by Autumn Avery
Losing my virginity to some scrawny high school boy who would fumble around my body with no idea what he was up to was never an attractive thought. Being shown what to do by Tommy – having him lead me down a road that could only lead to mind-blowing ecstasy, is a thought I can’t shake from my mind.
I just have to say it.
“Yeah, but…can you imagine the sex?” Shannon’s eyes go wide and she looks at me like I just pulled off a Grace mask and am suddenly someone else.
“What?!” Shannon exclaims. “What the – you’re a virgin, Grace!”
“You don’t have to remind me of that.”
“You haven’t even had sex, and you’re dreaming about what it would be like to fuck Tommy!? Have you heard the stories about his dick!?”
The image of the shower encounter flashes into my mind.
“Heard about it? I’ve seen it, Shannon.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she realizes. “Have you even…I mean – how far have you gone with a guy anyway? Blowjob?”
I shake my head. She looks at me like I’m an alien.
“Okay, so just handjobs then—”
She stops when she sees me slowly shake my head. This time, she looks at me…almost like she feels bad for me.
“I know,” I say with a sigh.
“Awwww,” Shannon finally exclaims. “You are too cute.”
“Stop!” I say, getting up and pacing across the room to the window. I look out over the parking lot toward the rest of campus. It’s a huge school and there are students everywhere. A bus goes by and I realize just how far away from home I am. And for some reason, for the first time since I arrived, it excites me.
“Grace,” Shannon says behind me. “I’m just looking out for you. You know that, right? It’s not like I’m jealous or anything – okay, maybe I’m a little jealous that Tommy thinks you’re a hottie, but I just don’t want you to get hurt. I think you should stay away.”
She’s right. She is. Just because I’m away from home, at a new school, excited to try new things and am being hit on by the number one stud in school, doesn’t mean that I should throw all reason out the window and listen to my vagina.
Biceps and abs only get you so far. Maybe if I had already given away my V-card it would be different, but my first time should be special. I have so many friends from back home that ended up drunk in the back seat with some older guy who didn’t care about them, and they regretted the whole thing immediately after.
How will I feel if I end up at some party with Tommy and lose my virginity in some dirty bathroom or on the floor in the back room or quickly in his room while his roommate is out? And how will I feel when I text him the next day and never get a response?
No, Shannon is right. I have to put aside my animalistic desires and listen to reason.
Tommy Mason is off limits!
10
Grace
Grace
* * *
The walk to sociology is extra long today, and not just because I had stats on the other end of campus. It’s because I’m dreading seeing Tommy.
My research partner…what a disaster. How am I going to get anything done when I’m sitting next to those muscled shoulders and arms? Maybe I can convince him to wear baggy sweatpants and a parka every day to class so I don’t have to look at him. But that doesn’t solve the issue of his male model face. Maybe I can get him a Yoda mask.
I’m sticking to my guns though. I don’t care what he says or how many sneaky glances he shoots at my tits. Shannon talked sense into me and I know what I have to do. I even did something this morning to guarantee I don’t give into my primal desires when I get to class. I masturbated in the shower.
It’s been a while since I did that, but I knew I had to get my hormones under control somehow. I’ve never really been into doing that regularly. My friend Kelly back home was way into porn and sex toys and loved telling us all about what we should be doing and what ones we should buy.
You could say I’m the complete opposite of that.
I’ve never been into porn and the most I think I’ve ever masturbated in one week is twice. It’s not like I’m some sort of prude – I just want intimacy. I want another human being, that cares about me, to caress me and touch me and explore my body while I explore his and I want to know we’re both doing it together.
But I woke up this morning and knew something had to be done.
I know guys sometimes wake up with morning wood, and I guess I woke up with the lady equivalent. My hormones were taking over like an invading foreign army and Tommy was leading the charge. If I didn’t do something before sociology I think I might have just let him take me right there in the lecture hall in front of everybody.
So I grabbed my towel, headed to the shower, praying he wasn’t in there like before, and took care of business.
I tried not to picture him while I did it. I tried not to think about anyone or anything and just focus on myself. It was a job that needed to be done and that was it. I got a couple of flashes of his naked body and that monster hanging between his legs, and almost gave up out of frustration. But eventually, I was able to get myself there without too many X-rated thoughts about Tommy.
I consider it a small victory.
But there’s only so much a little tickle in the shower by yourself can do to suppress your urges, and mine are starting to come back as I walk across campus. I’m starting to debate actually skipping, but that’s not a longterm solution, and I don’t want to miss the second day of class. What would my professor think?
No, this is something I need to start dealing with. I have an entire semester to get through. I grit my teeth and try to think about nothing as I finish my walk to the sociology building. I funnel into the hallway with the rest of the students, my eyes darting through the crowd for Tommy’s broad shoulders. But I don’t see him.
I step into the lecture hall with everyone else and find a seat close to the one I had last time and take a deep breath. It feels hot in here, but it’s probably just me. My heart isn’t racing, but it’s definitely warming up for an event.
The rest of the class filters in and I check my phone. Three minutes until start.
Where is he!?
A girl who looks like she just rolled out of bed with a hangover tries to take the seat beside me, but I stop her. “Sorry, my partner’s sitting here.”
She looks at me with that, “seriously?” look, but turns around and takes a seat by the wall. I take a deep breath and check my phone. Class is about to start and he’s not here! Someone takes the seat on the other side of me and I set my bag on the empty chair to my left. I don’t know why I think it’s necessary for him to sit next to me. We won’t be doing research while class is going on.
And then Professor Gengris walks in.
“Hello, hello, hello,” she says confidently, setting her bag down on the large table at the head of the hall. “Everyone having a good start to the year? Studying hard, I’m sure? Staying in, getting your work done?”
That draws some laughs throughout the hall. Half the freshman look lost and the other half look like they’re still drunk.
“Okay, I’ll go easy on you today,” she says. She starts talking about immigration and groups that have come to the United States and why, but I’m zoning out.
Where is he?!
My hand tightens around my pen as I absentmindedly take down the notes from the board. After all that’s been on my mind, how nervous I’ve been to come to class today, and he doesn’t even show up? What a dick!
Such a superstar move. Tommy Mason doesn’t need to go to class. Why would he? I’m starting to get the full picture now. I’m sure the school has told all the professors to go easy on him. He’s a star basketball player on his way to the pros. There’s no way they’re going to risk losing him because of a bad grade in sociology. I roll my eyes. No wonder he thinks he’s the king. And what’s worse, I realize, is that this means I’ll be doing the research paper by myself.
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I feel the anger rising inside me, but I realize it’s probably a good thing. Maybe this will be exactly what I need to make sure I don’t give in to Tommy and stick to my guns. The more he pisses me off, the easier it will be. Right?
But I wonder…what is he doing right now?
11
Tommy
Tommy
* * *
I drain a three over Chad like it’s the easiest thing in the world – because it is.
“Count it!” I shout, letting my hand hang in the air above his head as he frowns in defeat. Chad’s been telling me since last year he’s gonna block one of my shots, but he’s dreaming. Not only is he shorter than me, but he’s not as quick and probably won’t play ball after college. I like to fuck with him.
I jog back down the court to get on defense and give Chad a big grin followed by the finger. He gives me one back and I chuckle.
“Show me what you got, buddy,” I shout after him. Chad takes the inbound pass and comes straight down the court at me. He’s pissed and he’s gonna do his best to put a move on me.
“Quit fuckin’ around, you two!” Coach Carter shouts from the bench.
But Chad’s not listening. He heads right for me and tries a crossover, but it’s his go-to move and it’s obvious. I swipe the ball right out from under him and head down court. He’s not fast enough to catch me and I’ve got a good lead. I launch from just past the free throw line and dunk it like a boss.
I land and turn around and give him another grin and a shrug.
I almost feel bad as we get back to the game, but not about schooling Chad on who the bigger man is on the team. But for bailing on Grace. I know she’s gonna be pissed about me not showing up to sociology, but coach called an extra practice today, so what’s a guy to do?
Ball takes priority. That’s what I’m going to do for at least the next fifteen years of my life. I’m not going to be a sociology professor or a math whiz or a scientist. I’m going to be blowing away the competition on the court, making millions of dollars.
I suppose I could have let Grace know I wouldn’t be showing up, but I don’t even have her e-mail or her phone number yet, and I wasn’t about to go knocking on her door and get a face full of shit from that roommate of hers.
I’m sure I’ll run into her later back at the dorm where I’ll explain things. And if she gives me shit about it – well, too bad. I don’t owe anybody anything. I come from Bridgeport, a rough town that not many people make it out of. Basketball saved my life.
My pops left when I was young. I don’t remember much about him other than a few images here and there. People are always asking me if I hate him, but I barely knew the guy. How could I hate him? I used to wish I had a dad when I was younger, but as I got older and saw so many of my friends’ dads bail on them, or their parents get divorced, I convinced myself that it was probably for the best that he left when he did.
My mom is a saint. If him leaving upset her, she never let me see it. She never even cried in front of me – about anything. She’s a strong woman and worked two jobs to support me, selling shoes at a local store and waitressing at night, and still found time to get me back and forth to practice and my games.
Once I make it big, the first thing I’m going to do is buy her a big fucking house with a nice car and get her out of that town. Somewhere in the countryside. She used to ride horses when she was a girl but had to give it up thanks to life. I’d love to get her a place where she could keep horses and get back into it. She’s done enough for me.
Nothing is going to get in the way of my success.
I crush the rest of practice like I usually do and head to the showers.
“Yo, what are we up to tonight?” Joey shouts at me from his locker as I finish up.
“You’re an animal, Joey,” I say as I finish toweling off and grab my briefs.
“Dover House again?” Joey suggests. “I hear Alpha Phi Ki Ki Ki or whatever is having a rager.”
“Are those the girls who wear skirts and heels in the winter?” I ask. One of the sororities around here has super strict hot chick dress code and you can always spot them with their tote bags and skirts and heels trudging through the snow, even after three feet got dumped on us in a storm. Now that’s commitment.
“Yeah, dude,” Joey says with a grin.
“Aren’t you gonna piss off Cindy if she finds out you went to a sorority party?” I tease him. The chances of Joey ever seeing Cindy again are about as high as me switching careers to astronomy.
“Actually,” Joey chimes in with a tone that actually grabs my interest. “Turns out – Cindy’s a bit of a freak.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”
“Turns out she’s not only into guys – but girls as well,” he says with a devilish smile. “Maybe I’ll bring her along and we can pick one of the girls to take home together.”
“Shit, man,” I say, shaking my head. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.”
“Maybe I’ll ask that chick from our floor if you can’t close the deal—”
Before I even realize what I’ve done, I’ve got my hand around Joey’s shirt and have him slammed up against the lockers.
“Hey!” I shout. “Watch it, man. Fucking watch it.”
I grit my teeth and have to fight the urge not to knock his teeth down his throat. And this is Joey, my good buddy.
But something about him even suggesting that Grace would be into him, or having a fucking threesome with his big fake tittied bimbo girlfriend, just threw me into a frenzy. Grace is a fucking virgin who blushed at the sight of a naked guy. She’s not some party slut you can just do what you want with.
“Chill the fuck out!” Joey shouts at me, struggling to free himself from my grip. “What is wrong with you?”
I get ahold of myself and let go. Joey straightens himself up and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Just – don’t talk about her that way, dude. She’s not some random slut.”
“Okay, okay,” Joey grumbles. “Jesus. I didn’t realize you’d fallen in love.”
Joey grabs his bag and heads out. On his way out the door he calls over his shoulder.
“I’ll be at that sorority party tonight. I’ll see you there – if you can get your shit together.”
He’s right though. What the fuck is wrong with me? This is not Tommy Mason behavior. I don’t get stuck on girls, even the ones I sleep with. Keep it moving, that’s my philosophy.
But this chick, Grace – maybe she’s a witch or something. It’s like she’s cast a spell on me. I slip into my t-shirt and shoulder my bag and as I walk out of the locker room I realize…
I’ve got a serious problem.
12
Grace
Grace
* * *
I’m steaming.
Stood up! I was stood up by Tommy Mason, and it wasn’t even for a date! But somehow that’s worse. If this becomes a pattern, he’s going to have to answer to me! If he thinks I’m going to just do our entire research project on my own, on mass media and social media, he’s sorely mistaken.
I’d rather let our grade tank than be his slave.
Thankfully, Shannon isn’t here right now. I’d love to have someone to rant to, but I know she’d only get me even more fired up and want to kill him. As stupid as it sounds, if Tommy ever comes around, and that’s a big if, and something happens between us, I can’t have Shannon wanting to stab him in the back.
But what am I thinking? Nothing Tommy has done so far has made me think anything about him other than the fact that he’s a narcissistic asshole with no regard for anyone or anything that doesn’t relate to basketball or his dick. I bet he’s been spoiled his whole life, probably comes from some rich family who sent him to private school and had tutors paid to do his homework so he could play basketball all day.
I worked my butt off through high school to get into UCONN, and I was only able to go thanks to my academic scholarship
s. My mom’s an elementary school teacher and my dad’s a mechanic. We’ve never had much money and people who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth and walk around letting the rest of the world know, really piss me off.
The window’s open and I can smell smoke from the parking lot. It makes me want to barf. I can’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke. Who even smokes these days? I slam the window shut, open the door and turn on the fan. Shannon has some sort of apple cinnamon scented candles from the co-op and I light one and slump down in my chair.
I’m pouting. So what? I have all the reason in the world to do so!
“See anything you like?” His words ring in my head and make me want to ring his neck.
Where is he!?
I stand up, pace the room and like a little girl, smack my hand down on my bed.
Probably out partying. Is he really that vapid? I’d like to think not. I don’t know why, but I’d like to think there’s more to him than the stereotypical bro that “bangs bitches” and pounds brewskies.
But maybe it’s better if there isn’t. Then I wouldn’t be worried about having feelings for him.
I sit on my bed for a while, stewing in my own misery, just picturing him out at a party, beer in hand, chatting up some bimbo with a tight top who is just so excited to meet Tommy Mason! And I just can’t take it anymore.
I launch to my feet and stride down the hall toward his room. He’s probably not in, but if he is, he’s about to get an earful. I raise my hand and pound on his door. And wait.
“Tommy!” I shout, pounding on the door again. “Tommy!?”
Behind me, I hear another door open and a guy who looks like he’s just been woken up from a nap pokes his head out.
“He’s not there,” he mutters. “He’s at the Alpha fucking Phi Ki or whatever house party.”