This series is a sequel. It isn't necessary to read the first General Chemistry to enjoy this one but they are meant to be read in order. If you enjoy this first chapter, I'd recommend going back to the very start.
General Chemistry II has more characters, relationships, and sex than part I, and chapters are much longer. This isn't a quick story. There are 10k words before the first sex scene. Although it's focused on dialogue and growth, you will be rewarded with many sloppy and borderline excessive sex scenes throughout the series.
Contents: The first stories are Erotic Couplings, but the series is principally Group Sex. Neurotic MC, big dick nerd, athletic bodies, tension and release. Realism is not my priority.
~
I sat in a comfortable but stained armchair in the Madrid airport, away from the automatic doors that endlessly discharged the dazed arrivals but close enough to the cafe to smell the espresso and hear the hiss of the machines. It was barely 7 AM and I'd just started on my third cup.
I was exhausted. It felt like my skeleton was rubbing against my insides all wrong. I was alone, which was good in that I would probably be lousy company right now, but bad because it meant the only person available to deal with my bullshit was me.
Pri had dumped me and now I was in Spain. That was the short version, anyway.
I wasn't sure I'd even pieced together the long version yet. There was the sendoff at the end of Spring semester where we'd assured each other that long-distance was tough but doable. There were FaceTimes and texts each day, every day, until suddenly they were every two days, then every three. Then the dead-faced emojis. Sterile
haha
's. We "fought" a few times about communication, as if that was the actual problem.
One month after we'd hugged goodbye on campus, Pri said that we should take a break. I knew what that meant. I had the choice between a blubbering meltdown and going numb. Going numb had always seemed more dignified somehow. Manly, you know, with your insides boiling. Like Hemingway.
A few weeks later, Liv invited me on her birthday trip abroad. I knew Pri would be there. They were best friends. I said no. Of course I said no. And yet, somehow, in opposition to all logic and my emotional wellbeing, I was here anyway. My grandpa used to say that "wonders never cease." I'd spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the inverse of that saying was. "Catastrophes never end," maybe. Or "life sucks, and then you die."
I felt a phantom vibration in my pocket. I'd been getting them for weeks, that feeling you get when you're sure you've got a notification but there's really nothing there. I was surprised to see Marco's text in the vacation chat.
got our bags
, it said.
where r you
I spotted them just as doors slid open, laughing and smiling and dragging their rolling suitcases. I'm not sure if Marco and Grace knew each other that well, but it made sense for them to fly together. Though their flight time from North Carolina was a lot longer than mine had been from Connecticut, they each seemed oddly energized. I envied and hated them for it, then packed those feelings up and shoved it down into my stomach with everything else.
Marco was Liv's boyfriend, a tall, lean glass of water with brown hair that always seemed tousled in a just-woken-up kind of way. He was a tennis instructor during the summer and he somehow looked more fit and tanned than last time I'd seen him. He was one of the most outrageously handsome guys I'd ever met, but he was also just
nice
. It was almost enough to make piss you off.
He flashed me a big, perfectly white smile as I stood to greet them, then smothered me in a hug.
"
Qué tal, amigo
? Or did you not bother to learn any Spanish?"
I clapped him weakly on the back, the gloom lifting just a little bit. More than I could have expected, it was really good to see him. "I haven't learned a thing, man. Can't even remember the French I actually took."
He shook his head playfully.
Marco and I had a strange relationship. We weren't exactly friends, but we weren't
not
friends either. Though Liv was the actual link between us, we'd developed a flirty little bromance. Just for jokes, of course.
I guess it would be a good time to mention that during Spring semester, Marco, Liv, Pri, and I were having a lot of casual group sex. You know, as you do. We'd established that Pri was my girlfriend, and Liv was Marco's, but it was allowed for Marco to stop over at Pri's dorm for a quick fuck, for me to spend the night in Liv's bed, or for Liv to go down on Pri after soccer practice. When our schedules aligned, we'd get three or even all four of us together. It was the most exciting time of my life, not that it was particularly close.
Marco was cool as a cucumber through the whole fucking thing. We'd never said it out loud, but I thought we each appreciated the way the other guy handled it. No nerves, no jealousy. I guess there was some kind of polyamorous terminology that described our connection but in the end I just thought of him as "Liv's guy."
I turned to Grace and made a decent attempt at a smile. "Hey, good flight?"
Grace smiled back so hard I thought she'd explode. She was Liv's friend (or was it Pri's?), a Chinese girl with bright eyes and big rosy cheeks. Without an outlet for her energy, she shot her hand into the air and high-fived me so hard that her wireframe glasses slipped all the way down her nose. She popped them back up with two fingers.
"
I-can't-believe-we're-in-Spain!
" she blurted, wiggling in place. "When do the others land? It's not for hours, isn't it? God, I wanna hit the road so fucking
bad
. I need
sun
. Oh, and I've got this amazing playlist..."
"Well, we've got--" Marco flicked his wrist and checked his watch, the fitness kind that measured your steps and vitals. "An hour and half to kill, plus they still need to go through passport control. I'm down bad on caffeine."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, same!" said Grace. She caught herself with a jolt, then took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, maybe just a juice for me."
I just gestured towards the cafe. As they walked away, I tried to remember what I knew about her. She was older than me, at least a junior but maybe a senior, and she was a student-athlete. The deep, bronze tan on her neck and arms confirmed that one, though what sport I couldn't recall. Tall for a woman and broad at the hips and shoulders, she had the sort of frame that you'd usually find in tough girl sports like rugby or field hockey, which I guess is just another way of saying she was
thick
. Her major eluded me for a minute before I remembered she was going to be a translator. French and Spanish maybe, and Chinese that she learned at home.
As they lined up to order, the primitive part of my mind pushed to the surface, watching her a little too closely. She wore polka dot pajama bottoms and a cropped t-shirt that draped from her large breasts, showing just a glimpse of pale, chubby stomach below. Her muscular ass shifted from side to side beneath the thin fabric. I pulled my duffel bag into my lap. Despite my gray mood, my cock started to thicken down the leg of my shorts. Fucking embarrassing. These days, I felt like horny and anxious were the only feelings I still had.
Soon after, Grace plopped down in a nearby chair, yipping and holding her orange juice high in the air. I thought about saying something in the way of conversation but I didn't really want to get her started. Though we'd only met a few times, I remembered her as someone who was unable to shut up.
Marco stood close by, carefully sipping his coffee. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation. In that moment, I thought he reminded me of one of those famous American actors who go overseas to do commercials. Brad Pitt selling watches in Singapore, that kind of thing.
"Good to the last drop," I said without meaning to. He gave me a look and I shook my head like
I have no idea
