Chapter 8: The Dam Bursts
Kelly threw herself down on her bed and put her pillow over her head. She had been harassed all over campus today with catcalls. Lines from her video were shouted back at her, crude imitations made of her orgasmic shrieks. Worse yet, it was only 3 PM. Beth was in the middle of her first ride of the day on Scotty. On the first ride, she always took her entire two hours. No, she wouldn't have a chance to seek comfort from Scotty for another seven whole hours. At least, not that Scotty, she thought suddenly.
She gritted her teeth and selected Scott's number.
"It's you," he said gently, reverently. It was as if she were a small woodland creature he was trying not to startle.
"You're right, it's bad," she said in an overwhelmed monotone.
"Let me buy you coffee," he said, so gentle, so smooth.
She wanted to curl up in his arms and sleep. At the same time, she was never going to get her life together until she'd forgotten him.
Fuck it. Coffee is coffee. And she needed to clearly remind herself why they should not date. "Okay," she muttered, then more strongly, "Plato's coffee in fifteen minutes?" Wait, she looked like a wreck. "Sorry, in an hour?"
"That's next to campus. You'll be safe from harassment there?" he asked.
"You're a real porn star," she snickered, "you're the one they'll mob."
"I'm flattered you think so, but people don't care about the male talent," he said. "It's all you."
"Oh yeah?" she argued. "I've got fifty freshman and sophomore girls on my dorm floor that would beg to completely differ."
"Well... uh..." Had she just flustered Scott? "It's you, ten to one. So I'll pick you up."
"Okay," Kelly said. It came bursting out of her before she even thought about it or could stop herself.
Kelly stood at the street corner in a tight black knit dress and matching black clutch. The outfit was borrowed from a girl two doors down. She had on a big black pair of sunglasses she'd bought. She was so nervous, she was dancing around like she had to pee.
Scott pulled up in an old Mercedes. "There you are." She dived into the passenger seat like she was making a getaway. Scott carefully pulled into the flow of traffic.
She looked over at him and went weak and wet. Good thing she was wearing these giant shades.
"You look beautiful," Scott offered. "I didn't know you dressed for class so formally."
Kelly's face fell. Cover and cool both easily blown. "Sometimes," she argued. NOT. She glanced at him again as he drove. He looked more distinguished than she remembered. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"My house," said Scott.
Kelly froze. Her eyes went wide behind her sunglasses. She stammered, "No! I mean... I don't know... I promised myself..."
"Do you feel unsafe with me?" asked Scott, glancing at her and returning to his driving. "Physically unsafe? I hope... you know..." he sounded wounded.
It was not her safety she was concerned with, but her resolve. But that was top secret, or it was game over. And he had a point about public places. The last thing she needed was someone to see them together. Take pictures, videos, before they could escape. All over her social media. And then her parents would drive up here. What would a normal girl say? "It's... quick."
Scott grinned, "Is there a protocol to having coffee in my kitchen?"
Kelly was out of excuses. She fiddled with the clasp on her borrowed clutch.
They wound up into the hills. As they took the turns, Scott's giant hand ended up on her thigh. She thought to object. But then how ludicrous was it for her to object to his hand touching the outside of her body? His massive penis had opened her up into a real woman deep in her soul. It struck her as infinitely petty. Then again, consent is never automatic. She wasn't his chattel. It felt so damn good. She should really say something.