forward and squinted. "This doesn't look like the bathroom," she slurred.

"B-Because it's not!"

Dana looked around the room once more as if to confirm to herself that it really wasn't the bathroom, then, much to Lincoln's horror, came forward, her steps clumsy and unsure. "What are you doing?" he cried.

"I gotta sit down," she said. She dropped onto the edge of the bed and hung her head. "I'm drunk." She laughed like that was the funniest thing ever, and Lincoln drew his knees up to hide as much of himself as possible. She looked up at him and blinked slowly. "Are you drunk?"

Lincoln shook his head.

"Don't. Drinking is bad." She swayed again, and slapped her hand against the bed to steady herself. "I used to be a good girl then I got drunk." She laughed. "Now I'm not."

That's when Lincoln smelled it - alcohol so thick it grabbed him by the throat and did to him what Ace Savvy did to One-Eyed Jack. There was an undercurrent of sickly-sweet lavender perfume that made it even worse. "I-I'm sorry to hear that," he said, hoping she'd get up and leave.

She didn't.

Instead, she flopped her head back and forth in a sloppy nod. "Yeah. It''s not good." She brushed her hand though her hair and drew a burdensome sigh. "Are you drunk?"

Lincoln blinked. She literally just asked him that. "N-No," he repeated, "I'm not drunk. I was reading." He held up the comic to show her.

She leaned on her arm and squinted her eyes, then laughed. "Ace Savvy?"

In his five years of comic book reading, Lincoln had grown accustomed to people making fun of him for it. Comics? What a geek! You like Ace Savvy? You're a fag, Loud, a certified fag! And his personal favorite: You're such a dork, Lincoln; you dress up like a comic character and flit around the house. That's why you can't come to my party. It didn't hurt his feelings or anything - at least not much - but it got old. "Yes," he said tightly, "Ace Savvy. I'm a dweeb. I know."

Dana shook her head. "No," she slurred, "Ace Savvy's cool. I like Ace Savvy." She leaned over as if to take the comic, and Lincoln snatched it back. In her state, she'd ruin it, and he wasn't done yet. She swayed for a moment, then toppled over, her face landing inches from his foot. She laughed. "Oops." She splayed her hands on his knees - her touch was soft and hot, and a not unpleasant tingle went down Lincoln's spine. Still snickering, she pushed herself up to her knees, her face rising over the tops of his knees like the morning sun over the edge of the earth; sweaty brown hair veiled her bleary eyes, and a shit-eating grin spread across her pink lips. "Y-You like Ace Savvy?" she asked thickly.

All Lincoln could do was nod - hyper aware that her fingers were kneading his knees like a playful kitten and that her face was bare inches from his crotch: If he spread his legs, she'd be right there, watching his thing twitch against the fabric of his underwear. He swallowed around a lump in his throat and tried to will his growing erection away, but a girl was literally two inches away, her skin on his, hot, so, so hot.

"I like Ace Savvy too," she said, "he's a real cool guy." She dug her fingers into his flesh and tried to pry his knees apart, but his muscle locked up as his heart jumped into his throat. "You're a cool guy too," she said breathily. "And really cute." She ran her fingers over his knees and along his legs; Lincoln's back arched as tendrils of sensation streaked through his body and a low ahhh escaped his lips, sounding like a man easing himself into icy water. Dana giggled and pressed her wet lips to his knee, making hm shiver and wince. She grazed her fingertips back and forth along the tops of his legs and kissed his knee again, her breathing coming faster, more ragged. She drew back and grinned at him as she cupped his knees and pulled them open; Lincoln allowed them to part, his eyes wide and his heart slamming like a drum.

Panting through her smutty smile, Dana leaned over, her back arching, and stroked her hands along the insides of his thighs; Lincoln's dick expanded against the tight confines of his briefs and his stomach clutched as if in the grip of steely claws. Dana's eyes went to his erection and she bit her bottom lip. Looking into his face, she danced her fingers closer to his center, her nails scratching, teasing, making his breath catch. "You're cute," she said.

Lincoln swallowed - his mind was clouded with sweet anticipation and thinking was hard. "Y-You too," he said.

She brushed one hand over his bulge and he trembled as her fingers traced its outline, her palm running firmly along his shaft, the heat of her clumsy touch wrapping around his length like a sensual hug. It jerked under her hand, and she giggled drunkenly. "You really like it, huh, Ace?" she asked, putting a spin on the last word, drawing it out. She added her other hand and rubbed up and down, the scrape of her skin against the material producing a crisp rustling sound. Lincoln threw his head back and gasped for air, his hands clutching the sheet and his hips thrusting slowly against her palms. Burning coals filled his stomach, and a tight band squeezed his chest. "Y-Yes," he stuttered.

Purring deep in the back of her throat, she ran her hands up his stomach and brought her face to his aching member. "I do too," she whispered huskily. She placed a long, slow kiss on his shaft, her saliva soaking through the fabric and burning his fevered flesh; her fingers massaged his stomach, drawing sensations from deep in his loins that he didn't even know existed. She giggled against him, tilted her head, and wrapped her lips around his hilt, her dirty eyes locked with his - brown and swirling with lust. She flicked her tongue against him and slid her palms over his stomach, exploring him, relishing the soft, warm feeling of his skin.

Hooking her fingers into the waistband of his undies, she tugged with a naughty smile; Lincoln's heart crushed and he swallowed hard. He'd never shown his thing to a girl, and even though he thought he was normal...down there...cold dread filled him at the prospect of being found deficient...and laughed at.

Dana giggled. "What's wrong, Ace?" she slurred, "don't wanna let me see your staff of justice?" She kissed it again, tenderly, affectionately, her tongue lapping slowly. "I really want to," she said.

Oooh, he wanted her to too.

Making up his mind, he lifted his butt, and she smirked like a satisfied cat. "There we go," she said and pulled them down, her teeth brushing her lower lip. His rod sprang free, and she giggled. Lincoln's heart dropped - she was going to make fun of him and leave, then tell everyone he had a small penis.

Instead, she took it in her hand and stroked up, then down, her fingers caressing him. "That's so hot," she panted. She leaned her head in and smiled boozily. "Hi, One-Eye Jack. Mind if I...suck your dick?"

Lincoln's heart blasted, and before he could say or do anything, she pressed her lips to his head and jerked down in one swift motion, her burning saliva coating him and her tongue swirling around his length, the loose strand of hair pooling on his leg like threads of warn silk. A bomb blast of pleasure detonated in his stomach, and he threw his head back with a shivering moan. She made a muffled noise of delight and drew back, licking him, grazing him with her teeth, rubbing him against the roof of her mouth. When he was out, his skin cold after her heavenly heat, she kissed his tip and looked up at him. "I'm really turned on now."

She looked it: Her cheeks blazed a deep, beautiful shade of red; her dark eyes smoldered, and her pert breasts rose and fell under her shirt. Lincoln's dick twitched and he could feel precum filling his slit, hot as lava, running over and tracking down his aching dick in sizzling rivers. "Me too," he said.

A lopsided grin spread across Dana's sparkling lips, and she reached under her skirt, brushing her white panties down her thighs; Lincoln watched in heart-stopping wonder as they bunched around her knees. She lifted one, nearly falling over, then the other, sliding them over her boots and tossing them aside. Holding her arms out to steady herself, she walked over on her knees and swung one leg over his lap, shifting on and laying her hands on his shoulders. His head grazed the inside of her thigh, and dizzying wet heat pooled in his lap. He reached tentatively out and cupped her hips - soft and warm just like the rest of her. "Hey, Ace," she said. Lincoln tried to speak but couldn't, could only drink in her beauty - the silver heart flat against her bronze skin; the loose strand of hair kissing her cheek; the thin black straps of her bra begging to be tugged, stretched, and pushed aside.

"H-Hey," he said.

She arched her back, and Lincoln gasped when her quivering lips slid wetly across his shaft. Her breasts pressed against his face and her fingers played through his hair. "I've never done this before," she said and kissed his forehead. "So I'm...I'm rusty." She scooted down until her nose touched his, her breath, rank with alcohol but sweet nonetheless, filled his mouth and her eyes filled his vision, dark like muddied pools and shimmering like diamonds. She caressed the side of his face, and he ran his hands up her sides - for a moment they stared at each other, both panting and hot, then their heads tilted and their lips fused, their tongues flopping and squirming in clumsy unison, her nails ghosting up and down his scalp. He took her face in his hands, then traced her shoulders, brushing the bra straps down her arms; she flattened her hands on his chest and began to slowly rock her hips, her tacky folds stroking his length, the thick heat of her arousal smearing him like hot honey.

Losing himself to passion, Lincoln slipped his fingers into her hair and undulated against her, his hips rolling in a smooth, wave-like motion and his tip prodding her, sending pangs of toe curling nirvana into his center. He ran his hands down her throat, and she threw her head back, rocking faster, her natural lubrication leaking heavily and greasing the way; Lincoln thrusted furiously, his dick slipping through her folds and the cleft where her legs met her butt. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and threw herself into his forward drives, gasps and pants bursting from her quivering lips. Lincoln ran his fingers down her delicate throat then over her shoulders, rougher now, yanking the straps down and snapping them, then pulling her top down enough to expose the top of her lacy black bra and the freckle-smattered dip of her chest. Snaking his hands around her back, he drew her to him and kissed her skin, the salty taste of her sweat eliciting animal-like grunts of passion from his working throat. "Oh, fuck," Dana moaned and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling, bringing tears to Lincoln's eyes. He rocked his hips faster, his dick gliding through her lips, dripping with her and him, rubbing against her clit on the backswing and propelling against the juncture of her legs on the forward. The friction grew as her sickly heat intensified, and he could feel himself nearing the edge. Squeezing his eyes closed, he flopped back against the bed and tried to save himself, but Dana followed, grabbing his hands in both of hers, threading their fingers, and kissing him deeply. She lifted her hips and brought her pelvis down in a quick, frenetic arch, and Lincoln penetrated her, sinking deep into her boiling depths.

Crying into her mouth, he bucked his hips and released, his load rushing from him in a stomach shredding blast that felt so good it hurt. Dana jumped and broke the kiss, her forehead resting against his and her hands squeezing his hands. "Ooooooh, God," she trembled and started to cum too, her walls clamping around him and her hips grinding slowly back and forth, milking him for every last drop. "Give it to me," she said and kissed the side of his mouth. "Ohhhhh…." she buried her head in the crook of his neck and kissed his shoulder as spasms wracked her body, making her shudder. Lincoln did likewise, kissing her earlobe just as the final spurt shot from his swollen head and disappeared into her her womb.

They held onto each other for what seemed like eternity, a panting, sweating, quivering mass of flesh, then Dana pushed herself up and brushed her bangs from her eyes; they were blurry and unfocused. "That was pretty -"

Then she puked on him.


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