“Alright, alright, alright,” Brad chimed. “Let’s get the party started, my man!”
“Shhh,” I hushed Brad, slapping his palm and closing in on his fingers for a hand-shake-turn-grab-and-snatch-away. “I got a girl in here.”
Brad grinned, eyes widening. “Really? She still up for more?” He stood on his tiptoes and craned his neck up to see beyond me.
I laughed. “I don’t think so. Her pussy’s pretty raw after fucking her a few times.”
Then, I sighed with frustration.
“What?” Brad whispered.
I leaned in. “She won’t leave.”
Brad snickered at me. “Serves you right for bringing back a bitch to your place. How often do I have to tell you, never bring a girl to your place; always go to theirs. Besides, you might miss out on some great girl on girl opportunities if they have a roommate.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, learned my lesson.”
“Hang on. I got this.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked when he started making his way to the kitchen.
He grabbed a ketchup bottle and a napkin from one of my cabinets. A fancy-schmany one my father gave to me to ruin my life at Princeton. His idea of a good time was showing off ridiculously expensive napkins; mine was sex around the clock.
Brad shook the ketchup bottle and out came a couple of dollops. Then, he started coughing loudly. Heaving and breathing with strain. The folded napkin to his lips, he was careful not to press too hard and smear it all on his face like lipstick…or a clown.
I caught on soon enough and hopped over to him hunched over the sink. “Brad! Brad! Are you alright!?”
“Nicely done,” Brad commended.
I smiled and nodded. “Thanks.” I cleared my throat and turned my head towards the bedroom, aiming for my voice to project in that direction. “Brad! Brad!”
The girl—J-something, I know her name starts with a J…I think—tumbled in, turning on the light to find me patting Brad’s back. Brad managed to make his neck rash and his eyes bloodshot red. The man was a genius of dramatic arts. He should be an actor.
“What’s going on?” the girl asked.
I pulled out a chair for Brad to sit and he moved his napkin away from his mouth. “Oh my God,” I said, staring wide-eyed at the napkin. “Brad! You coughed up blood!”
The girl, whose eyes were lazy, switched around in a second. She moved forward and stopped halfway. “Oh my God,” she said. “You need to go to the hospital!”
“I know,” Brad’s voice creaked, nodding.
“I’m so sorry,” I started with the girl, “do you mind if I—”
She held up her hands, palms facing me. “Say no more. I’m out of your way, not a problem.”
She hurried back into my room, stayed there for a good five minutes, give or take. Enough time to slip on her clothes, and skipped out in a flash.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Sure. I left my phone number on the bedside table. Call me.”
I smiled in faux-appreciation. “Sure will.” I flapped my eyelids, batting my lashes. “Thank you so much—” don’t struggle with her name or she’ll think you’re full of it.
The girl headed for my door and hopped out. “Bye,” she called out before closing the door.
“That was fucking genius!” I congratulated Brad.
Brad burst out laughing. “What can I say,” he threw the napkin on the table and shrugged, “it’s a gift. Now let’s get ready. We got to find ourselves some fresh meat.”
“It’s so weird how you talk about chicks like a serial killer, dude,” I said, walking towards my bathroom.
“Serial fucker,” Brad mumbled. I chortled at his choice of title. “Ugh, she’s ringing me again.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Lauren.” He turned the phone around and showed me him and Lauren together on the screen, revealing envious affection only a married man on lockdown could possibly understand because he’s so tied down he’s got nothing else going for him. Her name on the bottom as the phone rang through.
I shrugged. “Just ignore her. Why do you even have her as a girlfriend when you can get any girl? And do get any girl.”
“I like having a sidepiece; it’s entertaining watching her swoon over me. Plus, she gives great head. Loves doing it. All the time. Swallows my come like a good girl. That’s hard to come by with a one night stand.”
I nodded in agreement. “True.”
“So,” Brad slapped his hands together and rubbed, of course checking himself out in the mirror, “where are we off to tonight?”
The scene at Princeton was a collective of—you guessed it—highly intelligent people who obviously no more bounds than I care to take notice. The best part of going out is going to a club away from campus, finding a chick there that’s so willing to bang a handsome, well-groomed, hot, Princeton guy. Princeton: another word for ‘excessively rich by default’. Most girls I fuck think it’s a gold digging opportunity. I sell them the dream—the new dream—of a life filled with glamour, success, perhaps love; allow them to revel in a non-existent world full of potential that’ll never be realised, go home with them, and fuck them till I come.
Brad is different. He has a girlfriend. A sexy one at that. He says he loves her and she just eats it right up. It’s funny watching her sometimes; of course I push the smidgen of guilt aside and carry on laughing at her with him. Brad sold her the dream and she bought it; but he wasn’t supposed to keep her on call as the girlfriend.
“It’s something new, Daniel,” he once told me when they were first going out. “You should try it some time. It’s always a bonus to know that there’s a gullible girl waiting to suck your cock!” We both laughed raucously.
The club was bouncing loud and clear. People were already getting high with ecstasy: their preferred drug of choice in this joint. I never liked the stuff. Weed is as far as I go; but even then, I don’t care too much for it. I’m not into the chores of getting high unless my cock is in some girl’s pussy. That, I’ll gladly work for.
As the night went on, Brad and I kept drinking and scouring the floor for some girls to have some fun with. We pointed and talked about a skinny, stick-figure girl in the middle of the dancefloor, flipping her hair.
“If she fucks as good as she dances,” Brad started, “then I’ll pass.”
Brad pointed to a girl with brown hair and heels as tall as skyscrapers. “What about her?”
I scanned the room to see if anyone else was taller and seemingly big-boned. Nope, just her. Even the men couldn’t match her height. “Is that a man or a woman?” I scoffed. I could have sworn I saw an Adam’s apple.
I quickly nudged Brad as soon as I found her. “Oh!” I pointed. “Her?”
Brad followed my line of sight to a busty blonde. “Miss motorboat, over there? Yeah, she looks hot.”
“Alright,” I said, taking another swig, “who do you want to be tonight?”
“I’m…” Brad thought, “Ben, an investment banker from Chicago on a business-related trip.”
“Nice,” I grinned. “I’m Henry, a—”
“No,” Brad shook his head, “you don’t suit a ‘Henry’.”
“Oh, I like Grant. Grant, the ER doctor dedicating his life to saving lives.”
“Shit, her friends are going to eat that up like a fucking cake.”
“Let’s get to it then,” I held out my drink.
“Well, alright,” Brad clinked his glass against mine.
And we made our way to Amber Dawn.
***Hi guys! Hope you enjoyed this post. I know a lot of you are going to be shocked about Daniel in this post, but it’s exposition for a much bigger question in relationships. Stay tuned! On that note, I have a little announcement to make. I’ve finally finished my sexy, rom-com\erotica! Not yet tried editing it, however, I do remember wanting you all to choose the cover for the book. So my question to you is: do you want to choose the cover now, or after I edit when publishing is closer? Let me know in comments below by the next post! See you soon! Soul xo***