The Only Way I Could Lose It

I've always been shy and socially awkward. Really, not just socially awkward, but socially anxious, even fearful. The thought of having to talk to people frightens me. Along with all that I have very low self-esteem that crushes all my hopes for changing anything for the better. So I've had very few friends and no romantic partners. Not that my life is horrible. Being valedictorian and starting college at sixteen can give an ego boost. But then being short, small, thin, frail, and withdrawn among a university of men all bigger and more manly than I'll ever be squashes any of that pride.

Still, I pushed myself and by the time I turned nineteen I was in my last year of undergraduate work with majors in biology and math, and a strong minor in computer science. I was going to do research that anyone around me could never comprehend. I already had. But despite all that I would have traded it all just to be able to talk to girls. Well, that's not true. I would have traded it all to be able to fuck girls. I was obsessed with it. I thought about fucking constantly. I had never had sex. At the age of nineteen I was still a virgin. I hadn't touched a girl. I hadn't even kissed a girl. I could barely speak to them. I was a mess. Social anxiety and the physique of a twelve year old boy aren't what any woman is looking for in a romantic partner.

So my first time having intercourse came as a surprise to me. It would have come as a surprise to the woman too if she had been awake for it. My first time was a rape. Of course it was. Looking back there was no other way it could have happened. I remember that night fondly.

It was just past three a.m. and I was wide awake. Unlike most of the other students at the university awake that night having fun, I was sitting at the kitchen table with an almost empty mug of coffee beside me, my Abstract Algebra book open, and a mine field of crumpled up paper scattered around me. It was a Friday night and everyone else was having fun, while I was doing homework. So, it was a typical Friday night for me.

"I didn't sign up for this," I grumbled and then immediately corrected myself. I had signed up for it. I just hadn't known what I was getting myself into.

"Fuck football and fuck Russell," I yelled and shoved my book across the table, knocking more paper onto the floor.

I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed to release the tension. I laid my glasses on the table and rubbed my eyes. My eyes were always sore from sleeping too little and staring at books and computer screens too much.

Then, I heard a thump at the front door of the apartment followed by giggling and a loud voice barely muffled by the door. I sighed deeply and considered going to my own bedroom to avoid my roommate coming home from wherever he had been all night, but decided to sit there, wanting him to see me still awake, still studying, working hard, and all because of him.

I put my glasses back on quickly without hooking them behind my ears. I pulled my book towards me and sat up straight, trying to look like I was still engrossed in my work. I heard him fumbling with the key in the lock and considered opening it for him, but discarded the thought. Let the asshole get his drunk ass in himself. I helped him enough.

I heard him talking to someone and heard a quiet laugh again. He was with a girl. I immediately sat up straight and felt my stomach tighten. It wasn't rare for him to bring a girl home with him and I should have figured he would that night. He was the star running back for our team. Girls threw themselves at him like he was a rock star, all of them gorgeous, girls I could barely make myself look at but ogled as best I could when their backs were turned. My heart was hammering in my chest as I wished I had gone to my own bedroom when I'd heard him. Now I was going to have to sit there while Russel and some gorgeous girl laughed at me for studying on a Friday night. I tensed at just the thought of it. I considered quickly scuttling off to my bedroom when I heard the lock slide back and the door was shoved open.

I looked away, searching for the paper I was writing on just a minute ago. I pulled it towards me and grabbed for the pencil but it spun from between my fingers and fell on the floor.

"What a spaz," Russell laughed as he entered the room. "He's always dropping and breaking shit."

I tried to pretend I hadn't heard him and bent over to get the pencil. My glasses slipped from my face and fell on the floor. Russell laughed again, joined by the girl this time, a high mocking laugh that dripped with the disgust she felt for me.

"Dammit," I hissed to myself. I squinted to locate my glasses and leaned out of the chair to pick them up.

I put the glasses on and as I was sitting back down Russell slammed the door closed loudly making me jump, causing my elbow to bump my coffee mug, knocking it on the ground, bouncing and spinning, spraying the bit of coffee across the carpet.

They both broke out in laughter. I felt my face burning and clamped my teeth together to stop them from chattering. I couldn't look at them, too embarrassed to let them see my face, and just sat there letting their laughter fall on me, pounding on my head and shoulders. People were always laughing at me.

I went to the kitchen for a roll of paper towels, stepping on wadded up pieces of paper. As I turned around I kept my head down so I could barely see them standing by the closed door, leaning against the wall, looking at me. Laughing at me.

I dropped to my knees, picked up the coffee mug, and placed it on the table. I unrolled some paper towels and began sopping up the coffee.

"My roomie's always good for a laugh," Russell bellowed.

"Glad I could amuse you," I stammered, hearing my voice cracking, losing any of the anger I wanted him to hear. I even spoke like a wimpy loser.

I saw his feet out of the corner of my eye as he walked towards the kitchen table. I hoped he wasn't going to sit down and mess up my papers and books. I wanted him to just take his girl to his room and leave me alone.

"You're still up studying?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

I pressed more paper towels into the carpet when she walked towards me. I saw a pair of brown leather ankle boots. I looked up her long, tanned bare legs to the very short blue denim mini-skirt and tight pink long-sleeved shirt that left her tanned flat stomach bare, a ring glittered from her belly button. I turned my head back down before I saw her face, hoping she didn't seem me staring up at her, already feeling that lustful heat in my gut and groin from just the sight of those legs and stomach, that bare flesh that looked so soft. My head was buzzing as I soaked up the last of the coffee spill.

Russell said something but I didn't hear it.

"What?" I asked, trying to sound exasperated, but knowing I just sounded confused.

"Did you finish my paper for tomorrow?" he asked again.

I picked up the clump of soiled paper towels and stood up, my eyes on the ground so I couldn't see him.

"Yes, I did it first thing tonight," I said. "Now I'm working on my own homework."

"Thanks, man," he said, actually sounding thankful. He always made it hard me for to hate him.

"I printed it out and put it on your desk in your room where I always do," I said.

I walked into the small kitchenette and threw away the paper towels.

"The paper about the condoms right? The Trojans?" he said, then laughed at himself.

"The Trojan war," I said, knowing he was joking but unable to stop myself from correcting him anyway. "The Iliad..."

I turned around to give him a quick lesson on Homer's Iliad, but stopped when I saw the girl wobbling next to him.

At a university of at least 50,000 students there were the people you seem to always cross paths with or people that you notice in the crowd, and she was the one I noticed in any crowd and was always looking for. She had an incredible body with curves that I had only seen in movies and magazines, and she seemed to enjoy showing them off by wearing low cut blouses, pants that didn't even cover her hips, and skirts that just barely covered her perfect round ass. I stared at her anytime I saw her, even followed her from a distance, just to watch her hips and butt move as she walked.

She had her hand resting on Russell's shoulder, trying to look casual, but actually using him for support. Her eyes were half-closed and not as much staring at me as looking around me. Still, even drunk or stoned or whatever she was she looked gorgeous as ever. She had on dark red lipstick, pink blush, and blue eye shadow that melted into her green eyes. Her auburn hair flowed in long waves down to her bare shoulders and long neck. Her round firm cleavage pushed up and out of her tight shirt that barely covered her torso, just wrapped around her large breasts, leaving the top of her breasts and her stomach bare. The opening at the neck plunged down so I could easily see she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Whatever, man," Russell said, forcing my eyes to him. "Thanks for writing it."

"That's my job," I squeaked and sat back down at the table.

"I feel a little dizzy," she said, leaning into Russell.

"Then sit down here," he said.

He lead her to the couch and she fell onto it. He sat down next to her and sighed deeply. She wrapped her arms around his arm and laid her head on his shoulder.

"What the hell did you take at that party?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she mumbled, her long auburn hair covering her face. "Angela had some pills and gave me some."

"You shouldn't take whatever people give you," he said. "That's just stupid."

"Whatever... dad," she said, laughing to herself, and leaned back against the couch.

"I'm not being your dad, just... whatever," he said, sounding exasperated.

"He's right," I said, feeling I had to force the words out of my restricted throat. "You need to be careful with that stuff. You never know what could happen."

"Fuck both of you," she mumbled. Her head was laying back against the couch with her eyes closed. My eyes traced the length of her long neck down to her breasts.

"Kids, today, eh?" Russell said to me and smiled.

I forced a smile back at him.

"Hope we're not bothering you," he said to me.

"No, it's fine," I heard myself say. "I should probably go to bed anyway."

"Hope we're not running you out of here. You can hang out with us if you want to," he said.

"I don't care," I said and pushed myself to my feet. "I'm going to my room to try to get some sleep."

"We'll keep it down," he said and grinned, showing that they probably wouldn't keep it down.

Before I turned away I looked at her slouching on the couch with her head still laid back, her arms laying slack to her sides, her left leg hooked over his right leg, spreading her thighs so I could see far up her short denim skirt to her tiny pink thong. I felt heat rising on my face again, angry that this girl I had lusted after so much was here in my apartment and my roommate was about to fuck her.

I went to my bedroom and closed the door. The one, and probably only, benefit to living with Russell was the on-campus apartment we got with two bedrooms and a small kitchen/living area. Most of those apartments had two people to each bedroom but Russell and I each got our own bedroom. The apartment was small compared to those off campus, but with only two people it was the nicest place to live on campus.

For the privilege of living in such comfort and for having my tuition and housing paid for I had to help Russel with his school work. Of course I didn't really help him. I just did his work. I was bitter about it, but looking back have to admit it was a good deal and Russel really wasn't such a bad guy. In his place I'd have done everything he did, if not more.

Once the bedroom door was closed I stood in the middle of the room and stewed in my own anger and resentment. It was one thing to lust after this girl, watch her around campus, and masturbate about her later, but a whole other thing to have her there in the next room, spread out like a whore ready for my roommate to use her as he wanted. I wanted to be the one in there with her. I sighed to myself thinking that if I was in there with her I probably wouldn't do anything. I'd be too afraid.

"You're such a fucking pussy," I whispered, balling my hand in a fist.

I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I knew I'd never be with a girl like her. I wasn't a jock. I was a skinny, awkward geek. I didn't even really want to be with a girl like her. I just wanted to fuck her. Truthfully I wanted her to want me, but I knew that wouldn't happen, and so instead of being at parties and bringing her home I was doing homework all night and then laying in bed alone.

I opened my pants and begin playing with myself. I closed my eyes and pictured her how I saw her out there in that tight shirt and skirt, her breasts pushed together with that deep cleavage I wanted to lick, the flow of her hips and waist, her long legs and firm thighs, those ankle boots that seemed to belong on my shoulders. I imagined myself going out there, Russell having gone to his room alone, and her looking at me, sitting up straight on the couch now, watching me, and I could see the lust in her eyes, she wanted me, "I've seen you around campus," she said, "I've seen you watching me," and I just nod and smile at her, I don't say anything, and I sit next to her and she puts her leg over my leg and leans towards me, her cleavage right under my face and we kiss deeply and I touch her breasts and I touch her thigh and I can feel how she wants me.

Then I stopped jerking off and sighed to myself. "She'd never want you," I whispered, snapped out of my own fantasy. I closed my pants and stood up, letting the erection go away.

I decided to just get ready for bed. I needed to go to the bathroom but it was off of the main room so I would have to interrupt Russell and his date. I stood by my bedroom door and held my breath, listening for any noise in the outer room. I heard nothing and thought that maybe they had gone to his room. I opened the door slowly, trying to not make a noise.

I almost closed the door again when I heard Russell sigh loudly. I looked into the room and saw him sitting on the couch, his pants and underwear pushed down his thighs with her still sitting next to him, but leaning over him, her head at his crotch. He held her head as it moved up and down over his lap. I felt the skin along my scrotum tighten and a shiver across my arms.

I ducked back in the room, hiding behind the door, my hand gripping the doorknob tightly. I stared across my room but was still seeing them on the couch, her head moving up and down rhythmically, her hair dangling down around his thighs, his hands gripping the back of her head, as if caught in an infinite loop, over and over again. I stood still, holding the door slightly ajar, hearing him groaning louder now, and wondered what to do.

Part of me was angry. I knew he would fuck her, fuck the girl I had obsessed so much about already, but seeing him doing it, doing it so flagrantly right in our living room, where he knew I could see them, knew I would definitely hear them, and him knowing I had a thing for her, and even joked with me about it, showing his arrogance as well as his lack of basic consideration to me, made me angry. I imagined myself walking in there, yelling at him, making a scene, but I knew I would never actually do that. Plus, even with that anger, I was also very aroused by it. Yes, I wanted her and had wanted her for some time, but it wasn't like I was in love with her. I had dreamt of being with her like that so many times and someone was, and right there in my living room. I had lusted after her for so long, and lust is a basic emotion, and very difficult to ignore.

I leaned forward and, worried they might have noticed me, barely peeked out around the door. Down the short hallway from my bedroom and past the front door I could see the couch against the far living room wall. They were still at it. Russel was looking down at her, seeming to lift her head up and down. She was leaning over him awkwardly, her legs spread wide, pulling at her tight skirt, one hand gripping the top of the couch, the other hand holding his knee for support.

It almost looked like he was forcing her to suck him. She was making muffled grunts and her arms were straining as if she was trying to push herself away and he was holding her head in his lap, lifting her head up just to push it back down. Then, he held her head down, almost pressing her face into his lap, and her back arched, trying to pull away, like she was gagging on him, and he just pushed his hips up a bit and groaned loudly.

"Yeah, you can take it, girl," he said.

Then, he lifted her head up all the way and she sucked in air deeply.

"Russel, take it easy," she slurred, wiping a hand across her wet mouth. "I thought I was going to throw up. I already don't feel good."

"I'm sorry, you just really turn me on," he said with a grin.

I could see why she was having trouble. His large dick stood up, erect and long, glistening from her saliva. That she hadn't thrown up from that length of penis in her mouth and throat was amazing in itself.

"Here, lay down, let me see that pussy," he said and pushed her back on the couch.

She laid down on the couch, her head on the arm rest, as he pulled her legs up onto his lap. He pushed his pants and underwear off and then lifted one leg up onto the couch to sit between her legs. She drew her knees up and spread them wide, opening her thighs for him. I couldn't help but see myself as the one sitting between her legs right then, looking down those thighs into her skirt.

I groaned and said, "Oh god." Russel started to turn his head and I quickly leaned back into my room and closed the door. I held the door closed, holding my breath, wondering if he had noticed, wondering what I should do. I reached over and flipped off the light switch and stood still in the dark, listening, wondering if I should creep back to my bed in case he checked.

Then, I heard him say something and laugh softly and figured he was too involved with her to notice me. I twisted the doorknob quietly and opened the door again, glad the light was off now, making it harder for him to see the open door and me looking out.

Russel was definitely not looking at me. He was looking intently between her legs, sliding his hands up and down her firm thighs. She sighed, her head tilted back on the arm rest with her eyes closed. He slid his hands down her thighs, pushing her skirt up as his hands slipped beneath it. He lifted her hips up a bit and then pulled her panties down her thighs, over her knees, and over one boot, leaving them dangling off her other boot. He placed his hands on her knees and pushed her legs apart.

I looked at her face and thought she would look like she was sleeping if it wasn't for the small sounds and movements she made every time he touched her. She definitely wanted him but was too out of it to do much but let him do what he wanted. I felt my stomach tremble at that thought, picturing myself having her like his, spread open before me, wanting me, and letting me have her however I wanted.

Russel pressed his hands to her inner thighs, pushing one leg against the back of the couch and the other leg wide, both her knees in the air. He lowered his head between her legs, her skirt barely pushed up enough that he could run his tongue up her pussy slowly. She sighed and squirmed, dropping her arms back over the armrest. Russel licked up and down her pussy, the tip of his tongue pressing between her labia, flicking at her clitoris. He brought his knees under his chest to kneel between her legs, placing her knees on his shoulders, her boots laying on his back, and slid his hands under her butt and lifted up slightly to dive into her pussy, licking and sucking. Her eyes closed. She moaned and moved as if she was trying to get away from him but could barely move. Her red lips parted and she gasped as he sucked her clit between his lips and flicked it repeatedly with his tongue.