Potion Perfect

by Billie Dale

  “I’ll be careful, Ron, I promise. There will be no sending of naked pictures,” I assure her. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “Do we have time to Uber over to Subway before your study group?”

  “Class gets out at five, study groups at eight we should have time. But instead of taking an Uber how about we walk?”

  “Ten, that’s like twelve blocks. In the cold and wind, plus it’s going to be dark. You sure you want to walk? The weather’s calling for a big snowstorm tonight,” she asks, looking at me like I’ve gone insane.

  “A snowstorm? How about we get Z Place Pizza tonight instead? You call them and have them deliver at 5:30?”

  “Oh, yes,” she hums, rubbing her stomach, “Z Place Pizza, cut into those little triangles with that thin crust, covered with that tented paper, the aroma coming out the top like a pizza teepee. That sounds like a delicious idea.”

  Hugging her, I bundle up to fight the dropping temperature and head for class.

  Chemistry class goes smoothly; today’s class focusing on the chemical reactions of medications in the brain. I love learning, I think while I exit the building into the lightly falling snow. Taking a deep breath, I know it’s going to be a long cold walk back to the dorm and I forgot my umbrella.

  “Hey, Ten.”

  Wren is standing at the bottom of the steps holding an umbrella and a steaming cup of something warm that I’m hoping is for me.

  Smiling tentatively, I cautiously make my way down the slick steps, meeting him at the bottom, “Hi Wren.”

  “Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

  “That depends; are you still angry with me?” Lies, it’s all lies. I don’t have stipulations because he has an umbrella and if that drink is mine I’ll offer up my first born.

  Lowering his head, smirking, kicking an invisible rock, “Nah, I was frustrated. I can’t stay mad at you. Here, I brought you some hot chocolate as a peace offering,” he says, handing me the hot goodness.

  Holding it to my nose, its warmth fogs up my glasses while I inhale the heavenly chocolate scent.

  Taking a sip, feeling it warm me from the inside out, I look to the sky, “It’s really coming down, we better get walking,” I shiver, ducking under his offered umbrella.

  We’re silent as we walk across the empty quad. All the student staying indoors out of the cold and snow. I’m not real great with silence. “So, how ‘bout them Game Cocks?”

  “You’re asking about a sports team? Has it really gotten that awkward between us in just a few hours?” he asks through a nervous laugh.

  “Um, no I mean how’s your collection of comic books? Get any new first editions lately?”

  “Why are you rambling, Ten?”

  “I don’t know. For the first time in our lives, things feel strained between us. You would think that having sex then not having sex would have been what made things weird, but no.”

  Grabbing my gloved hand with his free one, “Stop, it’s all good. We’re good, Ten.”

  Looking up, I realize we have reached my dorm.

  “Did you get the alert that the library is closed tonight due to the storm?” he asks.

  “No, I haven’t checked my phone. No study group then?”

  Shaking his head, his eyes glistening full of hope he asks, “We could hang out at my parents instead, they’re back home visiting my brothers. We could get something to eat and watch movies, study or just hang?”

  “I promised Ronnie that we would have a girl’s night. Pizza, Netflix, pajamas,” lies, I just lied to one of my oldest friends because the hope in his eyes screamed for more than I was willing to offer.

  “How did you plan this if you didn’t know the library was closed?” he asks narrowing his eyes.

  Shit, I’m busted. Scrambling for more lies, my voice unsure I lie again, “We planned dinner first and then after study group, we were doing Netflix, but with the library closing we’ll hunker down and make it an all-nighter.” The words taste bitter leaving my mouth, I hate lying. I hate people that deceive and I don’t like becoming one of these people but being honest and telling him that I’m not as comfortable around him as I used to be, might hurt his feelings.

  “I better get back home before the roads get too bad,” he groans.

  “Maybe we can get together next week sometime?” I ask in a vain attempt to keep his friendship and meeting for coffee is a good way to stay away from him trying to have sex with me again. “Is the whole campus shut down?”

  “I think so,” he chimes happier that I offered a get together later. “That’s what the alert said. It warned everyone to stay inside. We’re expecting five to seven inches of snow,” he says pulling his umbrella away, “I’ll text you later.” With a kiss to the cheek that lingers a little longer than is friendly, he leaves.

  Guess I won’t be meeting Kohl at the gym, I think sadly, sulking up to my room.

  The smell of tomato sauce, sausage, onions, peppers and cheese assaults my nose, creating an intense stomach grumble and a feeling of glee when I enter the room. The aroma of Z Place Pizza, the best pizza in the state. If I could only have one food for the rest of my life, it would be this pizza. Hot or cold doesn’t matter, it’s a little triangle piece of heaven the moment it hits your taste buds.

  Ronnie is sitting with her nose over the tented paper, inhaling the smell coming from the little pin hole in the top. She looks like she’s praying to the pizza Gods with her legs crossed Indian style, her eyes closed and a goofy grin on her face. She’s in complete pizza Zen.

  “Let’s eat,” I sing breaking her from her trance, moving to the kitchenette to grab our plates.

  “Oh, thank God, I don’t think I could have waited for another second,” she jokes, ripping the paper from the pizza. “

  She’s on her eighth little triangle of pizza compared to my third, where the hell does this woman put all that food and why doesn’t she look like me? If I even breath in fattening food I gain weight but Ronnie keeps eating and eating. I swear she must be storing it in her big toe. Tonight, my appetite is diminished, I’m stuffed full after only three little pieces.

  Mumbling through the food in her mouth, “Did you hear that campus is shut down? It’s like the first time ever that the JSU campus has closed. Of course, there’s a frat party to celebrate it.”

  “I was supposed to meet Kohl, but with the campus being closed he won’t be able to get in the gym. Are you going to the party?” I inquire, when my phone rings from inside my coat pocket.

  Moving to where it hangs on my desk chair I see someone is wanting me to accept a new message in Messenger. I haven’t opened any social media for days, I’m leery of anything that comes through.

  “Who is it?” Ronnie asks.

  Handing her my phone, “Here, you look at it; if it’s something hateful I don’t want to see it.”

  She opens the app, reading the words, “Here you’re going to want to read this one,” she insists with a knowing smile but her eyes are wary.

  * * *

  Kohl Black:

  “I know you hate all things social media but u never gave me ur phone number. I have a key to the gym if u still want to trek out in the snow. I would love to have ur company while I kill myself working out.

  Please, please, please.

  I’ll bring u coffee and chocolate and love u and pet u and name u George.”

  * * *

  Grinning at his Bugs Bunny reference, I respond:

  * * *

  “Dah, gee. I don’t know. I think we made a wrong turn in Albuquerque.

  Yes, I will meet you at the gym.”

  * * *

  Kohl:

  “Great, I’ll be at the athletic fitness center by my dorm. See you soon, George.”

  * * *

  I can’t pry the smile from my face, for the first time in weeks something positive came from social media.

  * * *

  Kohl

  Stupid fucking snow.

  Of co
urse, today would be the day that Indiana gets slammed with a rare snow storm in November. The campus is closed; I have no way to contact Ten to let her know I’m still able to get into the gym. I should have gotten her cell number.

  Think, Black, think.

  I could walk across campus and tell her but that seems a little too eager, she already responds to me like a skittish animal, I need to play it cool. I could try to message her on Facesnap, I know she hasn’t been looking but the messenger app is different from the main app.

  What the hell, I should at least try.

  Typing out the message I need to make sure she shows up. I want to spend more time with her, talk to her; hell, just stare at her. She’s addicting. I try to keep the message light and funny when I really want to beg and plead. I hope she gets my Bugs Bunny reference.

  I hate how insecure she makes me feel. I never have trouble with women but she makes me feel like that lanky freshman trying to get a girl’s attention. When I’m talking to her all my smoothness leaves my brain. I have to keep reminding myself to be witty and flirty but also constrain my urge to wrap her in my arms and tell her she’s mine.

  Sitting on my bed, my legs bouncing up and down, I stare at my phone waiting for her reply, the three dots signaling she’s typing blink for what seems like ever increasing my anxiety.

  Laughing at her Albuquerque reply, I love how we are more alike than I thought. Fist pumping in the air like Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club happy she is still willing to meet me when Old Man Winter is kicking our ass.

  I’ve never been one to fret over a woman. Either they’re into me or they aren’t. Most of the time, they are. This woman, this girl, has me tied up in knots. I’m in foreign territory here. My body wants, my dick is always on high alert when she’s near but my brain is flashing her age like red and blue lights shining in your rear-view mirror. My dick hasn’t gotten the memo that because she doesn’t act like a teenager she is, indeed, still under eighteen.

  My first priority is getting to know everything about her. My second is finding out when she turns eighteen, even though I’m only two years older than her I still would like to wait until it is officially legal for me to ravage her body. What I would like to do and what I may actually do are sitting in different hemispheres right now.

  Packing up my duffle, I prepare for the worst. Bottles of water, a blanket, some protein bars and a flashlight in case we get stuck in the gym. I’m certain we’ll be able to still get around campus. My dorm is closer to the gym than hers, worst case scenario we would stay here for the night.

  Blue balls, a party of one.

  Can I spend the night with her and not touch all her flesh? Hopefully, we don’t have to put my restraint to the test. I’m not sure it’s a test I could pass but one I would very much enjoy failing.

  There are two fitness areas on campus, one is in the student gymnasium with a basketball court and various rooms for yoga, gymnastics, and indoor track activities. The other is by the athletic dorms.

  The campus has dorms strictly for JSU athletes to live in, two dorms for guys, two dorms for the ladies. In between the four buildings is a small fitness area exclusively accessible to all athletes, we are given a key card when we move in.

  I schedule my workouts early in the morning and late at night so I have the space to myself. I spend most of my days dragging ass but at least I don’t have to deal with people like Chase Masters during my work out. Grabbing my bag, I trek my way through the snow to the fitness center. The snow is coming down hard, we already have at least a foot on the ground making the door to the center hard to pull open.

  Getting inside, I connect my phone to the Bluetooth sound system, loading a playlist I think Ten would like but also keeps my blood pumping. The sound of 80’s rock, Back in Black, rumbles out of the speakers. I hope she likes 80’s music.

  Slipping off my pants to my shorts underneath and throwing my shirt over one of the bench press bars, I stretch my arms and legs. Checking the time, I notice she’s ten minutes late. Maybe she changed her mind, I think sadly. Grabbing my phone to message her one last time, I feel the cold air of the door opening.

  She’s here.

  Chapter Nine

  I’m not fat, I’m harder to kidnap.

  —bumper sticker

  Tensanne

  “WHAT SHOULD I wear Ronnie?” I asked staring into my bland closet. I don’t own anything that doesn’t have ugly flowers or cartoon characters on it. Fat people clothes suck. Why do designers think we want to wear Eeyore or loud flower patterns? It’s not bad enough we’re large and draw attention anyway, let’s add unflattering patterns to the mix.

  “Just be you, Ten. Why are you fretting? Wear what you have on, your yoga pants and sweatshirt. If he has a genuine interest, he won’t care what you’re wearing.”

  Noticing the time, “Shit, I’m going to be late,” I say grabbing my phone and rushing out the door as she yells, “Be careful and let me know when you get there.”

  Good god, there’s a lot of snow out here, I think forcing my feet through the thick snow. My legs freezing where the snow is coming over the top of my boots, the snow falling inside. My insides match the raging storm outside, a flurry of nerves eating at my stomach. Finally arriving at the JSU Athlete’s Fitness Center, I’m frozen to the bone with my teeth chattering and my fingers numb inside my gloves.

  Pulling with all my strength I drag the door open through the snow drift that has built in front of it, the sounds of AC/DC greets me along with a smiling, shirtless Kohl Black.

  My mouth goes dry, my tongue coming out to wet my cold, wind burned lips.

  He’s glorious.

  My eyes zone in right above his shorts at his ‘man dents’, as I like to call them, those little hip dips that develop after hours of abdominal work making my tongue rub the back of my teeth wanting to know how they would feel under it.

  My eyes work their way up a dark thin trail of black hair that cuts right through his defined six-pack to small light brown nipples surrounded by the perfect amount of chest hair. Traveling over strong bubbled pecks, up and over broad shoulders down bulging, vein popping biceps wrapped in black tribal tattoos leading to strong corded forearms ending with his large hands that easily palm a basketball. Every inch of him glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

  My body heats from the inside out, warming what was frozen as blood floods to my core creating an ache I’ve never had before.

  “You’re here,” he cheers, his bright smile turning to a frown as he takes in my shivering body and flushed face. My face flushing from the wind, cold and the hotness standing before me.

  Rushing to me he starts to undress me, removing my gloves and coat. Dropping to his knees he removes my boots and socks. What is with this man and his penchant for removing my clothing?

  “I c-c-can’t stand here with no s-socks on, it’s too c-cold,” I stutter, shivering. Rubbing his hands up and down my arms, he’s trying to heat my skin. He’s heating me—just not in the way he’s trying. My skin is still frozen on the surface but inside is a tumultuous blend of want, lust and a building need.

  My panties soak inside my cold pants. If I walked outside right now they would freeze to my pussy.

  There’s an emergency room nightmare. Yes, Doctor, I need my underwear surgically removed because I was presented with a male Adonis and I soaked my panties with my vaginal fluid in freezing temperatures and now they are frozen to my body, I smile at the thought.

  He’s pulling me somewhere, I’m sure he told me where but I was too caught up in my ER tragedy to realize what he said. Seeing lockers, benches, and showers I notice we’re in the women’s locker room.

  “Here take a hot shower and warm up,” he demands turning the knobs in one of the shower stalls.

  A hot shower sounds wonderful to my frozen skin, “T-thank you, a shower sounds great.”

  He’s still standing in front of me, smiling I tell him, “I can’t get in unless you get out.”r />
  Shifting his eyes, “Oh yes, sure. I-I’ll go get on the treadmill,” he stutters spinning on his heel, making a hasty exit. With the shape of his phenomenally tight round ass, watching him leave is almost as good as his entrance.

  Stripping down as fast as I can, I step under the hot spray, the water feels like needles hitting my chilled skin. As I thaw, thoughts of Kohl shirtless and glistening consumes my brain, my clit begins to throb and my nipples harden into diamond peaks.

  A foreign feeling builds in my lower abdomen, a fire fills my veins. The desire to be touched, teased and pleased is too great. Running my hands down my body I’m shocked at the pleasure that spikes when my palms graze my engorged, sensitive nipples. Letting the heightened sensations lead me, I knead the flesh, an image of his large hands massaging, caressing me. Trailing my hand down my belly, tentatively rubbing the part throbbing between my folds, moaning when my fingers lightly graze my engorged clit. Gasping on a moan at the bliss traveling through my veins and the tightening in my lower belly.

  I’ve never masturbated before, never felt the need to. My one sexual experience being less than stellar making me believe orgasms were all hype and no substance, I never experimented with myself.

  Thinking of Kohl’s massive fingers entering me while my own slip inside, my knees weaken forcing me to place a hand on the wall to hold myself up. Plunging one then two fingers in and out picturing his blue eyes heated with lust. Sounds leaving me I’ve never heard before, suddenly my belly tightens an insatiable itch burns in my clit prompting me to rub it with my thumb. I detonate, fireworks exploding behind my closed eyes leaving my body limp.

  Once my legs solidify, I rinse my off, realizing I don’t have a towel. Turning off the water I peek my head out of the curtain hoping there is a stack of towels somewhere in the room. I’m stunned when I notice Kohl is standing with a towel in one hand and cupping his dick in the other. Palming himself over his shorts, his eyes squinted, tightly closed, his head tipped back as his hand rubs up and down over his satin basketball shorts. I can see the outline of his cock straining hard against the fabric, the pink engorged tip sticking out just above the waist band of his shorts. His face is a combination of ecstasy and pain.