Here is my first attempt at a story.
* * * * *
"It's so hot!" I mumble to myself.
I imagine eggs sunny side up in a frying pan sizzling away. Those damn commercials "this is your brain, this is your brain on drugs" (if no drugs are available, 105 degree heat will do just fine!). I'm stripped down to just my boxers, sprawled out on my bed, fan on full blast but the heat is still overbearing. I look over as the door merrily swings open. Can a door swing merrily? Maybe it's my angle or my brain sizzling away but I swear that swing is merry because doors can't feel the sweltering heat.
"You have reading to do."
"Yes, I know I have reading to do but my brain isn't functioning right now." I respond slightly annoyed.
"You'll fail if you don't keep up with your reading."
Kay is leaning against the doorframe, dress in a black polo shirt and cargo shorts. The light streaming in from the living room behind him creates a halo around his blondish brown hair. He's dressed in black. I close my eyes and behind my lids I imagine the heat attacking Kay in his neatly pressed black polo shirt. He looks so neat, so comfortable, so put together, so... Kay! I hate him. I roll closer to my fan and groan.
"Why aren't you hot?"
"You're an idiot. Synpers don't get hot. My cooling system kicks in when the external temperature reaches 75 degrees Fahrenheit."
That's right. We have been together so long that sometimes I forget that Kay is not human. Synpers stands for Synthetic Person. A Synper is designed to look and act human. They are meant to become an extension of their owners by filling in gaps and needs in a companion role. Supposedly their growth is activated by love and affection. It is the key to Synpers properly molding themselves physically and emotionally into adulthood. When Kay entered my life I was in elementary school and he was shorter than me. I must have given him enough affection somehow because he is now taller than me standing at 6'1". Good looking bastard. Why can't I be the one who is 6'1" and dreamy looking?
He strides over and touches my cheek. I nuzzle his hand like a kitten wanting more of his cool touch stroking my face. Then an idea hits my runny eggs brain. HA, still some brain cells not completely fried. I pounce Kay. In my mind I have instantly grown from kitten to tiger pouncing on my prey. In reality what an observer might have seen was me tumbling out of bed and Kay catching me but I will swear to more pouncing and less tumbling.
"STRIP!" I command.
"What...?" Kay looks at me with a shocked expression.
"I have an idea, STRIP!"
I start pawing at clothing while turning Kay towards my bed. I manage to unbutton his cargo shorts and they fall to the floor and start lifting up his shirt. I push Kay onto my bed and he helps me remove his shirt the rest of the way. I press my body to his naked chest.
"Ahhhh...relief. Your skin is so perfectly cool. This feels so much better than lying on sweaty bed sheets. Why didn't I think of this before?"
"You really are an idiot."
"Mmmhmm." I agree.
I close my eyes and the last thing I remember is Kay's hand stroking my hair as I drifted off to sleep.
That's how it was for all those hot summer nights. I would lie in bed with him next to me. After awhile even on the cooler nights he would still be there. It became natural for him to be in my bed, like a temperature regulated body pillow that I would drape my arms and legs over.
* * * * *
It was hot AGAIN. I guess it makes sense because I heard Los Angeles is a desert although I would never have guessed with the surprisingly green lawns littered across campus.
Tonight would be a big night. Tonight was going to be my first college party. I imagine kids huddled around beer kegs, beer pong, beer cards, beer dancing, beer (insert activity here) and ... I wonder what other myriad of stupid activities people can come up with to do while drinking beer? I shake my head, my mind is drifting again I should just think about getting to my destination and just live the moment instead of imagining far fetched scenarios. I've seen too many dumb movies involving antics and college parties. As usual Kay is tailing me in an ironed-wrinkle free t-shirt and ironed out jeans. I don't remember even brining and iron to school. He must have snuck that in somewhere on the move down, that cocky perfect looking bastard. The least he could do is iron some of my stuff while he's at it but no, I need to learn independence. I WOULD be more independent if Mr. Perfect was not shadowing my ass all the time. I push those thoughts away as I start to hear the rhythmic pounding of music.
I reach the frat house and turn back to look at Kay. "I'm going in." I steel my nervous excitement.
Kay gives me a disapproving look but simply nods in acknowledgement. So what if that bastard thinks I should be cooped up studying. I'm not doing THAT badly. I'm sure something will work out right? So what if HE doesn't approve of underage drinking. That's what college life is supposed to be about! I'm glad he didn't give me a lecture and begrudgingly came with me. I'm kind of comforted by the thought that if I get piss drunk I won't be stumbling home by myself. I would never let him know that though.
I push through the crowd at the front door. In here the dance beat is deafening and I can feel it through my whole body. I think my heart is pounding to the same rhythm as the beat. Maybe soul-pounding music would be a good alternative to a pacemaker when I hit 70. I expect by that time I wouldn't be able to hear the music unless it was turned up this loud so it might just work out. The air is stale and smells like alcohol, hash, and is that a hint of boys' locker room? I half dance my way to the kitchen where I see a pile of red plastic cups and the kegs. I'm guessing I look like a fool but it didn't seem appropriate to just stroll through the make-shift dance floor of the living room with all those writhing bodies rubbing up against each other. I grab myself a cup and fill. Cheers! I clink an imaginary glass with mine and take a large swig. I gag.
Oh yeah, you're super cool man." I start thinking to myself. This stuff tastes like crap. Do all these people major in acting or something? They seem to be downing this stuff just fine. "Okay, pull yourself together man. Why don't you just try something else. Yeah." I giving myself the pep talk. I'm the little engine that could. Choo chooooo!!! I'll just keep chugging along and trying to find something I like. I chuck the gagwater and pour myself some whisky and mix in some Coke for taste. Tastes like burning but I can deal with this. I don't feel any effects so I drink another cup, then another.
BAM! Maybe one too many cups for a novice drinker like me. But at least I'm feeling "GRRREEAAATT"!! The almighty alcohol allows me to channel the spirit of Tony the Tiger. I should call my mom and thank her for all those years of balanced, sugar coated breakfasts. I dance to the heart racing rhythm. Where is Kay? I want to see him. Target locked: search and destroy. I pull Kay by the arm to corner of some guy's room. My minion comes willingly. Oh innocent unsuspecting boy. I'm feeling bold and very horny. His lips look so good. I pull his head to mine and brush my lips against his. His lips are as soft as I have imagined. I place slow kisses on them. He bits my lower lips and sucks it into his mouth. I explore his hot tongue as he explores mine.
My cock is already rock hard. My hands creep under his shirt to explore his skin. His back is smooth with well formed muscles making up the expanse of skin. I grind my body against his. I am awkwardly humping his leg like my Aunt Courtney's Jack Russell. I hate that overgrown rat-dog. The bulge in my jeans is becoming way too tight so I start to unbutton my jeans. He reaches down unzipping my fly and wraps his warm fingers around my shaft. I imagine the rat-dog Russell going crazy in my mind. Take it easy there boy. My fingers are on autopilot and I urge his hand to free my cock from the underwear caging it. My cock positively springs forward like a fanatical puppy bounding towards his master. He gives me a few appreciative squeezes and starts stroking. I rock my hips into his hand and he mirrors my timing with his strokes on my attentive cock. My breathing starts to speed up. He's licking my neck and stroking faster. I can't hold it in much longer; the sensation to my hazy brain is too much. I cum hard all over his hand and watch it drips through his fingers. He brings his hand up to his lips and starts licking as if it's delicious icing from a cake. When he's finished with his show I sigh in disappointment. He chuckles. The guy who lives in this room probably wasn't expecting a dose of my cum on his floors. I repackage my spent cock and I disentangle myself from his limbs and come up with a lame reason for us to head home. I mumbled something about homework, tired, house might be on fire?
"Okay, we'll get out of here."
* * * * *
I stumble out the front door I came through thoroughly exhausted from the night. It was more fun than I could have imagined. I glance over at Kay who wraps a strong arm around my waist for support. The stability feels good. Was he always this strong? He guides me home through empty streets without saying much.
I magically arrive back at my apartment and I flutter in. Yes, flutter like a butterfly with my alcohol induced abilities. I gracefully make my way to my bed and stand for a minute like I'm admiring the crumpled bed sheets. I sway like my wings are being blown around by a nonexistent wind. As always, Robin to my Batman (or Butterflyman) Kay is right there by my side. He forces a cup of water into my hands.
"Drink. You'll feel better in the morning if you do." He commands. I obey like a good rat-dog.
He starts to undress me to get ready for bed. I managed to take in half the water by the time I am down to my boxers before I collapse on the bed. I place my glass down and beckon Kay over to take his position by my side in bed. Body-Pillow-Man strips off his shirt and then the pants come off. I see a stretch of smooth, hairless skin and unconsciously lip my lips. He gets into his side of the bed and I start to stroke his skin just wanting to touch it. He feels so good when my fingers touch him. I rub my cheek against his chest and get the urge to taste him. I lick the patch of chest my cheek was resting on. I want more. I lick down to his nipples and slowly twirl my tongue around it. I suck on it slowly. I hear Kay gasp, almost groan and let my eyes roam up to his face. He is looking back at me unmoving with those blazing blue eyes. I start kissing the places my lips have been and blaze a new trail up to his lips. His lips move in time to mine. I urge his mouth open and explore him while kissing him deeply. Maybe it is the earlier sexual confidence or the alcohol removing my inhibitions, maybe a little bit of both but I am fueled. I slip out of my boxers and grab Kay's hand urging him to touch me. His fingers lightly brush my length and ends by swirling his thumb over the tip of my cock.
"I want you to take me." I gasp out. My voice is deeper than normal, my breathing ragged. Did I just say that? I don't even recognize myself. Kay understands right? If anyone would understand me Kay does.
His eyes light up. He rolls me off of him and reaches over me to my nightstand. He takes out the Vaseline I keep in my dresser. I have never been so thankful to have chronic chapped lips in my life. I watch him coat a finger with the gel. I suck in a breath when it touches me. It is colder than I expected but not unpleasant. He pushes his finger inside me.
