by B P Walter
This was met with a groan from Ernest and a noise of disbelief from James. ‘Honestly?’ he said, rolling his eyes.
‘Oh, come on, where’s your sense of fun?’ Julianne said, kneeling on the floor. ‘Do you know, I’m for ever glad this dorm-room tradition has crossed the Atlantic thanks to trashy teen movies.’
‘Is it an American tradition?’ I asked.
‘It’s fun and cheap and involves sex, so, yeah, I like to think it is!’
‘Involves sex?’ Ernest said slyly. ‘Sounds like we’ve been playing it wrong all this time.’
‘You know what I mean. Seven minutes of heaven and all that.’
I’d heard of these party games, of course, but had never taken part. In fact, I’d never really been invited to the parties where they’d been played.
Ally, ever the ringleader, was to keep order throughout the game. On the first few spins, the top of the bottle landed somewhere between two people, as we weren’t able to sit in a proper circle in her less-than-spacious room, and she had the deciding vote about whose turn it was. Most of the initial ‘dares’ were actually more ‘truths’, where Ally would pose a question, usually about the chosen one’s sexual, alcoholic or drug-taking experiences. If I’d been sober, it would have all seemed preposterously childish, but on this rare occasion the alcohol seemed to be lifting my mood rather than making me morbid. When the bottle finally landed on me, I wondered where Ally would go with the questioning, considering she knew full well about my lack of experience in any of the areas she was busy exploring with the other participants. Before she could speak, however, Ernest cut across her.
‘Last time you had sex. Describe the last time you did it.’
Peter, sitting quietly next to me, let out a high-pitched giggle, then hiccupped, causing everyone else to laugh. He brushed a lock of ginger hair out of his eyes and started refilling his cup with more wine.
‘Okay,’ I said, meeting his gaze head-on. ‘It was on Christmas Eve, on the sofa by the tree. Missionary style. He came pretty quickly.’
Ernest looked shocked for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. ‘Nice,’ he said, looking a little impressed. ‘And who is “he”, may I ask?’
‘Just a friend from back home,’ I said, suspecting the story might lose whatever shine it had if I described George in more specific detail.
I batted away Ally’s probing questions as to who this friend might be and just told her she wouldn’t know him since he wasn’t at our university, which sounded better than the simple truth that he wasn’t at any institute of higher education full stop.
When the bottle swung round to James, it became clear that Ernest, tired of his sister’s commanding role, was keen to take the game up a notch. ‘James can have a dare,’ he said, ‘a proper one.’
It was Julianne’s turn now to let out a nervous laugh. ‘Oh, this might be interesting.’
‘Have a wank. Right now.’ Ernest winked at his friend as he said it, but James shook his head automatically.
‘Not a chance.’
‘Oh, you’re so crude,’ Ally said to her brother.
‘You chose the game,’ Ernest said.
‘I’m tired,’ Ally announced, slurring her words slightly, yawning and leaning away from me so her head was resting on the chest of drawers behind her.
‘You can’t sleep through the main event: James’s dick.’ When he said the last word, Ernest shot me a look and raised his eyebrows once. I found myself laughing. ‘No, don’t make him.’ I looked over at James, who seemed both amused and embarrassed.
‘While you guys all debate my boyfriend’s penis,’ Julianne said, also having trouble getting her words out, ‘I’m going to pee.’
‘Just down the corridor to the left,’ Ernest said. ‘My sister likes to live like one of the real people, so doesn’t have an en suite.’
‘You don’t have a fucking en suite,’ Ally murmured, her eyes closed, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position.
‘So, come on then,’ Ernest said, his attention again on James. ‘Don’t disappoint us.’
They shared a look for a beat longer than seemed natural, and if I had been thinking clearly, I would have thought more of it, but then James was standing up and unbuckling his belt and I felt my stomach do a flip.
‘Challenge accepted,’ he said, pulling down his dark-blue jeans, his white underwear standing out against the natural tan of his skin.
‘Good sport,’ Ernest said. I had the feeling he was looking at me as he said this, but my gaze was locked on James as he put his hand underneath his pants and started to play with himself.
‘You can lose the underwear, no ladies are present,’ Ernest said after about a minute of James tugging away at himself. I glanced over at Ally, now quietly snoring into the wall.
‘You’re forgetting me and Ally,’ I said in what I hoped was an indignant voice.
‘I don’t think I am,’ Ernest murmured. He winked again. ‘Not sure where Julianne’s got to.’
I half-felt I should go and find her in case she was sick or something, but I was rather transfixed by what James was doing to himself, albeit hidden under the cotton of his briefs. Something in me also wanted to stand up to Ernest; prove to him I wasn’t going to fail at the first hurdle or back out when things got intense. I could hold my own, I thought, as I looked back at James and boldly demanded he remove his underwear.
‘If the lady insists,’ he said, and now, finally, he did look me in the eye as he exposed himself, pulling his pants down to his knees and moving his hand over his penis – larger and thicker than George’s, I noticed – back and forward with his right hand. He wasn’t fully erect and within seconds Ernest was commenting, ‘Not quite the full shilling down there at the moment?’
Peter let out another of his strange, childish giggles and James smirked. ‘I think I need a bit of help.’
I thought he was joking and laughed, too, but Ernest didn’t – he just faced me, smiling.
‘Did you hear him, Holly? James said he needs a bit of help.’
I felt myself blushing, the heat flooding into my cheeks. Could he really be suggesting what I thought he was? I stared blankly at him, worried to make a presumption.
‘What are you waiting for?’ James smiled at me and now I saw the same look in his eyes he’d had that night by the pool at Rupert’s house. A challenge. A dare. An invitation to set the record straight and refute any idea that I was this sheltered, prudish, insignificant person, lost in their posh, exciting world of decadent deeds. I probably shouldn’t have done it. Years later, it would be those tantalising seconds that stayed with me the most; the moments in which I could have just folded my arms and refused to be part of whatever game they were playing, even though it wouldn’t have changed anything. It wouldn’t have stopped them. But for me, in that moment, I didn’t want to back down. I didn’t want to be the shy girl they were going to scare away. I wanted to be bold.
Slowly, I got up, feeling the room spin slightly as I stood on my feet and then walked the few steps over to James. Sitting next to him on the bed, I reached over and took his penis in my hand. I let it rest there for a moment, feeling it swell as my fingers closed around it, enjoying its generous length and girth; then I started to move it up and down. James didn’t make much of a sound, but let his breath out in a slow, steady stream, his head falling back as he supported himself on both hands. I could feel Ernest staring at us and Peter was making an odd sound, somewhere between coughing and laughing, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
‘Nice,’ Ernest said. ‘Now, what do you say we let my sister sleep in peace and take this back to your room?’
I paused what I was doing and looked over to him. Then nodded. ‘That sounds good to me.’
As we walked to the room next door, me and the three boys, I felt as if I was floating on air, moving without moving, just one thing present in my mind: I’m going to do what I’ve wanted for so long; I’m going to have
sex with James.
I looked around me blearily as we entered, taking in my deep-blue bedcovers, the books lining the shelves and the top of my desk. Then I turned around to the two boys and said, ‘So, we carry on playing?’ I knew there was more on the cards now, but I wasn’t sure how to initiate it. An excitement coursed through my veins, red-hot and eager. The desire I felt for James, which had been building ever since that moment in the cabin, had reached a peak I’d never imagined possible. I was alive, electric and full of a confidence I hadn’t known I had within me. ‘We carry on playing,’ said James, looking at Ernest. Something about that look they shared snagged slightly in my mind, like a very quiet, almost imperceptible warning bell, ringing in the distance. But I wasn’t in the frame of mind to care. I was sitting on the floor, and someone put the empty wine bottle in my hands – I think it was Peter – and then I was spinning it round so the whole thing became a circular blur. James and Peter sat on the floor in front of me, Ernest on the side of the bed. We waited for it to stop spinning. It stopped at Ernest.
‘My turn,’ he said, looking at me. ‘What will you have me do?’ His eyes sparkled, as if daring me to push boundaries. ‘Take off your trousers.’ I laughed, for some reason finding this hysterically funny, even if the dare was high-school-level tame. I was feeling very lightheaded now and had to steady myself, even though I was already sitting, so as not to drop forward onto James’s lap.
‘As the lady commands.’ Smirking, he stood up and undid his belt, pulling off his chinos, letting them drop to the floor. He was wearing rather tight-fitting Polo Ralph Lauren briefs. I could see the outline of his penis faintly underneath the material and this made me laugh even more. I didn’t care that I probably sounded like an excitable fifteen-year-old girl. In fact, I’d got to a point of revelling in my own silliness. This was fun. I was having fun. Letting go and having fun, as Ally had suggested. James was staring at me now with a strange look in his eye. Ernest came down to sit on the floor with us and picked up the bottle. ‘I was kind of hoping for a handjob too,’ he muttered, and I shook my head, smirking back at him. He spun the bottle in a gentler, calmer way than I had earlier and watched its slow progress. I knew before it even settled that it would probably land on me. A one in four chance, maybe, but it seemed to have been decided in the stars before he’d even set the bottle down. ‘Time for you to get back to work,’ said Ernest quietly. He looked at me and then glanced at James, as if making up his mind about something. Then finally he said: ‘Give James a blowjob.’
I shrieked with shock, hand clasped to my chest as I shook with laughter. Peter laughed, too, though it sounded awkward and false.
‘I’m serious,’ he continued. ‘You do want to, don’t you?’
I stopped myself laughing, though it was an effort. ‘What do you mean?’
The knowing grin was back. ‘Well, it’s been rather obvious to everyone. Unless of course that was all for show.’
‘Why would it be for show? I gave him a handjob, didn’t I? I think that counts for something.’
I heard Peter let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it from either tension or anticipation. James looked at me and my heart leapt. ‘So, Holly, what do you say?’
‘Say to what?’ My vision was spinning slightly.
‘To Ernest’s dare.’ His voice was calm, cool, matter-of-fact.
He wanted me to. James wanted me to do it. I could see it in his eyes; he was daring me. Seeing if I would go so far or if I would shirk away. It was a test.
‘Go on then. Get it out.’ Instead of laughing this time, I said it with a firm confidence, meeting James’s stare with a smile. After what seemed like a million years, his hands travelled to his flies. He hadn’t bothered to do the belt and buttons back up; he’d just pulled up his jeans so he could walk to my room. As they once again travelled down his legs I could see he was at least partially erect already. He laid his hands back down on the floor, waiting for me to do the rest. I shuffled across so I was next to him and reached over. He was still wearing his briefs, the protrusion of his erection pressing against the front of the material. I put my hands under the waistband and he raised himself off the floor so I could pull them down. When his cock came in sight my head started swimming more than before. This was a dream. It must be a dream. I settled the crumpled bunch of his jeans and boxers around his knees, my heart pounding as I looked at his naturally tanned bare thighs. They looked muscular and smooth, with a fine layer of hair.
‘Much as I’m sure we all love admiring James’s John Thomas …’ Ernest’s drawl cut across my thoughts ‘… I think it might be time to press on with the main event.’ I didn’t acknowledge him, but lifted my hand, supporting myself on the floor with the other. I took hold of his long, hard shaft, feeling it react once again to my touch, and felt James’s whole body tense. I steadily started to move my hand up and down, pulling his foreskin back and forth over his tip. Then I lowered my head, keeping my eyes focused up at him, watching his head go back, that smile I now felt I knew once again dancing dreamily around his lips. I heard Peter shifting around and letting out small, staccato laughs.
I don’t know how long it took but it wasn’t long. It became obvious that a certain kind of tension was building around James’s hips and he gripped hold of my head – not roughly, but with strength – guiding me up and down in a faster motion. He filled my mouth and made the same noise I’d heard him make when Ernest had taken him in his bed a few weeks previously. I held him there for a few seconds after, then pulled myself up, wiping my mouth with the side of my hand. I couldn’t stop smiling and found this strange. Shouldn’t I be embarrassed, or full of regret? Shouldn’t I feel that odd, empty feeling of dissatisfaction I’d felt when George had cum in me on the sofa at Christmas? I didn’t feel any of these things. I felt elated and turned back round to Ernest and Peter. The sight of them initially took me by surprise. Both boys had their trousers and underwear pulled down and were masturbating, Ernest slowly stroking his penis and Peter going quicker, squinting slightly, as if orgasm was in sight but just out of reach. In any other context I’d probably have been shocked, appalled even, but in this instance all I felt was mild amusement at how strange they both looked.
‘Great show, Holly,’ Ernest said, and his voice sounded strange. Practised, almost, as if he was reading the lines of a script. I sat back down on the floor, leaning up against my bed, looking up to where Ernest sat.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I think I need to sleep now. You guys can sleep here if you want.’
Ernest laughed – an odd-sounding, cold laugh. ‘Oh, I don’t think we’re quite ready to stop playing yet.’
That was when I felt the first real stab of worry. Not that I felt particularly in danger, but rather I was encountering something that didn’t fit with my developing new sense of self. I was the brave one, the wild one. The one who sent the boys on their way after I’d had my fun. I didn’t want them to think they were the ones making the rules. Not in my room, not after I’d just impressed them all to the point of obvious physical arousal.
‘Ernest, I need to sleep,’ I said, slightly grumpily. I stood up and waved an arm. ‘Go back to Ally’s room if you want to wank the night away.’ I gave him a nudge, but he took hold of my hand as it made contact with him. His strength and force took me by surprise and I tried to pull back, but his hand had me in a tight grip.
‘Holly, Holly,’ he said, then made a quiet tutting sound. ‘We can’t have this, can we? Not when one of us has been satisfied but the others are left wanting. Think of little Peter here. It’s his first time. You wouldn’t want to take that away from him, would you?’
I stared in alarm at Peter, who had stopped masturbating and was now standing. His small frame, which I’d once considered weak compared to Ernest’s and James’s – a slight against his masculinity – now seemed strangely sinister; like an insect that sneaks up on you. His penis, surprisingly long, though very thin, stood erect between the ends of his shirt and
his jeans were sagging around his waist, threatening to fall down without his belt holding them up. He looked at me with an urgent glint in his eye. Then Ernest said three words that sent a bolt of panic through me.
‘The door, James.’
I instantly looked over at it and saw it had been open all this time. Anyone could have seen us. James did as instructed and turned the lock. I was too disconcerted by what was happening to do anything.
‘Holly, we have a few requests,’ Ernest said slowly, getting up off the bed and coming over to me. ‘First, that you scream. Or try to. We will then silence you. It’s important for us that you’re not just a ragdoll, silent and lifeless. That leads me on to our second point. For this to work, you need to struggle. And I mean really struggle. Do you understand?’
I was paralysed to the spot. I tried to open my mouth but, before I could say anything, Ernest grabbed me tightly and threw me sideways onto the bed. Movement returned to my limbs with the shock and I struggled to get up, but Ernest and then James, too, pushed me back down. I wasn’t sure what was happening; my vision started to blur and I thought I was going to be sick. I retched, but nothing came up, and then a pair of hands was at my waist and the nausea was replaced with fear; fear so strong it was almost white-hot, almost a physical thing, almost something I could touch, something I was being pressed against.
‘I’m going first Holly, okay?’ Ernest was quiet and almost kind-sounding. His face swam into view and came close so he was talking into my ear. ‘You’re doing very well so far.’ His words repulsed me, as if he were a doctor and I was a child getting an injection. I felt James’s hand on my shoulder could smell his aftershave. I turned my head to look at him and managed to get out a cry, but he put one of his hands over my mouth and I moaned against it, tears springing from my eyes.
I lost all sense of time during the course of it. I think I kept blacking out, as every time I opened my eyes there was a different face in front of me. I didn’t know how many times each one did it to me, but I think some of them went more than once. And eventually I could feel them slowing down, their energy flagging. Mine did, too. I stopped fighting. The fear, which had helped me continue to fight back, steadily became like an anaesthetic. The idea of fight or flight became an unrealistic fantasy. James was the last one to finish. I knew it was him by his scent and the sound of his breathing, even though my eyes were closed. Then something strange happened. I heard a voice at the door. Someone was trying the handle and James was leaving me, going over to the door. I opened my eyes at that point and tried to make sense of my surroundings. There was my room, exactly the same as before. Ernest and Peter were asleep on the floor, back to back. And James was standing by the doorway. It sounded like a woman was crying. I couldn’t work out who it was, but I could see James hadn’t put on his pants or trousers. He was just wearing a t-shirt, and I remember thinking how peculiar he looked, standing there with his lower half completely bare, his buttocks exposed, talking to someone. Then he went outside and I could hear him walking down the corridor.