by E. J. Adams
“Pretty good. Advanced Econometrics will be interesting. I'm excited about the pre-law classes. How was your first day?”
“Great. I already have a jump on my senior thesis. I'm going to examine the use of digital and social media in the fashion industry. It should round out my portfolio nicely. I want to use it when recruiters for Jacqueline magazine come to campus in the spring,” I said.
I was majoring in Fashion Media. My dream job was to work in media relations at a top fashion magazine. My first choice was Jacqueline. They were headquartered in Manhattan. A bonus to landing a job at Jacqueline is that Chelsea would be in New York at Columbia. Well, I was assuming. Chelsea was pretty much a lock on getting into Columbia Law School.
“Awesome,” said Chelsea. “Hey, isn't the school having a big fundraiser later in the year? You should volunteer.”
“Already have,” I replied. “I wouldn't have been able to attend college without a scholarship, so I want to help. Plus it might help me stand out in applying for a job at Jacqueline.”
Jacqueline was part of Davenport Media. Both were founded by Jacqueline Davenport, the namesake of, and biggest donor to, Davenport School of the Arts at Santa Barbara University. Davenport School of the Arts housed the Fashion Media program.
“It also doesn't hurt that Mr. Sexy CEO is rumored to make an appearance at the fundraiser,” Chelsea teased.
Mr. Sexy CEO, as Chelsea referred to him, was Brandon Mitchell, the CEO of Davenport Media. He was the billionaire grandson of Jacqueline Davenport.
He was also one of the sexiest men alive. Literally. He had been named that by several magazines. That only confirmed what pretty much every woman alive already knew. I had an innocent crush on him.
“My day was pretty good, too,” said Phil.
“Jealous much?” asked Chelsea.
“Of Brandon Mitchell? No. What does he have that I don't?” asked Phil defiantly.
“You really want to go there?” asked Chelsea.
“Why don't we finish our pizza and head over to Big Scoops for some ice cream?” I asked, trying to stave off more conflict.
“Great idea,” said Chelsea.
Ashley Sullivan, peacemaker.
We finished our pizza and headed to Big Scoops for dessert. I had Cookie Dough, Chelsea had Mint Chocolate Chip, and Phil had Chocolate. When we finished, Chelsea headed back to our apartment to study.
Phil and I had spent the afternoon getting our work done so we could spend the evening together. Sex always served as a nice reward.
Chapter Four
Chelsea and I shared a small two bedroom apartment in an off-campus complex for upperclassman. It was right next to campus, so a short bike ride or drive to Phil's. He lived in a frat house on campus. Most of his frat brothers were jerks. I didn't like staying in his room, but I wanted to give Chelsea some peace and quite at our place.
Phil and I dropped Chelsea off at the apartment. I grabbed some clothes and the books I needed for the morning. Phil and I then headed over to his place.
As we pulled up in front of the frat house there was already a party going on.
“Seriously? Already?” I said.
“Hey, my brothers worked hard today. They deserve to let loose a little.”
“Worked hard? Today was the first day of classes.”
“So? They're celebrating the start of a new academic year,” Phil said with a grin as he opened his car door.
“Any excuse to get wasted,” I said with disdain as I got out of the car. I knew not to wait for Phil to open the door for me. We were long past that. Actually, it lasted all of two dates. Why was I with Phil? Oh yeah, irresistible bad boy that offers pretty amazing sex.
I doubted that Phil and I had much of a future together, but our relationship worked well enough for college. Well, most of the time it had. Lately, he had become less interested in spending time together. Maybe I had as well.
We didn't have a ton in common. I think we were getting bored of each other. Except for the sex. The sex, as I have noted, was pretty amazing. At least compared to Stephen. Which was my only point of reference.
I was a virgin until my Freshman year in college when I gave my cherry to Stephen. Phil lost his virginity at sixteen and got a lot of practice from that moment on. He had an edge to him that was attractive after my break up with Stephen. I'll admit that it didn't hurt that Phil is a really nice looking guy.
He is nearly six feet tall with an athletic build. He has short, dirty blond hair and green eyes that are cool, and at the same time, sexy and inviting. He's a star pitcher for the university baseball team. He's good enough that he will probably be drafted by a minor league team.
I took his right hand in my left as we walked up the front path to the house. His right arm was his pitching arm, so he had a very firm grip. It came in handy in the bedroom.
He knew how to expertly handle a baseball and, surprisingly, he was able to translate that into fondling my breasts. He liked to say that my perky b-cup breasts were softer, fleshier, versions of a baseball. Sounds strange, I know, but from him it was a compliment of the highest order.
“Hey bro,” said one of Phil's asshole frat brothers, already three-sheets to the wind.
“Bro,” replied Phil with a nod.
As we walked into the house, the living room was filled with a bunch of Phil's beer swilling frat buddies and an assortment of girls. A few of the girls were already stripped down to their bra and panties as they stumbled around the room looking to get laid. There were plenty of willing guys fighting over who would do the honor. I knew some of the girls and I suspected they had enough to go around.
“Let's get upstairs before this turns into a drunken orgy,” said Phil.
He may have been a bit of a bad-ass, and certainly liked to party, but Phil wasn't into plowing drunk chicks or group sex. That put him above the majority of his frat brothers.
We made our way past a crowd on the stairs and down the hall to Phil's bedroom. Fortunately it was at the end of the hallway, so the noise of the party was somewhat muted. Phil locked the door so a drunken couple wouldn't stumble in looking for a bed to have sex on. We had already claimed his bed for that. The sex part anyway.
I had to admit, Phil looked good. Better than good. He was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged him perfectly. He had on a Santa Barbara University Baseball t-shirt that formed nicely to his build. He kicked off his sneakers and plopped onto the bed.
“Say Ash?” he asked.
“Yeah?” I said.
“You really think that Brandon Mitchell is so hot?” Phil asked with a hint of jealousy in his voice.
It was unusual for Phil to express jealousy. He seemed mostly indifferent to my innocent little crush.
“Are you seriously jealous?”
“Jealous is probably too strong a word. I just don't like the idea of you thinking about some other guy.”
“Phillip, it's just a silly little celebrity crush. I mean, he is rather a celebrity seeing as how he dates all those actresses and super models.”
“I suppose,” Phil offered, half shrugging his shoulders.
“You mean to tell me you don't have the hots for any gorgeous celebrity women?”
“I don't know.”
“Yes you do. Who is it?”
“Alright, I get it. Stupid, meaningless, celebrity crush. I'll drop it,” he said.
“You're right. It is a meaningless celebrity crush. But, now I'm curious about who your crush is. Fess up, Mr. Reed,” I said as I playfully smacked his arm.
“Hey, watch it! Can't mess up the golden arm,” he teased.
There were certainly lighter moments with Phil. I guess that is what kept us together. That, and the sex. Have I mentioned the pretty amazing sex yet? Don't get the wrong impression of me. I'm not particularly experienced and I've only ever had fairly vanilla sex. But I enjoyed it with Phil.
“Megan Fox is pretty hot,” Phil finally stated.
“So, does thinking Megan Fox is hot det
ract from how you look at me?”
“No. Of course not. You can be pretty sexy when you want to be.”
“When I want to be?” I asked with a grin.
“You know what I mean. Ash, you are really pretty. You can turn on the sexy with the best of them. You just don't fully realize it.”
“Better answer,” I said.
“Well, I don't want to risk my pitching arm to your wrath.”
“It's not my wrath you need to be concerned about,” I replied.
“Chelsea,” we both said and then laughed.
“For such a babe, she can be scary,” Phil added.
“Very true. And pay no mind to what a babe Chelsea is. Concentrate on the chick that is sitting on your bed.”
“Don't I always?” he asked as he leaned in to kiss me.
“You better. Or Chelsea Richards will hunt you down and do unspeakably painful things to your balls,” I said with a giggle.
“Yes. And I prefer what you do to my balls.”
We shared a deep and long kiss. I noticed that the front of Phil's jeans were beginning to bulge. His firmness meant that it was game on. I liked game night.
Chapter Five
Phil's hands moved quickly and he clawed at my shirt to pull it loose from my jeans. I paused our kissing and pulled my shirt off. As I removed my shirt, Phil unbuttoned my jeans and slid down my zipper. I stood and dropped my jeans to the floor.
I had on a pink bra and panties set. Nothing fancy. No lace or frills. Phil didn't care about those things. He was always in a rush to get me naked.
Phil also stood and removed his shirt and pants. His cock was straining against his briefs. He pulled his underwear off and his penis popped up. I had only ever seen Stephen and Phil naked. Their equipment was about the same size, and bigger than average, but Phil used his better.
I enjoyed the sex with Phil more than I had with Stephen. However, according to Chelsea, I hadn't really experienced anything yet. She regaled me with stories of mind-blowing sex with over-the-top orgasms.
Most of the time I had faked it with Stephen. The opposite was true with Phil. But I was still waiting for the type of orgasms that Chelsea had experienced on occasion.
Phil opened his desk drawer and pulled out a string of condom packages. He smiled at me.
“Definitely one. Maybe two. But I don't think we'll need all of those tonight,” I said.
He separated three and put the rest back in the drawer. “Always good to have an extra,” he said as he tore open one of the packages and placed the other on top of the desk next to the bed.
He pulled the condom out of the package and placed it on his crown. He pinched the tip of the condom and rolled the rest down his hard shaft. He turned toward me and took me in his arms. His erection pressed against my stomach. Phil leaned in and kissed me.
As we kissed, he reached around my back and unclasped my bra. He slid the straps off my shoulders and my soft, milky white breasts were free. Phil traced his fingers along the pink flesh of my nipples. They began to firm under the influence of his touch.
I reached down and pulled my panties off. I was already a little wet. I guess I was hornier than I had realized.
Phil reached down with his pitching hand and ran it through the curls of my sex.
“The only thing that feels better than the fresh cut lawn of a baseball field,” he said as he let his fingers glide through my bushy patch. Some guys like their women shaved. Phil was definitely a guy who liked hair to run his fingers through.
We moved closer to the bed and reclined on top of the mattress. Phil moved his mouth over mine. His breath was hot and sweet. He devoured my mouth and began to work his tongue inside. I had dated guy in high school, Jeremy, who was a great kisser. Phil was up there with Jeremy.
The tips of our tongues twirled around one another and our breathing became heavier as our excitement grew. Phil's hand moved back onto my crotch. I felt his digit slide under my folds. He pressed it against my clit and I moaned with pleasure. After pleasuring my swelling, he withdrew his digit and rolled his body on top of mine.
Phil rested most of his weight on his elbows, but he was pressed on top of me. My breasts pressing into his chest. I spread my legs wide. I grabbed his cock in my hand and guided him into the burning heat between my legs.
I let out a cry as his penis penetrated into my slit and he pushed into me.
“Tell me you want it, baby,” Phil demanded.
“I want it. I want you deep inside me,” I moaned.
Phil began pumping his hips. With each thrust he buried his manhood deeper into me.
“Oh, I love fucking your wet pussy,” he moaned as he thrust harder and faster.
I could feel the blood pulsing through the veins of Phil's enlarged penis as he filled and stretched the walls of my sex. I raked my hands over Phil's back. I clawed at him with my finger nails and it spurred him to thrust harder.
Phil was pounding into me with both speed and force. Pleasure was building inside of me and I could tell that Phil was about to explode. I hoped he held it just a little longer. I wanted to reach climax and come together. He fulfilled my wish.
Phil collapsed on top of me. We were breathing hard. My breasts were heaving. Our bodies glistened with sweat. He withdrew and removed his condom and threw it in the trash.
“So, do we get to use another?” he asked as he nodded toward the other two condom packets on top of the desk.
“Okay. One more.” I said.
Phil's face widened with a smile. He grabbed another condom and tore open the foil package. Within seconds he was ready and plunged deep into me for a second round.
Chapter Six
The alarm on my iPhone was buzzing. I reached and felt around for it on the small table on my side of Phil's bed. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to get out of bed.
Thud! Damn. I had knocked my phone onto the floor. Now I had to get out of bed. I forced my eyes open. I sat up and swung my legs out of bed. I bent over and picked up my phone. I silenced the alarm.
“What the hell?” groaned a groggy Phil.
“Sorry. I knocked my phone off the table. You probably should get up anyway. What time is your first class?”
“Not until ten,” he said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Seven,” I replied.
“Seven?! I still have almost three hours before I need to leave.”
“I said I was sorry. I have an 8:30 class this morning. I'll make it up to you,” I said as I kissed Phil on the forehead.
“A repeat of last night would be a good start,” he said as he playfully smacked my ass.
“I think that can be arranged. But not tonight. I have a meeting of the fundraiser committee and then I'm tutoring a girl in English Lit.”
“That sucks. How about a quickie before you leave?” he said as he reached toward me.
“Don't have time. I need to shower, dress, and eat. And being late to class isn't an option, so don't even suggest it.”
Phil flopped back onto his pillow and rolled over onto his side. “Text me tomorrow when you are free,” he said.
Then he pulled the covers over his head.
“Okay. Bye . . .” I said a bit annoyed.
“What?” I heard his muffled question from under the sheet.
“Look, I know this isn't an 'I love you forever' sort of relationship, but you could at least give me a kiss goodbye and tell me to have a nice day. I'm not just some roll in the hay,” I said.
Phil pushed the sheet off and sat back up.
“Fine. I'm sorry.” He leaned toward me.
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“There. Was that so hard?” I asked as I grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom to take my shower.
“Nope,” was all he said as he curled up under the covers again. “Oh, yeah, have a nice day,” he called out.
Was Phil the man of my dreams? No. And we both knew it. We both knew that
we weren't going to have our happily ever after with each other. I didn't know how much longer we were going to keep our relationship, or what we had of one, going. I guess we both figured we would enjoy it until graduation.
Nonetheless, I didn't want to be dismissed like I was just some booty call. We may not have had much more than that, but it was certainly more. I was willing to accept it for what it was. To a point.
I showered and dressed. I grabbed my book bag and headed out. Phil was sleeping like a baby. I could never go back to sleep once I was awake in the morning. Phil had no problem. I hoped that he would be able to drag himself out of bed for his 10:00 class.
I made my way through the house to the front door. I assumed most of the fraternity were sleeping off their first bender of the school year. It was incredible that many of these guys were actually on track to graduate.
As I stepped outside, there was a gentle and warm breeze blowing in from the Pacific Ocean. I absolutely loved living in Santa Barbara. I would miss it when I had to move away to start the next chapter of my life. But I still had the rest of my senior year to enjoy it.
My cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message. It was Chelsea.
Chelsea: Have a good night?
Me: Yeah. Pretty good? U?
Chelsea: lot of reading for econometrics. U free for lunch?
Me: Yes. Meet at Commons, 12:30?
Chelsea: perfect. See u later.
I headed off to class. By the time 12:30 rolled around I was pretty hungry. I met up with Chelsea in the Commons. They had a nice selection. More like a mall food court than a school cafeteria. We each got chicken Cesar salads.
“So, how was sex last night?” asked Chelsea once we were seated.
“Gee, we're going right to that?”
“Look, I was studying all night. I have to live vicariously through you,” Chelsea replied as she forked some chicken and lettuce.
“Now there's a switch! Chelsea Richards living vicariously through me,” I said with a grin.
“Okay. We've established that you got laid last night and I spent the evening with my Advanced Econometrics textbook.”