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“Fucking serious?”
“As cancer,” I said, my shirt already stained with my own blood.
With a sigh of mock regret, Matt threw the hardest haymaker I’d ever seen. The sound of crunching bone actually made a couple of the party-goers faint. Matt screamed like a little girl, cradling his destroyed hand. His bloody knuckle print standing out against the white of the freezer door.
Keira ushered him into the bathroom to tend his wounds. It was possible I’d lost the only friend I’d had there but knew Matt would never mess with me again.
“What’s up?” I asked.
It was the first time we’d spoken since the fridge incident and I still wasn’t sure where I stood with her and was treading carefully.
“A few of us are going out for drinks and we’re wondering if you would like to come.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“Honestly?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure but I just thought I’d ask anyway.
“Well, I appreciate your honesty. Thanks for thinking of me but I think it’s better if I stay here.”
“Okay.”
I couldn’t help but note the resignation in her voice. It wasn’t the others who wondered if I wanted to come out with them. It was her and not out of pity either. It was real. I’d seen enough of both to know the difference.
Getting back to my desk, I restarted Fingered. Widely considered to be Kern’s best film. Or, at least the one that makes the most sense. Personally I’d always preferred The Manhattan Love Suicides.
She was there. In my head. The girl from class. No matter what I did I couldn’t shake her. Her eyes, her scent, her curves. She smelled like a sweet dessert and looked as though she would be soft and nice. Like marshmallows but also not. I couldn’t shake her look of wonder. Like a kid who’d just seen something amazing.
I never actually found out how old she was. She was probably eighteen like most of the other Frosh but I didn’t know that for sure. She could be a sixteen-year-old genius who’d gotten in on early application. Though it seemed unlikely.
My cock decided she was eighteen before I did, raising the pressure within my already tight pants. Beggar’s couldn’t be choosers, and I was lucky if I ended up with a 36 waist, let alone a 38, which was my actual size.
Deciding to try and do it right, I paused the video I had up on my computer screen and made for the stereo. Putting on a bit of Ghost, I methodically started undressing until I was down to nothing. My cock already was rigid, standing out from me at a right angle, hovering as though by some unseen force.
There were some corners of creation in which the cock was referred to as a ‘horn.’ I could certainly see the basis for comparison. Laying out flat on the bed, I got a handful of lube and wrapped my hand lightly around my thick shaft.
Letting my mind go blank, only the music filling the void in my head, I began to stroke. Working my hand from the base up over the head and then back again. Taking the time to stroke the head in gentle circles before the return trip back down the shaft to the base. It wasn’t long before my big, swollen head was glistening.
I couldn’t see this, my eyes still very much closed but I could feel it. The sudden rise in intensity on the head of my cock. The light touch of the air magnified a thousand times, sending a shudder right through me.
Suddenly Rachel was there, in my fantasies. Dressed in the way she had been in class. My imagination only stretched so far. Besides which, I was hard-pressed to think of anything sexier to put her in.
She had come into my room, quietly closing and locking the door behind her. Watching me for a moment, as I stroked my cock, she moved in. Kneeling beside the bed, she wrapped her small warm hand around my shaft. Relinquishing my grip to her, I watched as she stroked. Her gentle movements were unsure but lovely just the same.
Taking her lightly by the wrist, I showed her how I liked to be stroked, and she continued in the same rhythm. Right up until I came. Cum blasting up as far as my chest. Without a moment’s hesitation, she licked me clean. Working her way from my chest all the way down to my still stiff cock, enveloped in her lovely hand.
Moving her hand down to my balls, she started running her tongue the length of my cock from base to head, like I’d been doing with my hand. I reached down and stroked her hair encouragingly. She took this as a directive and on the next trip up, dropped her hot, wet, little mouth over the head of my cock, nearly swallowing it.
