Disclaimer: This story includes some nonconsensual content. If that sort of thing bothers you and you keep reading, well, you've been warned.
The house next door was having another loud party. They basically had one every Friday and Saturday night, and sometimes in the middle of the week too. The guys who lived there acted like it was an unofficial Frat house. I suppose we could have called the Cops on them every time, but they weren't bothering us. They cleaned up their messes, and I actually enjoyed most of their music. They even gave us an open invitation to come to their parties any time we wanted. Of course they did. They were a bunch of guys, so they wanted women for their parties. We were all a bit older than them, but I don't think they would have cared. We never came, of course. My housemates and I were rarely home during party time, anyway.
The night this happened, Deb had probably driven up to Baltimore to hang out with her school friends as she often did. She spent the night often enough, they should have charged her rent. I sort of suspected she had a secret boyfriend up there. Brenda went home to visit her family, as she did every weekend. Kelly was probably out dancing. As far as I know that's all she ever does, day or night. I mean it can't be, but it feels like it. When she isn't doing studio dancing, she's out clubbing.
Normally, I would have been out too, but my boyfriend had dumped me. I found out later that Brenda was right and he was cheating on me, but that's a different story. Right then, I was sitting up in my room with the light off, basically moping. I was up in the little room on the third floor with a slanted ceiling and not enough insulation. Hot in the summer and cold in the winter.
It was late spring, and one of those rare nights when the weather in D.C. isn't just awful. I had the window open, and could hear the music from next door blaring. I was seriously thinking about taking them up on the invitation and seeing if I could pick someone up. Who needed Ben anyway? The idea of messing around with a fumbling college boy just wasn't doing it for me, though. Besides, I had never been the type who could mingle in a party full of people I didn't know.
Suddenly, the light went on in the room directly across from me. When I looked over, I saw a boy and girl coming into the room. He was one of the guys who lived there. I remembered him, but wasn't sure of his name. Mike? He was a fairly big guy, maybe six two, one eighty with broad shoulders and neatly cut dark brown hair. He was nicely built, and obviously worked out. He looked like a rugby player. He was helping a blond who had obviously had a few too many drinks.
The girl was a Barbie doll. Blonde. Big boobs. Skinny waist. Perfect make-up, even sloshy drunk. Stylish clothes made to show off a lot of skin. I hated her immediately. No one deserves to look like that. She was a lot smaller than him, maybe a full foot shorter. I didn't know how well she could have walked without his help. She was leaning heavily on him, and he had one arm around her hip, pulling her tight to him.
Once they got into the room, he kicked the door closed and turned to kiss her. Well, he tried to kiss her. She wasn't being very cooperative. Every time he leaned in, she pulled herself away. It was a little comical, and I wondered if he would get the hint. He did not.
I couldn't make out what they were saying, even though their window was open too, and our houses were just a narrow walkway apart. The music downstairs was just too loud. Still, it was pretty clear from body language. He was trying to get her to sleep with him. She was sleepy drunk, and just wanted to lie down. This could turn out to be quite a show. It might be fun to watch a guy strike out. I crept close and knelt near my window so I could see as clearly as possible. My room was dark, so I didn't think they would see me unless I sat right in the window frame. It was sort of thrilling to be spying like this.
At first, I didn't think the dude had much of a chance. She really seemed adamant that she didn't want to make out with him. The guy was persistent, though and changed his tactic. I was able to overhear the word, "Massage," and that seemed to change her mind. I laughed to myself. I don't think I had ever been naïve enough to fall for that.
