The Freshman

by Monica Murphy

  Yeah, that’s the danger zone. And while I’m on the pill, I’m not about to get an STD—I don’t care if he claims he’s a virgin, I totally believe him, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m all about double protection.

  No babies for me. I saw that cute little baby earlier and those cute little babies who are her parents. No thank you. Sometimes I’m not even sure if I want to have children.

  Tony got all serious a few minutes ago. Talking about how we’re beyond friends. I agreed with him. It’s always felt like that between us. I’m the one who pushed him away, who insisted we were friends and nothing more. I was fooling myself. Trying to convince myself we couldn’t be anything else.

  But he just proved me wrong. And I’m now lying here, watching him slip that condom on, my entire body tingling in anticipation of having him inside of me. I only just came what…fifteen minutes ago? My body is already raring to go.

  This is how badly I want him.

  He kisses me, and I drown in his taste. He presses his body on top of mine and I welcome it, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. He’s so hot, and so hard. Everywhere. Not an ounce of fat on his body, where I worry that I might be a little soft in a few places.

  He doesn’t notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t mind. That’s another thing I’ve learned. Women worry about their bodies when they get naked for a man for the first time, and men could give a shit. They’re so eager with sex on the brain, they don’t see the flaws. They only recognize the good stuff.

  Tony has plenty of good stuff. Like his thick cock between us, nudging against my pussy. I spread my legs, and he settles in between them, lifting up so he can slide his hand in between us. He grabs hold of the base of his cock, guiding himself inside of me, and he slowly pushes inside.

  “Oh fuck,” he whispers harshly, and I lift my hips, sending him deeper. “Jesus.”

  I open my eyes to find his tightly closed as he’s braced above me. I know it must feel good. He looks positively pained.

  And he’s not moving.

  I lift my hips again, trying to give him a hint and he remains still, his eyes cracking open. “Afraid if I move, I’ll come.”

  “You won’t.” I reach up and touch his cheek, my fingers streaking down the side of his stubble-covered face. “You already came once.”

  “And I feel close to coming again.” He shifts his hips forward, sending him deeper and I close my eyes, arching my body beneath his with a moan.

  He’s fully inside me now. I can feel him. Throbbing. Hot. He’s large. Maybe the largest?

  Okay, yes. He’s definitely the biggest.

  We start to move together, finding a rhythm. He breathes deep, trying to control himself, and while I appreciate him doing this, considering he is trying to make sure I find my pleasure too, I also want to see him lose control.

  Become rattled. Wild. Overcome with need. He’s always so calm. So composed. I want him to unleash on me. And I want to know that I’m the only one he loses control with.

  I hook my legs around his hips and cling to him. Wrap my hand around his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His mouth is ravenous, the kiss becoming rougher, more out of control. He nips at my lower lip with his teeth. Thrusts his tongue against mine. Groans for every whimper that escapes me. He moves faster, his hips slapping against mine, our sweaty skin sticking together. He fucks and fucks, and I want to say so badly, “Look at how good you’re doing!” but I don’t.

  He’d probably think that was condescending.

  It’s true though. He’s practically an expert for this being his first time. It’s as if he knows just where to touch me, and just how to move. There are no awkward shifts, no weird grabs. Maybe that’s because we’ve taken the time to know each other, versus jumping into the sex thing headfirst.

  Maybe there’s something to the ‘let’s be friends and eventually turn into lovers’ thing after all.

  I realize when his entire body grows tense, his thrusts turning deeper that he’s close. I squeeze my inner walls around him in a rhythmic motion. The startled groan that leaves him tells me he’s just about to fall over the edge.

  Within seconds, Tony comes with a ragged shout, holding himself over me, his body shaking. I hold him close, opening my eyes to watch him. His mouth hangs open, his eyes shut tight, high color on his cheeks, the tendons in his neck strained.

  He’s beautiful when he comes.

  Without warning, he collapses on top of me, his lungs heaving, his breath hot against my cheek. “God damn, what did you do there at the end?”

  “It’s a special little trick,” I tease, stroking his sweat coated back.

  “Fuck. I tried to last as long as I could.” He rubs his nose along my jaw, making me shiver. “Did you come?”

  “No.” And I’m not even mad about it.

  He lifts away from me, frowning. “Really?”

  “I already did,” I say lightly.

  “Yeah, but I was hoping you would come again.”

  “I wasn’t so fixed on myself just now.” I reach up to caress his cheek. “I was more focused on you.”

  “That’s just wrong.” He turns his head, dropping a kiss on my palm in the sweetest gesture. My heart literally pangs. “Let’s go again.”

  “Again?” I raise my brows, surprised.

  “I have twenty-three condoms left.” He grins. “And plenty of lost time to make up for.”

  Tony wasn’t lying. By the time I’m entering my apartment the next morning, I’m deliciously sore and almost deliriously exhausted. I stop short when I spot Gracie sitting on the couch, clutching a Starbucks to-go cup and scrolling through her phone.

  “There you are,” she says, her gaze still glued to her phone. “Good morning.”

  I shut the door and lean against it. “Why aren’t you in class?”

  She shrugs. “I skipped. Nothing much going on in there anyway. Plus, I have an A.”

  Gracie is one of those annoying people who can miss all the lectures and somehow ace the test. Or write the perfect paper. I’d kill for her ability to do that.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here.” I collapse on the couch beside her.

  “I made Robin drop me off. Last night after we talked.” She glances over at me. “I ended it with him.”

  Thank God.

  I try my best to keep my expression neutral. “Are you okay?”

  She nods. Looks away. Sips from her cup. “It was the right thing to do.”

  “He was in the middle of cheating on you with another woman, so yeah. Definitely the right thing to do,” I say drolly, wishing I had a Starbucks of my own.

  “That was the problem. And the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if there had been other girls too. Would there continue to be girls? Probably. It doesn’t matter if they’re good or not—some women just want to get with a rock star,” Gracie says with disgust.

  “You’ve never been with a rock star before,” I point out. “Until Robin.”

  “I never even had sex with him,” she says on a sigh. “We messed around some, but nothing serious. Mostly kissing. He’s the kind of guy who kisses you for approximately two minutes, then presses his hand on your head, trying to force you into a blow job.”

  “Ugh.” I shake my head, our gazes meeting just before we burst into laughter.

  We’ve both been with those types of guys. Only thinking of their pleasure, never about ours. I swear there’s some sort of contest among the dudes on campus titled, “How Many Blow Jobs Can I Get?” All they can think about are their dicks.

  “You spent the night with Tony?” she asks once our laughter has calmed down.

  I nod. Smile dreamily.

  “You don’t have to say a word. I can tell by the look on your face that you had a good night with him,” she says.

  “I did. Oh God.” I slap my hands over my face. “I think I have a crush.”

  “Isn’t it a little beyond a crush by now?”

  “I don’t know. Is it? I
really didn’t want to do this with him. Well, I did. I always did, but then again, I knew it would be trouble. He’s so sweet and thoughtful.” Sexy, with a talented mouth and sure hands. Even a little rough. Once he got over the initial this is my first-time stage fright, he really got into it, making sure I was satisfied. And I was all for it, letting him use and abuse me.

  Not that he literally did either of those things, but anyway.

  “So he’s good in bed?” Gracie lifts her brows.

  I nod. Blush. Shrug.

  “You have nothing to say about his skill set?” She sounds surprised.

  I usually have so much to say. I blab all the details after my encounters with guys to Gracie. We like to discuss and dissect. Compare notes.

  Right now, though, I want to keep what Tony and I shared last night to myself. It’s mine to savor and think about.

  The smile on her face is slow. Sly. “You must really like this guy.”

  “No. I don’t know. I just want to keep it casual. That’s been my plan since the beginning.” I have to sit on my hands so I don’t cover my face with them again. Why am I like this? And why is Tony affecting me this way?

  I don’t get it.

  “You want to know what I’ve been doing this morning?” Gracie asks.

  I’m so grateful for her subject change, I could almost weep with relief. “Tell me.”

  “Stalking Caleb on social media.” She flips her phone in my direction, so I can see his Instagram profile. “Why am I doing this? Why do I care? Because he’s cute? I cannot deny he’s cute. And muscular. His shoulders are so broad. Did you see how easily he lifted me on those shoulders last night? His head was basically in my crotch, and I was bouncing up and down, screaming over another guy, and he never complained once.”

  “Probably has something to do with that ‘his head is in your crotch’ thing,” I say, grabbing her phone so I can scan his photo grid. It’s not much. He literally has ten photos posted and that’s it. Mostly football pics. A graduation photo of him and his friends. I zoom in on it, staring at a fresh-faced Tony wearing a giant smile on his face, clad in a navy blue graduation gown.

  He looks so cute, my heart skips a beat.

  “Who’s the girl?” Gracie asks, her face directly over my shoulder as we stare at the grad photo. Yep, there’s a girl. There’s a couple of them, but one is standing right next to Caleb, gazing up at him as he smiles for the camera. “She’s adorable. I hate her.”

  I tap the photo and she’s tagged. “Her name is Baylee.”

  “Why didn’t I check to see if it’s tagged? I’m an idiot,” Gracie groans. “Go to her profile.”

  I do exactly that. She’s posted a lot. An endless stream of photos. She was a cheerleader. Cute and bubbly looking.

  “Probably an ex-girlfriend,” I finally say. There is no evidence of photos of them together, which tells me if they were together, she deleted or archived them all when they broke up.

  “Why do I feel jealous? I have no reason to be jealous.” Gracie scowls. “I don’t even like him.”

  “They have no photos together alone, so maybe they weren’t together.” I hand her back her phone. “She’s probably just a friend. You saw she was on the cheer team. She was at all their games. Cheerleaders are always close to the football team—or at least they try to be.”

  “Ugh. A cheerleader.” Gracie’s scowl deepens.

  “Weren’t you a cheerleader?” I ask.

  She glares. “Yes. We’re the worst.”

  I laugh. “You said you hated him.”

  “God, I do.” She drops the phone on the couch beside her and drains her Starbucks cup. “So why can’t I stop thinking about him?”

  “Gracie.” I knew this would happen. “You do this all the time.”

  “I do what?” she asks innocently.

  “Move on to the next guy way too easily,” I say gently. “Spend some time alone, without a guy. Or just be Caleb’s friend and hang out with us. You don’t need to rush into another relationship yet. You just ended things with Robin.”

  She ended things with the other guy too, only about a month ago. And then the other guy a month before that.

  “Caleb’s a player. He’d just want to fuck me and forget me.”

  “Exactly, so don’t do that. Don’t have sex with him,” I stress.

  “Is Tony a player?” Gracie asks.

  “No.” I shake my head. “Not really.”

  How much of a player could he be, considering he was a virgin?

  Still hard for me to wrap my head around, if I’m being honest.

  “He’s so good looking,” Gracie says on a sigh. “And he seems really into you.”

  “You think so?”

  She nods. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night. I know you claim you just want to keep it casual with him, but I think he really likes you. And from the way you’re so quiet, I’m guessing you might really like him too.”

  I do. Oh God, I do. This is a big mistake though. Huge. I shouldn’t like him so much. I wanted to keep it friendly. He’s the one who pushed for friends with benefits, and look at us now. That’s what we’ve turned into.

  But this isn’t all his fault. I was a willing participant last night. I wanted it. I wanted him. I want more of him. We had sex twice. I had two orgasms and that lucky bastard had three. I’m worn out. Would love nothing more but to collapse in bed and sleep the day away.

  I have class though. A test that I haven’t studied for at all. I’m screwed, but I don’t care. All I can think about his him. Tony. And when I might see him next.

  This is bad. So, so bad.

  “Hay? You all right?” Gracie nudges me in the shoulder.

  I lift my head in a daze. “Did you say something to me?”

  “I said I think you really like him too,” she says. “Do you?”

  I stare off into the distance. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Well, there’s I shouldn’t, and then there’s I do.”

  Ah Gracie, only logical when she talks about someone else’s problems.

  Then again, I guess I’m the same way too.

  Twenty-One

  Tony

  The college football season is exhausting.

  It’s mid-November and we’re still playing. Just like when we were in high school and we made the playoffs, which was every year I was on the varsity team. The Bulldogs have made the playoffs too. The difference is in the travel. While in high school, the farthest we went for an away game was three hours one way. In college?

  We were in freaking Minnesota last week. This week, we play Hawaii at home. Next year, we’ll play in Hawaii.

  Can’t wait.

  We’re doing well, thanks to Ash’s leadership on the field. I ran in a touchdown against Minnesota last week. I got a mention on ESPN. Eli was jealous as hell, though he also kept saying how cool it was. Jake called on Sunday to congratulate me.

  It felt good. Everyone else usually gets the accolades. I’m the dude in the background getting the job done. Now I’m getting some attention, and not gonna lie…

  It’s awesome.

  More girls are interested. They approach me on campus. In class. After practice. And always after a game. I’m polite, but never too friendly. I have zero interest in them. I’m too busy thinking about that pretty blonde who’s invaded my life.

  Hayden and I have been seeing each other regularly. And if we don’t actually see each other, we talk every day. The problem? I don’t know what to call us. I don’t refer to her as my girlfriend and she doesn’t say I’m her boyfriend. Not that anyone’s asked but…

  I sort of want a label. Which is stupid and goes against everything I’ve said before about relationships. I still feel the same way about them. Mostly. They’re for suckers. Someone always gets hurt. Long term rarely works. Everything between us is pretty great right now, but is that going to last?

  Damn. I’m such a pessimist. I need to learn how to enjoy the here and now.

&
nbsp; Though I see why people get sucked into this kind of thing. Why they believe it’ll work. I get it now. Hayden makes everything so damn easy, and when I was with Sophie, yeah we had a good time, but at the end, it turned into a struggle. She didn’t want to make time for me, and that would make me mad. More like it hurt my feelings. I look back on it now and we weren’t the greatest match. Her family wanted her to focus on her dancing, and I get why. She was amazing. She didn’t have time for me.

  And that made me feel unwanted. Unloved. I’ve had enough experience with that with my parents. I didn’t need my girlfriend to treat me like that too. So I gave up on her, on us, before things became even more complicated.

  Hayden and I are both pretty busy, but we also make the time to see each other as best we can. As the fall semester winds down, her project load increases. She’s got all sorts of group projects and presentations to give. While I’m practicing constantly and keeping up with my gen ed classes. Between all of that, we don’t see each other as often as I’d like.

  Though I’ll say this, when we are together, it’s fucking good. We hang out, we laugh, we watch movies, we go to dinner, we spend time with my friends, Gracie is usually included, and we always end up having mind-blowing sex.

  Mind. Blowing.

  It gets better between us every time. Like, every single time. So why wouldn’t I ask her to be my girlfriend? I know she’s anti-relationship. Supposedly, so am I. But I like this girl. A lot.

  I don’t know what to do.

  We’re all out to dinner after practice, at a nearby Mexican restaurant that has the best chips and salsa I’ve ever had. It’s me, Caleb, Jackson, Eli and Diego, and we’re downing baskets of chips as if we’re all starving.

  Which we sort of are.

  I want to ask these idiots for relationship advice, but that also feels like I’m asking for trouble. And I don’t know if I’m fully prepared for the shit they’re about to give me.

  That’s our favorite thing to do. Give each other shit. It’s always good-natured. Diego used to have a mean streak, but he’s really changed, thanks to becoming a dad. He’s a kinder person. I think Jos has something to do with that too. Besides him, Eli is the only other one who’s in a long-term relationship, and I don’t know if I can take him seriously. He’s a good dude, but he also loves to talk. And sometimes, he says a bunch of nonsense.