index


Message-ID: <48789asstr$1092139802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 09 Aug 2004 20:55:42 -0500
From: Nick Scipio <nick_scipioSPAM@BLOCKyahoo.com>
Reply-To: nick_scipio@yahoo.com
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} "Summer Camp - Book 3" by Nick Scipio - Ch 08 (MF, teen, oral)
Lines: 2051
Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 08:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Summer Camp - Book 3: Kendall
Part: Chapter 08
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Coming-of-age story about a teenager whose family spends 
their summer vacations at a nudist camp.
Keywords: MF, teen, oral
Revision: 1.0
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book3/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book3/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                       STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment. It 
contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you 
are offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO 
NOT read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to 
any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely 
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse 
any of the activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio 
(nick_scipio@yahoo.com). This story may be freely distributed 
with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2004 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Summer Camp - Book 3: Kendall
by Nick Scipio

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Paul, wait," Gina called as I walked through the North Carrick 
lobby the next morning.

Without turning around, I stopped. I was headed to meet Kendall 
for breakfast, and a night's sleep hadn't improved my disposition 
a bit. I was still upset with Gina, although my fury had gone 
from hot to cold.

"Paul, please."

When I turned around, I got a shock; Gina looked like hell. Her 
eyes were red, she snuffled miserably, and she still wore her 
clothes from the day before.

"I tried to call, but your line's been busy," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. No one had been on the phone since my 
fight with T.J.

"I _did_."

"Whatever. So you thought you'd come stake out my dorm?"

"I know you have breakfast with Kendall every morning," she said.

"So how long have you been waiting here?" I asked.

"Since four," she said miserably.

"Four?!"

"I didn't want to miss you," she said. Then she looked around. 
"Is there somewhere we can go? Somewhere private?"

"Why? So you can tell me that you like Regan's fucking strap-on 
more than me?"

"Paul, _please_."

"Come on, let's go," I said. Billy had spent the night with his 
friend Jamie, so my room was empty.

"Hey!" the RA at the desk called as Gina and I headed for the 
elevators. "You can't go up there."

I gave him a murderous look.

He blanched, but didn't back down.

"I'll meet you at the fire exit," Gina whispered.

I nodded tersely.

She looked like she wanted to give me a kiss, but then she 
thought better of it.

As Gina and I went our separate ways, I shot the RA an eat-shit-
and-die look. He looked like he wanted to make an issue of it, 
but then I turned to face him and _he_ thought better of it as 
well.

A few minutes later, after climbing the fire escape stairs, Gina 
and I entered my suite.

"That little fucking _weasel_," I said when I realized that the 
phone's receiver was sitting _on top_ of the phone, rather than 
in the cradle. I looked at T.J. and Glen's flag-draped door and 
thought about kicking it, just to be spiteful. Unfortunately, 
they were both early-risers, and were probably already stirring. 
So kicking their door would simply buy me _more_ trouble than I 
already had. Reluctantly, I decided against it.

"What's the matter?" Gina asked.

"Never mind," I said as I hung up the phone. Then I picked it up 
and dialed Kendall's apartment.

She answered after the second ring.

"Hey," I said. "It's me."

"What's the matter?" she asked, reading the tension in my voice.

"Gina and I got into this big fight last night," I said, glancing 
meaningfully at Gina, who was standing right beside me. "And she 
met me in the lobby to apologize," I continued. "Can we do 
breakfast some other time?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I half-lied. "I just wanna hear what Gina has 
to say for herself."

For her part, Gina seemed to shrink in upon herself. She even 
managed to look more miserable than she had in the lobby.

"Do you want me to come over?" Kendall asked.

"No, we're fine, thanks."

"Okay," Kendall said softly. Then, "I love you."

"I love you too," I said ostentatiously. I know it was cruel, but 
I wasn't in the mood to cut Gina any slack.

"I'm so sorry," Gina whispered when I hung up the phone. Then she 
sobbed quietly.

"Come on," I said angrily. Then I unlocked my door and ushered 
her inside. When I closed the door and tossed my backpack to the 
corner, she tried to sidle into my arms, but I pushed her away. 
"What the fuck do you want from me?" I asked.

"I want to tell you I'm sorry," she said.

"For what? For choosing Regan over _me?_ For getting me all 
worked up and then leaving me with blue balls? Or did you want to 
apologize for being a complete fucking whore?"

Instead of replying heatedly, as I expected, she simply hung her 
head, her shoulders wracked by silent sobs.

"So... what? Did you come here to say _anything?_" I asked.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely.

She looked so completely wretched that my fury began to cool. I 
was still monumentally angry with her, but flinging more barbs at 
her would be like beating a whipped dog. And as angry as I was, I 
_wasn't_ a heartless bastard.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed.

"Yeah, well, so am I."

"You don't understand, Paul."

"Don't understand?! I don't understand _what?!_ That you had the 
chance to come back here with me or to go with Regan?" I asked, 
my fury returning. "Well, we see how much I understand about 
_that_."

"But I _had_ to, Paul," she sobbed. "You don't understand what 
it's like for me."

"Then enlighten me," I said acidly.

"Regan's the only friend I have here."

"What about _me?!_ Or Kendall?"

"I know how you feel about Kendall," she said, her heartbreak 
visible in her posture. "And I don't get to spend any time with 
you. You're always with _her_."

"No I'm not," I said, though I knew she was right.

"So what was I supposed to do?" she asked. "If it weren't for 
Regan, I'd have _no one_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How do you think I got into Chi Omega?" Gina asked miserably.

"What's that got to do with anyth--"

"Do you think it's 'cause they like _me?_ Ha! Not likely."

"Then why'd you join?" I asked.

"What else was I supposed to do? I don't know anyone here, and 
the only two people I _do_ know spend all their time together, 
without me." She took a deep, ragged breath. "So what was I 
supposed to do? If Regan hadn't convinced them to give me a bid, 
what would've happened? Huh, what?"

"I dunno. You could've been a Tri-Delt."

"Yeah, right. I'm a charity case for them. Do you really think 
Bridget was being so nice to me because she _likes_ me? Or was it 
because she wants to show how big-hearted she is?"

"It's not like that and you know--"

"What do _you_ know about it?" she asked sullenly. "Sororities 
aren't like fraternities."

"Then why'd you join one?" I repeated.

"What else was I going to do, sit in my room with Faith the 
goody-two-shoes? I mean, I never get to see you anymore, I never 
get to see Kendall, and all I do is go to class and come back to 
my dingy room with my Bible-thumping roommate. What kind of life 
is that? If it weren't for Regan, I wouldn't know _anyone_. And 
if she wanted to, she could have me kicked out of the sorority. 
They're the only friends that _care_ about me," she said. "So 
what was I supposed to do last night? Huh? _What?_"

"I didn't realize," I said softly. I was still angry about being 
left high and dry the night before, but I was also beginning to 
see things from Gina's perspective. And as angry as I was, I 
still loved her. What was it Kara had said was the opposite of 
love? Indifference? Well, I was a long way from indifference as 
far as Gina was concerned.

"So I came here to apologize," she said with a ragged sniffle. 
"To beg you to understand. To do anything to make it up to you. 
I'm so sorry, Paul. I didn't think you'd be so angry. I mean, my 
life here basically sucks," she added. "I don't know why I even 
get up in the morning. I can't do anything right, and when I try, 
I just make things worse."

When I heard her utter dejection, my chest tightened.

"I'd better go," she whispered. "Maybe you can still make it to 
breakfast with Kendall." Then she looked up, her eyes bloodshot 
and puffy, her dark, exotic, lovely face streaked with tears. 
"I'm sorry," she said at last.

"Gina, wait," I said, my voice husky with emotion.

Without looking up, she stopped.

"Look," I said, "I... I didn't know what it was like for you."

She shrugged indifferently.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," I said.

She shrugged again. "It's okay. You can go meet Kendall. I know 
that's what you want to do anyway." 

Emotions warred within me. On one hand, I was still angry about 
the night before. But on the other hand, seeing Gina's dejection 
and absolute misery made my resentment pale in comparison. I 
loved her, more than I thought possible, and it was tearing me 
apart to see her in such pain.

"I'd better go," she said, her head still down.

"No, wait." Before she could reach the door, I caught her. When I 
pulled her into my arms, her sobs returned full-force.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled as she buried her face in my chest.

"Shhhh," I breathed, stroking her disheveled hair as I held her 
close.

"I didn't know what to do. I wanted to go with you, but Regan..."

"It's okay," I said, comforting her as best I could.

"When she said '_pledge_ Gina,' I knew..."

I distractedly shushed her again; as I did, I seethed at what 
Regan had done. Most of my anger should've been directed at 
_her_, instead of Gina. True, Gina had still made the choice, but 
Regan had put her in an untenable position. Worse, I felt like I 
was part of the problem.

"I'm so sorry, Paul," Gina whispered in between sobs.

I merely held her as she cried. After several long, heartbreaking 
minutes, she calmed down.

"Let's get you cleaned up," I said softly.

"Do I look that bad?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I guess I should've-
-"

"You're fine," I lied. Then, "Do you feel like taking a shower?"

She nodded. "I haven't even been back to my room. After I left 
Regan's, I came over here."

"Did you really get to the lobby at four this morning?"

Miserably, she nodded.

"Jeez, Gina, I'm so sorry," I said.

She shrugged.

"C'mon," I said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up. C'mon."

"Do you want to...?" she asked.

"If you want me to."

She looked up and nodded tiredly. Then she snuffled. Finally, she 
smiled bleakly.

Once in the shower, I directed her under the steaming spray and 
gently washed her hair. After I rinsed the shampoo, I worked 
conditioner into her hair and tried to untangle the snarled mess. 
As I massaged her scalp, she rewarded me with soft moans of 
approval. She still wasn't smiling, but it was a step in the 
right direction.

After she rinsed her hair, I turned her to face me and tilted her 
chin up with my finger. I looked into her dark, troubled eyes and 
held her gaze with my own.

"I love you," I said. "I always will. I'm sorry I got so angry, 
but..."

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "I should've gone with you."

"Did you at least have _fun_ with Regan?" I asked.

"It was kinda hard to," she said. "I mean, I was worried about 
_you_ the whole time I was with her."

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. Her water-
slick body pressed against mine and she shuddered. Then she began 
sobbing again.

When I finally got her calmed down, she looked up at me with 
tired, bloodshot eyes.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you _so_ much."

"I love you too," I said, hugging her tight.

After a few moments, she pulled back. "Can I borrow your razor?"

"What for?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes, a little of the old Gina shining through.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. Then I reached into my shower basket and 
retrieved the razor and my shaving cream.

She squirted a dollop of cream into her palm and then began to 
lather the tuft of pubic hair on her mons.

"What are you doing?" I asked, even though it was obvious.

"I'm shaving for you," she said softly. "Don't you want me to?"

"But I thought you said that Regan--"

"Regan's _not_ my boyfriend," she said heatedly. "Besides, I 
don't ever want to speak to her again."

"Hold on a second," I said. "I thought she was your friend. Yeah, 
she was a total bitch last night, but you said she was normally 
pretty cool." _Besides,_ I thought, _if Gina hadn't made many 
friends at UT, I didn't want her ostracizing the friends she 
_did_ have, even if the "friend" in question was a manipulative 
bitch._

"I guess," Gina said after a moment.

"And if you don't have anything to do with her, she'll get you 
kicked out of Chi Omega, right?"

"Probably," Gina said glumly.

"So don't do that," I said. "I mean, you really like most of the 
other girls, right?"

Tentatively, she nodded.

"And you still like Regan, don't you?" I asked, reading her 
conflicting emotions.

When I pressed her, she shrugged and reluctantly nodded.

"Just don't let her come between _us_," I said.

"I won't, Paul," she swore. "Never again."

"Good. Now, you don't have to shave if you don't want to. I know 
you don't like having to do it every day."

"Kendall does it, doesn't she? Besides, I want to remind myself 
whose girlfriend I am," she said.

"Thank you," I said softly. Then I tilted her head up for a kiss. 
As her mouth opened and the kiss heated up, I felt my dick 
stiffen. The night before, I'd been too angry to jerk off. As we 
kissed, however, my lust returned with a vengeance.

When we broke the kiss, Gina looked up at me from under dark 
lashes. Then she smiled shyly and turned her attention to her 
pubes. With deliberate strokes, she shaved her mons. Her labia 
were already smooth, but she ran the razor over them as well. 
Finally, she looked up at me and smiled.

"Thank you," I said again.

"Do you want to...? I mean... my nose is pretty stopped up, but we 
could... you know...," she said apprehensively.

I nodded and then pulled her close. As we kissed, my dick reached 
full erection, pressing into her soft belly as we ground 
together. When we broke the kiss, she smiled uncertainly as she 
caught her breath. I smiled and kissed her again, on the 
forehead. A moment later, I turned off the shower. Then we dried 
off and padded back to my room.

I looked at my clock--it wasn't even eight thirty--and decided to 
skip my ten o'clock drawing class. I had more important things to 
do, for Gina's sake _and_ my own.

"Your air conditioner works," she said as she shivered.

"Get into bed," I suggested. "I'll be in to warm you up in a 
sec." Then I shut the blinds and dropped my towel on the floor by 
my closet. My erection led the way as I walked to the side of the 
bed.

Gina turned back the covers to reveal her nude body.

I stared at her perfection for a moment, my eyes lingering on her 
dark nipples. Then my gaze wandered lower, to her clean-shaven 
pussy.

"Make love to me, Paul," she whispered.

With a nod, I slid into bed with her. As I held myself above her, 
she gazed into my eyes. Hers were still puffy and red-rimmed, but 
they were full of love.

Between her legs, I felt the heat and moisture of her pussy wash 
over my hard-on. With movements so long-practiced that they were 
second nature, we moved against each other and I felt my cock 
enter her. She whimpered as I slid all the way into her. When I 
bottomed out, she wrapped her arms around me and held me close.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered again.

"Me too," I said.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said, gazing into her liquid brown eyes.

Then I began moving within her and we stopped talking. My hips 
rose and fell with slow, gentle strokes. I took my time, plunging 
all the way into her before pulling out each time.

I wanted to last longer, but a surge of love overwhelmed me and I 
simply couldn't keep going. After several long strokes, I buried 
my cock deep within her. Then I groaned and released a torrent of 
white-hot semen.

"Oh, God," she whispered over and over again, her lips mere 
inches from my ear.

I was still hard when my orgasm subsided, so after I caught my 
breath, I started thrusting again. Gina wrapped her legs around 
my thighs and ran her fingernails over my back. As I gazed down 
at her, I was struck by the look of tenderness and devotion in 
her dark eyes.

The second time, I lasted a lot longer. I really don't know how 
long, nor do I care. Gina and I were one, our bodies moving in 
perfect synchronicity. Finally, I buried myself inside her and 
ground my hips against her pelvis. Then I emptied myself into 
her, the world going white as ecstasy raced along my nerves.

When the final surge of orgasmic pleasure overwhelmed me, she 
clutched me tight, her legs along my flanks and her hands on my 
ass, as if trying to pull me deeper inside her.

Afterward, we lay panting, my slowly softening dick still buried 
inside her.

"Feel my heart," she said at last.

I lifted up and put my hand on her chest, over her left breast.

"You still make my heart go pitter-pat. You always will."

-----

"Um, Paul?" Gina said softly.

"Yeah?" I'd been dozing, and blinked my eyes to clear them.

"Do you want me to quit the sorority?"

"Why would I want that?" I asked. We'd been over this in the 
shower, but I guess she wanted reassurance.

"Because of Regan," she said. "I mean, I'll quit if you want me 
to. I mean it."

"I know you would," I said softly, cupping her face as I did. 
"But I don't want you to."

She tried to hide it, but her relief was almost palpable.

"You have fun with them, right?"

She nodded.

"And you really _do_ like Regan, don't you?"

After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"So I don't see why you'd want to quit."

"But I thought...," she said. "I mean, you know... after last
night..."

"Just don't let last night happen again," I said firmly. When she 
nodded solemnly, I stroked her cheek and then tucked an errant 
lock of hair behind her ear. "And I'll try to spend more time 
with you," I continued. "I know we haven't seen much of each 
other lately. And it's a little different, because Kendall and I 
spend time together, but you're just as important to me as 
Kendall. Okay?"

Once again, she nodded silently. Then a dark look crossed her 
face.

"What is it?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"You just thought about something," I said. "Something that 
bothered you. What was it?"

"You know me too well," she said, her dark complexion darkening 
further as she blushed. For a moment, she gathered her courage. 
Then, "Um... Susan's coming tomorrow, right?"

I nodded.

"If I'm not gonna... um... you know... if I'm not gonna quit Chi O...
I 
mean..."

"Have you got something you need to do with them?"

She looked up, her expression grateful for not having to speak 
the words herself.

"What is it?" I asked evenly. I don't know how I felt about her 
missing dinner with Susan. On one hand, I was a little peeved, 
because Susan was such an important part of my--our--life. But on 
the other hand, I could understand things from Gina's 
perspective: the sorority was important to her, and it seemed to 
be an all-or-nothing kind of organization.

"We've got a mixer with the Pikes," she said, interrupting my 
introspection. "I have to go. It's some 'Roast the Eagle' party 
or something," she said. "I wanted to tell you, but..."

"It's okay." _I shouldn't beat her up over it after I _just_ told 
her to stay in the sorority_, I thought with a mental sigh.

"So I can't have dinner with you and Susan. And I probably can't 
go to the airport with you either. Is that okay?"

"We'll miss you," I said, "but yeah, I guess it's okay. I mean, 
I'm not real happy about it, but you've got a life too. You 
know?"

"I'm so sorry, Paul," she said. "I really wanna go out with you 
all, but..."

"I understand," I said, suppressing a pang of remorse as I 
thought about what _I_ might have been doing if I had pledged 
Sigma Chi.

"I should be able to go to the game with you all, though. You 
were gonna hang out with Kendall's parents, right?"

I nodded.

"Regan might be with me," she said softly, tentatively. Then she 
looked up, her eyes pleading with me. "She's really not so bad 
most of the time. I've never seen her like that. I think it was 
'cause she'd done so much-- I mean... um... she was just horny and 
all, and angry at Rod. He's her ex-boyfriend."

"I know," I said. "It's cool."

"When's your next class?" she asked, changing the subject 
abruptly.

"Twelve fifteen," I said. "Art history." At the mention of the 
class, I thought about the brunette, and the blonde. I felt 
guilty, but my dick stirred in response.

"Mine's a chemistry lab," Gina said. "At twelve." Then she looked 
at my alarm clock. A moment later, she reached for my stiffening 
penis. "We've got some time before then. Do you want me to...? I 
mean, now that I can breathe, I want to suck you."

"That sounds like a _great_ idea," I said, trying to banish 
visions of the Art History girls from my imagination.

As Gina slid lower and captured my semi-hard dick, I ran my 
fingers through her hair and focused on the sensations she 
created with her lips and tongue.

She sucked me for five or ten minutes and then straddled my hips. 
I watched, captivated, as her labia parted when she lowered 
herself onto my cock. I loved the contrast between my lightly 
tanned dick and her dark lips.

She had just begun moving atop me--her back arched and her 
breasts pointed skyward--when I heard the foyer door open. A 
moment later, I heard the snick of a key in the lock. Time seemed 
to stand still as I watched the door swing open.

"_Ohmygod_," Billy blurted.

In a flash, time resumed and I blinked in shock.

"I'm so sorry," Billy said.

Gina tried to cover herself as I sat up at the same time, almost 
dumping her from my lap. Before either of us could speak, Billy 
bolted from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

In spite of the tension, Gina giggled.

"Billy, wait," I called.

My life had just gotten quite a bit more complicated. Forget that 
my roommate had just caught me _in flagrante delicto_; Billy knew 
_Kendall_ as my girlfriend, but he'd just caught _Gina_ and me. 
That was bound to cause some questions, if not outright problems.

"Go," Gina said, as if reading my mind.

My pussy-slick cock flopped against my stomach when she threw her 
leg over mine. With a guilty smile of thanks, I rolled out of 
bed. A moment later, a towel wrapped around my waist, I pounded 
down the hallway. I caught Billy as he nervously waited for the 
elevator.

"Billy, wait," I said again. "I can explain."

"Sorry, man," he said. "I had no idea..."

"I should've left you a note or something," I said lamely.

We were each still apologizing profusely when the elevator 
arrived.

"Come on back to the room," I said.

He shook his head. "I was just coming to pick up a book for 
class," he said, glancing away nervously. "I don't really need 
it, though."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I've gotta get to class. Bye."

With that, he got on the elevator and the doors closed.

After staring at the silent metal of the elevator doors for a 
moment, I looked down at myself. Then I felt my face heat with a 
mixture of amusement and embarrassment; I was still hard, and the 
towel barely disguised the fact.

"What happened?" Gina asked when I returned to the room. After I 
explained, she chuckled at my predicament. Then she let her own 
towel drop. A moment later, she glided toward me and sank to her 
knees. "If your roommate's not coming back, let's see if we can 
make your swelling go down," she said, her eyes aglow.

I was still worried about Billy and what he must have been 
thinking, but I quickly forgot about him as Gina started working 
her magic on my dick. Soon enough, I rewarded her efforts.

-----

Once again, I barely made it to Art History class on time. I was 
just about to open the auditorium's door when the brunette and 
the blonde dashed up the stairs. As soon as they saw me, they 
stopped giggling and composed themselves.

I opened the door and held it for them with a flourish. The 
brunette winked at me as she walked through the doorway. The 
blonde merely smiled and gave me a little wave. I tossed my head 
in reply and then followed her into the classroom.

Because the brunette sat down first, I ended up sitting next to 
the blonde. She smiled at me as I stuffed my backpack under my 
seat and took out my notebook.

When Professor Dubois's monotone lecture threatened to put me to 
sleep, I pulled out my sketchpad. I closed my eyes and imagined a 
walled villa that I'd seen during my summer trip to Europe. Then 
I started drawing, the lines flowing effortlessly.

A couple of times, I caught the blonde stealing glimpses at my 
drawing, but I pretended not to notice. In reality, I was proud 
of my ability to draw any building that I'd seen, and I guess I 
was showing off a little.

When the bell rang at the end of class, the blonde turned and 
pointed at my picture.

"Where is that?" she asked.

Instead of being tongue-tied--as I invariably was with the 
brunette--I answered without a stutter. "Rome," I said.

"Have you ever been there?"

I nodded.

"So you drew that from memory?"

"I've got a good memory," I said.

At that point, the brunette looked past her friend.

"So you're tall, dark, mysterious, _and_ artistic?" she asked me, 
her eyebrow arched in challenge.

Instead of answering, I choked. _Jeez!_

"And still tongue-tied, I see," she added.

While the brunette smirked, the blonde merely smiled 
apologetically, her blue eyes dancing with a mixture of 
compassion and laughter.

As I stepped aside to let them out of the row, the blonde smiled 
again.

"It's a very nice drawing," she said.

"Bye, Mysterious," the brunette said, her eyes flashing with 
mirth.

Once again, I was reduced to a simple wave.

"I have _got_ to get a grip," I muttered to myself when they had 
gone.

After class, I walked to the Andy Holt Apartments to meet 
Kendall. As I did, I mulled over the events of the past twenty-
four hours. Unfortunately, my thoughts turned maudlin.

"How'd it go this morning?" Kendall asked as she ushered me into 
the apartment.

"Actually, it started last night," I said. "This morning was just 
the final act."

She arched an eyebrow.

We moved to the couch and I started to tell her the whole story. 
As I talked about the trip to the sex shop, she was quiet. When I 
mentioned Regan, however, Kendall stiffened. Then I told her 
about how angry I was when Gina went home with the blonde girl 
instead of me.

"Why were you so upset?" Kendall asked, her voice deceptively 
calm.

"What do you mean 'why?' I was upset because Gina and Regan got 
me all worked up and then left me to fend for myself. And then, 
to put the cherry on top of my really-shitty-day sundae, I got in 
a fight with my suitemate last night, but that's another story 
entirely."

Instead of replying, Kendall grew quiet.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, affecting a neutral expression.

"No, not 'nothing.' I may not know people as well as you do, but 
I know when you're holding something back."

"It's nothing. Really."

"Tell me," I pressed.

After a drawn-out moment, she turned to face me, her expression 
serious. "Why were you so upset that Gina went with Regan instead 
of you?"

"Because I wanted Gina to go with _me_."

"Because you were horny?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "So?"

"So you just _expected_ Gina to have sex with you?"

"Well... yeah. She's my girlfriend."

"I'm your girlfriend," Kendall said. "Do you expect me to have 
sex with you whenever you want?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

"Well," I said. "I mean, Gina and Regan got me all worked up, and 
I thought--"

"You thought _what?_" she asked, the first flash of genuine anger 
that I'd seen from her. "You thought that since _they_ got you 
worked up that they were somehow _obligated_ to have sex with 
you. Is that how it works?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," I said. The discussion 
was going to hell in a handbasket, and I felt like a helpless 
spectator.

"Then what _did_ you mean?" she repeated. She seemed to be asking 
that a lot.

"I mean I kinda expected Gina and Regan to--"

"So you thought you were going to get lucky with Regan too?"

My guilty silence was answer enough.

"And when were you going to ask _me_ what I thought about that?" 
she asked, her eyes welling with tears of frustration.

"Kendall, I--"

"Don't 'Kendall' me. I want to know. I thought we were supposed 
to talk about it if we ever wanted to have sex with someone else. 
Or am I not included in that since I'm your _second_ girlfriend?"

_Fuck!_ I thought. _Not her too. God, I want the last two days of 
my fucking life back!_

"Well?" she asked.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, my hands spread in 
supplication.

That took her by surprise.

"Do you want me to say I'm sorry? Well, I am. Do you want me to 
say I screwed up? Okay, I screwed up. Big time. Do you want me to 
say I'm a male chauvinist pig? Okay, I'm a male chauvinist pig."

"This is all Gina's fault," Kendall spat.

I blinked at her sudden change of focus. I was happy to be let 
off the hook, but I had _no_ idea what she was talking about.

"She _always_ does this, and I'm sick of it."

"Huh?"

"Lisa?" Kendall asked contemptuously. "Heather? And now Regan? 
You don't think it's a coincidence, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Gina always does this. She wants to fool around with some girl--
who always fits a stereotype, by the way--and she uses you to 
lure them into sleeping with her."

"What?"

"Think about it, Paul," she said. "Gina goes for the same type of 
girl and she does the same thing each time."

"No she doesn't, it's...," I said, trailing off as I thought about 
what Kendall had said.

"Gina likes blonde girls with a wild personality--which doesn't 
explain why she ever liked _me_, but that's beside the point. She 
uses _you_ as a lure to get the girl to start having sex. Then 
she can watch or play or whatever she wants. It's pathological."

"Whatever _that_ means," I mumbled.

"It means that she does it over and over again. And I'm sick of 
it. She's always getting you to have sex with these other girls, 
just so _she_ can have sex with them. Don't you see?"

Unfortunately, I _did_ see.

"She's _using_ you," she said emphatically. "You're her own 
personal... stud bait."

"It's not like that, Kendall," I said. I don't know if I believed 
it or not, though. "Besides," I said, hoping to head off trouble, 
"I thought you said you didn't mind that I was fooling around 
with Heather."

"What could I _do_ about it?" she asked, her tears welling anew. 
"Until you came to school here, I really _was_ your second 
girlfriend. Well, not anymore."

I was taken aback by her intensity.

"I don't like how Gina manipulates you to get what she wants. 
She's supposed to be your girlfriend, not your... _pimp_."

"It's not like that," I said again. "She was lonely. And besides, 
Regan seduced _her_, not the other way around."

"It still fits Gina's pathology," Kendall said, unconvinced.

Unfortunately, I could see things from both Gina's and Kendall's 
points of view. They were both right, and both wrong.

"It really bugs me when Gina does this," Kendall said, her tone 
calmer. "And you're partly to blame," she added. "I mean, you 
_expected_ to have sex with Regan."

_So I'm not off the hook after all,_ I thought sourly.

"You might not have realized it, but you were falling into Gina's 
pathology too."

"I guess," I admitted after a moment. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," she said, surprising me. "You should never 
_expect_ to have sex with a woman just because she's gotten you 
aroused."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry."

"And just because a woman _wants_ sex doesn't mean you have a 
right to demand it."

I nodded.

Then she looked down and wrung her hands.

"What?" I asked.

After a moment, she sighed deeply and then sniffled. "I've been 
doing a lot of thinking about something you said a while ago."

"And?" I prompted, fully expecting the _other_ shoe to drop.

"Maybe I _do_ have a sex drive as strong as Gina's."

I blinked at her non sequitur.

"Sometimes, all I can think about is when I'll see you next," she 
continued. Then she grew silent for a moment. "But if I ever 
thought you _expected_--"

"I _don't_," I said quickly. "Yeah, I guess I'm always _hoping_ 
to have sex with you, but I've never expected it."

"Thank you," she said softly, still staring at her hands. Then, 
quietly, "I like to think I'm some strong feminist, that I don't 
_need_ a man to validate my identity. But then sometimes, I 
wonder if I'm not more like my mom. I don't define myself by the 
man in my life, but you're a lot more important to me than I ever 
thought possible. I don't know what I'd do without you. But 
worse, I don't know what I'd do if I ever felt like you were 
taking me for granted."

"I won't," I said softly.

"I don't like it when Gina takes you for granted, either. And I 
_especially_ don't like it when she uses you to get what she 
wants. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to _me_."

"You're right."

At my words, she looked up, her eyes full of unshed tears. With a 
bleak smile, she wiped them away. More replaced them, of course.

"I'm sorry," I said. I seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

"Me too," she said. "I didn't mean to get so upset. But when 
Gina--"

"Shush," I said softly. "We've already been down that road. 
Okay?"

She nodded.

"Right now, it's just you and me."

"Right _now_," she said. "But what about next time, when Gina... 
oh, never mind."

"She won't. I think she was as upset about last night as I was," 
I said. _Although for different reasons,_ I added silently.

Kendall took my words at face value.

Then I pulled her close, enfolding her in the warmth of my 
embrace.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice hoarse with pent-up 
emotion.

"I love you too." For a few minutes, I simply held her, my 
physical presence banishing her worries and fears. After a 
moment, I inhaled the scent of her hair and then ran my hand down 
her back. "You're wearing your white robe," I said softly.

She nodded.

"You always look so beautiful in it," I said. "It really shows 
off your legs."

"Thank you," she said. Then she lifted her face and we kissed, 
tentatively at first, but with growing heat. "So, are you 
expecting to get lucky?" she asked when we broke the kiss. Her 
tone was light and not-quite-teasing, but it held a serious note.

"No," I said softly. "But I'm hoping..."

"Good answer," she said as she stood. Then she reached down. When 
I took her hand, she chuckled ruefully.

"What?"

"Maybe I _am_ as horny as Gina," she said with a shy grin.

"That's a good thing," I said as she led me down the hallway. "A 
_very_ good thing."

In her bedroom, I slowly stripped off my clothes. I was still a 
little worn out from my morning with Gina, but Kendall could 
always inspire me to more. Consequently, when I lowered my shorts 
and underwear, my erection sprang up.

"Is that for me?" Kendall asked.

I nodded and kicked my clothes to the side. Then I untied the 
belt of her robe. With a shrug, she let it slip from her 
shoulders. As I pulled her toward me, my erection pressed against 
her soft thigh.

For a few minutes, we kissed, our tongues languidly dancing with 
each other. I cupped her ass and held her luscious body against 
mine, her skin warm and silky smooth.

When we finally broke our extended kiss, I moved us toward the 
bed. As she lay back, I knelt between her legs and began kissing 
down her trim stomach. With my hands on her hips, I moved lower, 
planting butterfly-light kisses on her skin as I did. Finally, I 
settled on my stomach, my face mere inches from her clean-shaven 
slit.

I inhaled the fragrance of her arousal. Her thighs trembled in 
anticipation as I kissed the sensitive skin, my lips trailing 
ever closer to their ultimate goal. As she lifted her legs, I put 
my hands on her inner thighs and spread them.

Her labia were already plump and moist with arousal. When I 
parted them with my thumbs, her inner labia peeked out, swelling 
as well. For a moment, I simply admired her pussy. She was 
smaller than Gina, and instead of dark lips, hers were pale.

As I gazed at them, however, they went from pale to rosy pink, 
rouged by her mounting excitement. Instead of diving in, however, 
I took my time and kissed all around her smooth lips and mons. It 
drove her crazy. I could hear her breathing grow shallow and 
ragged as her anticipation built.

My lips caressed every piece of skin _except_ the one she wanted 
most, and after several minutes of mounting tension, I finally 
gave in to her unspoken pleas. With a mischievous grin, I gently 
blew on her moist sex. She shuddered in response, her thighs 
quivering under my palms. Then I leaned forward and planted a 
kiss on her blossoming labia.

"Oh, Paul," she sighed. "Don't tease me."

I grinned to myself and continued doing just that. Her hips 
rocked gently as I licked and kissed up and down her swollen 
slit, spreading her moisture and coating my cheeks. She tasted 
tangy and fresh, metallic but sweet. It was a taste like no 
other, and I relished it.

Finally, I flicked the tip of my tongue against her hooded clit. 
She jumped as if stung, but I knew better. Instead of shying away 
from the contact, she lifted her hips and tried to force her 
pussy against my mouth.

I pulled back, teasing her.

"Paul, please," she begged.

Once again, I smiled to myself and then kissed her pussy, my lips 
pursed around the swollen bud of her clit. She wanted me to do 
more, but I pulled back.

She moaned.

Instead of returning my lips to her pussy, I kissed the soft 
crease between her thigh and her ass, the heady aroma of her 
arousal hanging around me like an intoxicating cloud. As I 
switched from the right to the left, I brushed my lips over her 
slit. She gasped when she felt my warm breath on her swollen 
labia. But I continued to her other thigh, kissing and caressing 
it as well.

At last, I relented and moved back to her pussy. Her trim stomach 
fluttered as I looked up her body, past the rise of her rib cage. 
Her generous breasts were flattened to the side, and she was busy 
playing with her nipples. With an unseen grin, I lowered my head. 
Then I buried my tongue in her slit, lapping up her juices as I 
pleasured her.

She gasped and I felt her fingers twine through my hair, her 
nipples all but forgotten. When I circled her hooded but swollen 
clit, she cried out softly.

Finally, I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked gently. Her 
hips bucked against me, trying to force more of my mouth against 
her. I rewarded her by flicking my tongue side-to-side.

Then I began licking in earnest, my tongue, lips, teeth, chin, 
and nose working together to pleasure her. She bucked her hips 
again, all but lost in ecstasy.

As I waggled my tongue through her delicate folds, I held her 
steady with my hands on her thighs. My neck easily absorbed the 
shocks as she occasionally bucked. But I also paid attention to 
_when_ she thrust her hips at me, and what I was doing at the 
time. With passionate ruthlessness, I returned to the things I 
knew she enjoyed.

For several delectable, intense minutes, I varied my tempo, 
pressure, and focus. Then I felt her tense up. A moment later, I 
felt her hands leave my head, and I knew she was tweaking her own 
nipples. I put my tongue into overdrive and dived into her, 
circling her sensitive clit at the end of each stroke.

As her pleasure built, I gently shoved a finger into her tight 
opening. When I did, she moaned softly and her body quivered with 
pent-up emotion.

Finally, she erupted, and a gush of moisture coated my finger. 
Instead of crying out, she grew quiet, and I knew she was holding 
her breath. Sure enough, when her orgasm began to subside, she 
let out an explosive breath and her stomach heaved erratically.

As I raised up and crawled forward--my face still damp with her 
juices--she wrapped her arms around me. Then she wrapped her legs 
around me as well, my erection bumping against her slippery 
pussy.

Instead of speaking, she kissed me, tasting her own juices on my 
lips. Without breaking the kiss, I lowered my hips and felt the 
head of my dick slide along her channel. When it reached the 
bottom, I eased forward and the glans entered her. She moaned 
into my mouth as I slowly worked my way into her super-tight 
pussy. When I buried myself completely--her inner muscles still 
rippling with aftershocks--we broke the kiss.

"That feels wonderful," she whispered. Then she gazed up at me, 
her blue eyes round and full of love. "Make love to me," she said 
softly.

I nodded and began moving within her.

As my dick slid from within her, she whimpered. I could feel her 
inner walls contracting around me, gently squeezing my dick and 
trying to hold me inside. When I reached the end of my stroke and 
started to ease back into her, her muscles parted reluctantly. 
But they parted nonetheless, and my girth spread her open.

"I love feeling you inside me," she said softly. "You're so big, 
so perfect."

"I'm glad you think so," I said, my breathing growing heavier.

With that, we quit talking.

Her bed squeaked beneath us as I plunged into her, but the rhythm 
was hypnotic. I closed my eyes and enjoyed all the sensations 
assaulting me--from the feeling as her snug pussy gripped me to 
the gentle pressure of her hands on my sides.

Since I had already come several times that day, I knew it would 
take me a while to work up to another orgasm. So I took my time 
and enjoyed myself. Kendall was magnificent to behold as I thrust 
into her, her eyes closed, her face a mask of ecstasy. Her 
eyelids had turned a dusky pink, and her face and chest were 
flushed as well. Beneath me, her nipples described circles in the 
air as her breasts bounced with each thrust.

After a few minutes of steadily pumping into her, I pulled out, 
my pussy-slick cock bobbing gently as I did.

"Roll over, on your hands and knees," I said. "I want to fuck you 
from behind."

A moment later, she rose on all fours, her flared hips and narrow 
waist on display before me. For a moment, I simply admired her 
body. Then I scooted forward, my dick aiming at her round ass. I 
put my left hand on her flank to steady myself. Then I gripped my 
shaft and eased into her. She moaned softly as I filled her. Then 
I put both hands on her hips and held myself motionless, simply 
delighting in the feel of her pussy.

Finally, I drew back and paused for a moment. At her insistent 
moan, I lunged into her, my hips slapping her ass. Then I began 
thrusting, my shiny dick sliding in and out of her. Her bed 
squeaked even worse than before, and I was thankful that we had 
the apartment to ourselves.

Those thoughts soon fled my mind, however, as we got into a 
rhythm. When I thrust forward, she moved back, my hips meeting 
her ass with a slap. When I pulled back, she rocked forward. Over 
and over, I plowed into her.

After a few minutes, I leaned over her back and supported myself 
with my left arm. With my right arm, I reached around her body 
and cupped one of her pendulous breasts. She moaned as I gently 
pinched and rolled her nipple.

"Come inside me," she gasped as I quickened my pace. "I want to 
see your face when you come."

I nodded and sat back on my haunches, my slippery dick pulling 
free of her pussy. She drew one leg forward and rolled to her 
back. Then she pulled the other leg up and scooted toward the 
center of the bed. Before she could lower her leg, I captured her 
ankle and held it aloft. Then I reached for her other leg and 
lifted it as well.

With my hands on her ankles, I spread her legs until my arm hit 
the wall. Then I scooted my hips forward. Her pussy spread open 
before me, swollen, pink, and shiny. I rocked my hips back and 
forth, running the underside ridge of my cock along her slit.

She gazed up at me, her eyes glassy with lust. She didn't need 
words to convey the fact that she liked my body. I watched as her 
eyes slid lower, over the thick muscles of my shoulders and 
chest.

With undisguised fascination, I watched as the tip of my dick 
eased into her channel. Her fleshy inner labia parted as I slid 
inside her. I've always been enthralled by the sight of my cock 
spreading a shaved pair of lips, and this time was no exception. 
Finally, my neatly trimmed pubic hair compressed against her mons 
as I came to rest deep inside her.

Her pussy was a vise-like sauna: tight, hot, and wet. And her 
labia spread around my thick member, embracing it, holding it 
fast, caressing it. Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away and looked 
up. She was watching me, her expression quizzical.

"You look so fascinated," she said softly.

"I guess I am," I admitted. "I mean, I don't think I'll ever get 
tired of seeing this sight," I said, nodding to where our bodies 
were joined.

She reached up and caressed my face, her eyes full of love. I 
smiled down at her and blew her a kiss.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too."

With that, I started thrusting, and our conversation came to an 
abrupt end. She whimpered and I groaned, both of us inarticulate 
in our ecstasy. I put her ankles over my shoulders and leaned 
forward, bending her almost in half. Then she reached between her 
legs and caressed my face, urging me on with her silent touches.

For several minutes, I merely pounded into her, my hips rising 
and falling, burying my cock deep within her. As I thrust, my 
pelvis slapped against her upturned ass. Beneath us, the bed 
squeaked, adding to the symphony of sex.

Finally, blissfully, I felt the pressure build in my balls. With 
a low grunt, I buried myself as deep as possible. Then I clenched 
my buttocks and tried to bury myself deeper still. For a moment, 
I trembled as the rush of impending orgasm almost overwhelmed me. 
Then I stiffened and filled her with semen.

When my orgasm subsided, I opened my eyes. It took them a second 
to focus, but when they did, I gazed down at her smiling face. To 
either side of my ears, she wiggled her toes, her smile widening 
further.

"My," she said panting, "that was... wow."

I nodded, my nostrils flaring as I inhaled deeply.

"I thought you were gonna break the bed."

Instead of answering, I kissed her, my dick slowly softening 
within her. When we broke the kiss, I lifted my arms one at a 
time and let her lower her legs. Then I sat back on my haunches, 
and my semi-hard member slipped from her pussy. Once again, I 
marveled at her sheer beauty. Freshly fucked, she seemed to glow, 
a sheen of sweat coating her body.

"What?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"I was just thinking how beautiful you are," I said.

She ran her hands along my forearms and smiled in reply.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too. Very, very much."

-----

Before dinner, I went to work out with Trip and the other guys. I 
smelled like sex, but I hoped they wouldn't notice. Besides, soon 
enough, I'd smell like sweat anyway, and no one would care.

After my marathon day of fights and heated discussions--followed 
by make-up sex and then _more_ make-up sex--I was exhausted, both 
mentally and physically. I made it through my workout, but just 
barely. Fortunately, Luke and Jeff didn't notice. 
_Un_fortunately, Trip did.

"Hey, y'all," Luke said as we cooled down. "_The French 
Connection_'s playing at the UC tonight. Y'all wanna go?"

"What's it about?" Jeff asked.

"It's about these New York cops who're trying to stop a heroin 
shipment from France," Luke said.

As he explained the plot to Jeff, I zoned out.

"You okay?" Trip asked me quietly.

I looked up in surprise.

"You look... worn out," he said.

"I just worked out," I temporized.

"Yeah, but that's not it."

I shrugged. "I've just had a rough day, I guess," I said.

"Okay," he said.

"So," Luke asked, turning his attention to Trip and me, "y'all 
wanna go?"

"I'm gonna pass," I said. "I'm beat, and I've got reading to do 
for class tomorrow." Then I glanced at Trip. Since my reading was 
for Joska's class, Trip and I shared a knowing look. In my mind, 
I heard him say, _"Lesson learned, so let's move on."_ I chuckled 
at the thought (not to mention the wisdom of his words).

"What's so funny?" Luke asked.

"Trip knows," I said. When he looked at me, I got the feeling 
that he _did_ know what I'd been thinking.

"I'm gonna pass too," he said. "I've also got reading."

"I'll go," Jeff said. "It sounds like fun."

"Come on then, you skinny dork," Luke said.

"Fuck you, you hairy fuck," Jeff replied.

Not surprisingly, Jeff took off running, with Luke in hot 
pursuit.

"You know, I don't know _how_ those two have the energy to chase 
each other," Trip said.

"A_men_, brother," I replied.

"Anyway, I'm not gonna try and keep up with 'em."

I shook my head.

"You up for dinner?" he asked.

"I'm supposed to meet Kendall and her roommate," I said. "But 
you're welcome to join us."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. We're just eating at Morrell. It's no big deal."

"Okay. Thanks," he said. Then, "How's the food there? I haven't 
tried it yet. I guess I thought it was only for upperclassmen."

I shook my head. "It's open to anyone with a meal plan. But 
Morrell's full of juniors and seniors, with a few sophomores. So 
yeah, it's _mostly_ an upperclassman dining hall, but not 
really."

He nodded.

"Besides," I added, "the food's a lot better than Presidential."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cool."

We walked in silence the rest of the way back to the dorm. Trip 
could tell that I wasn't in the mood for conversation, so he left 
me to my thoughts.

On a whim, I decided to call Gina's room after I got cleaned up. 
Faith told me that she was doing something with the sorority (_or 
Regan_, I thought semi-resentfully).

At dinner, I was quiet, but Kendall was in an affectionate mood. 
Fortunately, she seemed content to sit close to me and let me 
remain silent. I wasn't brooding--I was simply exhausted--so she 
didn't try to draw me out. As I picked at my food, however, I 
listened to Trip and Abby talk about music.

I knew that Trip thought Abby was cute, but he didn't flirt with 
her. He was polite, and he paid attention, but nothing more. Once 
again, I wondered what had happened with his ex-girlfriend.

A moment later, Kendall took my hand and held it. I glanced at 
her, glad for the distraction. I still didn't want to join the 
conversation, even though Trip was talking about one of my 
favorite bands, Blondie. I guess I was in my own little world.

After dinner, I kissed Kendall goodbye. We all had homework to 
do, so we headed back to our separate dorms.

"You wanna grab your book and come over?" Trip asked as we rode 
the elevator. "We can get our reading done and then listen to 
some tunes. I've got a new Pete Townshend album that I wanna 
listen to. It came out last year, but I hadn't bought it yet. 
It's called 'Empty Glass,' and it's his first solo album since he 
left _The Who_. So, you up for it?"

"I guess," I said.

"Okay. Grab your book and I'll see you in a sec."

I nodded and then we headed into our separate suites.

"Hey, Loverboy," T.J. called through his open door.

"What?" I answered, trying to hold my temper in check.

"You get any _phone calls?_" he asked with a snicker.

"Yeah," I said, stepping into his room, "but tell your mom to 
stop calling me."

In a flash, he jumped to his feet and bristled. "What did you 
say, faggot?" he asked.

I flexed my fingers and lowered my center of gravity, ready for 
him.

"_Jesus H. Christ,_" Glen said, slamming his book closed as he 
stood up. "Will you two _cool it?!_"

"What?" T.J. asked, the picture of falsely accused innocence.

Glen didn't say another word. He simply walked over to me. I did 
my best to stand my ground, but inside, my nerves thrummed. To my 
surprise, he gently but firmly ushered me out of the room and 
closed the door behind me.

I unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. Through the door, I 
heard T.J. arguing, but Glen never uttered a word. With a jittery 
sigh, I took out my keys and unlocked my own door.

As the adrenaline rush slowly wore off, I grabbed my Architecture 
book and headed across the hall. Trip was strumming his guitar 
when I pushed the door all the way open.

"Hey, man," he said. "C'mon in. Have a seat," he added, 
indicating Luke's bed. Then he set down his guitar and reached 
over to his desk for his textbook.

Without preamble, I flopped onto Luke's bed and opened my book. 
For the next hour, Trip and I read in silence. Our assignment 
dealt with human sciences--psychology and sociology--and how they 
applied to design.

At first, I found it dry and boring, but before I realized it, I 
was devouring the material. I had always thought that being an 
architect meant designing a building's form, but as I read, I 
realized that _function_ was equally important. After all, why 
design a building that no one could use? And I was fascinated by 
the study of people and their reactions, how they responded to 
light, space, color, texture, and more. The section on sociology 
and group dynamics was equally fascinating.

When I finished reading the assigned sections, I realized that 
Trip still had a number of pages to finish. So I flipped back to 
the beginning of the chapter and re-read the parts that I found 
most interesting. I was tempted to read ahead--the final part of 
the chapter was about ergonomics--but Trip finished reading 
before I could.

"Whatever _that_ means," he muttered as he shut his book.

"What? That was the coolest thing I've read yet."

"Really?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

"I didn't get much of it. I mean, I'm normally a quick reader, 
but that was like pulling teeth."

"No it wasn't, man," I said. "For instance, I never thought about 
how people react to light, especially sunlight. I mean, I always 
thought light was light," I added. Then I flipped to a page in my 
book. "But look... this part where it talks about natural lighting 
improving people's mood... that's totally cool. And how about the 
way people perceive texture and depth? Here, where it talks 
about..."

For the next ten minutes, I think I bored Trip to tears. He could 
tell that I was excited, however, so he let me blather on. 
Finally, I wound down.

"Well," he said, half-sardonically, half-seriously, "now I know 
how to get you in a good mood."

"How?"

"Start talking about human sciences and architecture."

I felt my face heat.

"I'm just kidding, man," he said. "Mostly."

"Sorry. I guess I got carried away."

"Nah, it's cool. I wanna be an architect, but I just don't get 
into this psychology stuff like you do. And I pray to God that 
Joska doesn't ask me about it tomorrow. Anyway, let's check out 
that new Pete Townshend LP."

The album was actually pretty good. Trip listened to it with the 
same intensity that I'd had when talking about light and texture. 
I just listened to it for fun. I had heard "Let My Love Open the 
Door" before, but the other songs were completely new to me. 
After the second side finished playing, Trip flipped the disk 
over and restarted the first side. Then he turned down the volume 
and relaxed on his bed.

"So, what'd you think?" he asked.

"It was pretty cool," I said. "I liked the third song on the 
first side, the one right before 'Let My Love Open the Door.'"

"'And I Moved,'" Trip said without looking at the LP's dust 
jacket.

"I also like that song on the second side, the one that goes 'a 
little is enough.' What's that one called?"

"'A Little Is Enough,'" he said with a chuckle. "Clever, huh?"

"Yeah."

"It's a good album," he said, propping himself up on one elbow. 
"You can really tell that Townshend's broken away from the stuff 
he wrote for _The Who_. I mean, his guitar riffs are cleaner, 
more refined. They don't have the driving sound of _The Who_, 
from songs like 'Who Are You,' or 'Won't Get Fooled Again,' but 
they're definitely cool."

For the next ten minutes, Trip didn't exactly bore me to tears, 
but he talked about nuances in the music that _I_ certainly 
hadn't noticed. It was fun listening to him, but I couldn't 
imagine hearing that much variation in what was basically--to me-
-a simple album. But Trip liked it. And since he had listened to 
me prattle on about something I was interested in, I listened and 
tried to nod at the right times.

"God," he said at last, "I wish I could play like Townshend. Or 
Eric Clapton, or Duane Allman, or B.B. King, or... or a lot of 
guys."

"I dunno," I said, "you sounded pretty good when I heard you 
playing before."

"Thanks," he said. "I'm okay." Then he turned wistful and looked 
at his guitar.

"What?" I asked.

"I was just thinking," he said, shaking his head sadly.

"About what?"

"Lori gave me that guitar," he said. "I don't know why I keep it, 
though," he added. Then he reached out and caressed the wood. 
"Actually," he said with a laugh, "I _know_ why I keep it; it's a 
Martin D-28." When he saw my blank expression, he explained. 
"It's a really nice guitar. It's got a spruce top, East Indian 
rosewood sides and back, and a solid mahogany neck. And it has a 
really warm, rich sound."

"I guess I'll have to take your word for it," I said.

"Trust me," he said. Then he strummed the guitar and threatened 
to turn maudlin again.

"D'you mind if I ask you a personal question?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"What happened with you and Lori? I mean, if you don't wanna tell 
me, that's cool, but..."

"It's okay, man," he said. For a long, drawn-out moment, he sat 
silently. I thought he wasn't going to tell me after all, but 
then he sighed and set the guitar aside. As he stared at his 
hands, he spoke quietly. "Lori was my girlfriend all through high 
school. Actually, we started going together in eighth grade."

I nodded.

"Oh, God, how I loved her," he said, brightening for the first 
time in several minutes. "I could talk to her for hours, about 
everything. And she was _so_ beautiful. Still is, I guess. She 
had dark hair and these gorgeous hazel eyes, and every time I saw 
her smile, I felt like I was gonna burst. You know?" When he 
looked up, he had tears in his eyes. Somehow, I knew that he'd 
never let Luke or Jeff see him get so emotional.

"What happened?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged. "She said she fell out of love. I mean, how's that 
work? Do you wake up one day and suddenly not love someone? Like 
_bam!?_ Is that how it works?"

"I dunno, man."

"Anyway," he said, shrugging again, "that's what she said. I 
tried to get her to explain, but that's all she ever told me," he 
said. Then he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "We were 
gonna go to Vanderbilt together, but..."

"Yeah."

"She broke up with me graduation night. We were at this party, 
and she told me. Then she left with some other guy."

"That's cold, man. What'd you do?" I asked.

"Wreck my dad's car," he said with an embarrassed laugh.

"No shit, dude?"

"No shit," he said.

"What, were you drunk?"

"Nope. I was stone-cold sober. Would you believe it?"

I nodded.

"I wrapped that Cadillac around a tree."

"Were you okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "I was fine. The car... well... the car, on the 
other hand, looked like a pretzel."

"I bet your dad was _pissed off_," I said.

"Um, yeah."

"What'd he do?"

"He made me pay for it," he said. "Well, not all of it, but half 
of the insurance value."

"Holy shit, man! How much was it?"

"It was a _lot_. Six grand."

My eyes flew wide. "Six _grand?!_"

"Yep. More than half of my tuition money."

"Wait a sec," I said. "Your dad made you give him your tuition 
money?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"But what?" I asked.

"He told me he'd pay for school for the first year."

"Is that why you're at UT instead of Vanderbilt?"

He shook his head. "I'm at UT because Lori and what's-his-name 
are at Vanderbilt. I didn't even wanna be in the same _town_ with 
her. And I kinda swore off women after we broke up."

_That answers a lot,_ I thought.

"But my dad said he'd pay for Vanderbilt. He was kinda surprised 
that I wanted to go to UT, but... well... I think he understood."

I nodded.

"And besides, he knows he'll only have to pay for one year of 
school."

"Why's that?" I asked. "Do you have a scholarship or something?"

"Uh-uh. I'm paying for my own school after this year."

"How?"

"My last house sold," he said.

"Your last _what?!_"

"My last house," he said seriously. "When I was fourteen, I 
started my own business. My dad bought a house and I planned on 
fixing it up. But it was a _lot_ more than I could do by myself, 
so my dad loaned me the money and I hired a crew to do the 
renovation. I still made a profit when it sold, though. So the 
next summer, I asked my dad to buy _two_ houses, and had crews 
renovate both of them. When they sold, I reinvested the profit."

I stared at him, agog.

"When I was sixteen, I used my own money to put a down payment on 
another house. My dad signed the loan, I managed the crew that 
renovated the house, and then I sold it for a healthy profit."

"What'd the crew think about working for a sixteen-year-old?" I 
asked.

"At first, some of the guys thought it was a joke. But a couple 
of them had worked for me the summer before, and they knew me. I 
paid good money, I was fair, and they knew I was serious."

"You're _kidding_."

"Nope. When I was seventeen, I bought two houses, managed the 
crews renovating them both, and reinvested my profits. I did the 
same thing this summer."

"What for?" I asked.

"For the money," he said seriously. "And for the experience. I 
mean, I've known I wanted to be an architect since I was ten."

I envied his drive and certainty.

"And I wanted to pay for college on my own," he continued. "So 
when I wrecked my dad's car, I thought I was screwed, at least 
until one of my houses sold. My dad knew I'd pay him back, but 
that's not why he offered to pay for college. I think he felt 
guilty about making me pay for half the car. But it was the right 
thing for him to do."

I nodded.

"And then about a week ago," he continued, "my dad closed escrow 
on the last house."

I had no idea what "closed escrow" meant, but it sounded like a 
good thing.

"So now I've got the money for next year's tuition, and my dad 
doesn't have to pay for it."

"Jeez," I said. "I just asked my parents to pay for school."

"Yeah, well, stick with me," he said, "and we'll have you paying 
for your own tuition in no time."

"How?" I asked. Okay, sometimes I'm still a little slow on the 
uptake.

"What d'you think I'm gonna do _next_ summer?" he asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

"And I'll show you how it's done."

"That's a great idea," I said, "but I don't have the money to buy 
a house."

"Get your parents to loan you the money. You can buy in as a 
junior partner and then when we sell, you'll get a share of the 
profits. After you pay your parents back, you'll still have quite 
a bit of money, several thousand dollars, at least."

_How did this go from a discussion of _his_ ex-girlfriend to a 
talk about _my_ future?_ I wondered.

"Reinvest some of your profits for the summer after next," he 
continued, "and use the rest to pay for tuition."

"Can you _really_ make that much money?" I asked.

He nodded seriously. "Even after repaying all the loans, I have 
quite a bit of money in the bank, all from reinvesting my 
profits," he said. "But don't mention that to anyone else. Okay? 
I don't want anyone to think I'm some kind of rich snob or 
something."

I closed my mouth with a clomp. A moment later, still 
dumbfounded, I nodded.

"Anyway, I've got enough money to buy one house outright, as long 
as we don't get too fancy," he continued. "But we need to have 
the capital to renovate it, so I'll probably use our cash to put 
a down payment on two houses, finance the rest of the purchases, 
get construction loans, and keep a cash reserve for emergencies."

"Emergencies?" I asked, finally finding my voice.

"Something _always_ goes wrong when you're renovating a house," 
he said. "So we're gonna need to have some money to deal with 
it."

I nodded. Then I realized with a start that he was already 
talking about "we" this and "we" that.

"My dad has always made good money as a partner," he continued, 
"so I know he'll sign for the loans. Actually, I co-signed this 
summer's loans--since I was eighteen--which means that I _may_ be 
able to buy next summer's houses without my dad's help. It 
depends on my credit rating, though."

"Yeah," I said, nodding as if I understood what he meant.

"Anyway," he said, "that's how I'll pay for school. And I can't 
believe you're letting your parents pay for your tuition," he 
scolded gently. "I mean, we're supposed to be adults, right? And 
I certainly don't have some secret formula. You can do what I'm 
doing. Besides, it's good experience for being an architect."

I nodded, still a little astonished by it all.

"You're starting later than I did, obviously," he said, "but I 
think you'll be pretty happy with the first summer's profits, 
even as a junior partner. I mean, what _else_ are you gonna do 
next summer," he asked, "go to summer camp?"

-----

When Billy came home from working on the _Dracula_ set, he seemed 
tentative. I understood why, too. I think I'd be pretty 
embarrassed if I caught _him_ in bed with his girlfriend (if he 
had one, that is).

Neither of us said anything about the incident earlier in the 
day, but it hung over us like a pall. I think he was more 
uncomfortable than curious, which was fine by me. I didn't want 
to explain why I was in bed with a girl he knew wasn't my 
girlfriend. And I don't think he wanted to even _mention_ the 
particulars, much less discuss them in detail.

We did, however, talk about how we could let each other know if 
one of us had a girl in the room, although he seemed _doubly_ 
nervous about that. As long as he wasn't asking about Gina and 
me, though, I wasn't going to ask why he was uneasy.

In the end, neither of us could come up with a clever solution, 
so I simply borrowed from a story my father had told me: we 
decided to hang a necktie around the doorknob when one of us 
wanted to wave off the other.

Billy seemed relieved when we settled the matter, which laid to 
rest some of my anxieties as well. Finally, he took out a book 
and buried his nose in it. I had reading to do for American 
Literature (even if Professor Feller was going to give me a 
grade, I felt the need to _earn_ a good one), so I took out my 
book.

A couple of times, I thought I saw Billy staring at me, but every 
time I looked up, he was studiously reading. Finally, we decided 
to turn out the lights and go to sleep.

Unfortunately, I lay awake for a long time. At first, I was 
thinking about Billy. He certainly hadn't reacted like I thought 
he would, and that piqued my curiosity. I couldn't put my finger 
on it, but something about his reaction just struck me as odd. 
For a while, I pored over our conversation in my head, but 
nothing jumped out at me.

Then I decided to take Trip's advice and stop worrying about the 
little things. When I thought about Trip, however, my mind turned 
to his offer for the following summer. It _did_ seem like perfect 
experience--practical experience--for becoming an architect. And 
if I could make a little money at the same time, that would be 
even better.

In high school, I never had to get a summer job. That was partly 
because my family spent the summer at camp. But it was also 
because my parents believed that my "job" was going to school and 
getting good grades. Even though that was the case, my parents 
always had high expectations for me, and they made sure I 
understood my obligations. So I wasn't a stranger to hard work, 
but it was odd to think about getting a real job.

I was intrigued and excited by the prospect, but I was also a 
little scared (although I didn't like admitting that to myself). 
And I was beginning to see that the "real world" had little to do 
with my life before college. The real world was full of hard 
work, worries about money, and people like Professor Joska, T.J., 
and Regan.

_But it's also full of people like Kendall, Gina, and Trip,_ I 
reminded myself. _And Susan_.

At the thought of Susan, I pictured her in my mind. I was 
definitely looking forward to seeing her. I also wanted to ask 
her about some of the problems weighing down my thoughts.

_And I'm looking forward to some quality time with her and 
Kendall,_ I silently admitted to myself.

When my thoughts turned to Kendall, however, my mood turned 
pensive, and I began to re-analyze our afternoon conversation. 
Even though she hadn't really dwelt on it, I had _really_ screwed 
up with Gina and Regan.

Kendall had mostly glossed over the fact that I _was_ planning--
even expecting--to have sex with Regan. Fortunately for me, she 
had been more upset with Gina for her role. But that didn't 
absolve me of my own guilt.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that it 
_did_ fit Gina's pattern, her "pathology," as Kendall put it. 
True, Gina had already been having sex with her friend Lisa (from 
Charleston) before I had gotten involved, but Heather Wellesley 
had been a different story altogether. The buxom blonde was a 
virgin before I had sex with her. And looking back, I realized 
that Gina had carefully orchestrated the whole thing.

In hindsight, I also realized that Gina had manipulated things 
with my best friend in high school, Scott Anderson, and his 
girlfriend, Shannon. For our senior prom, Scott and I had swapped 
girlfriends, with Heather as an added bonus for Scott. Gina and 
Shannon had obviously talked about things beforehand. Maybe 
events would've gone the same way without Gina's intervention, 
but I had my doubts.

And finally, there was Kendall herself. If it weren't for Gina, I 
probably would never have invited Kendall to the quarry at camp. 
And I certainly wouldn't have had the temerity to actually pursue 
a relationship with her. I was very happy with the way things had 
turned out, but once again, I saw Gina's hand at the controls.

So with Regan, I understood--now--why I had simply assumed that 
Gina and I would have sex with her. But that still didn't make it 
right.

Kendall could get angry with Gina all she liked, but I knew my 
own culpability (even though I didn't particularly want Kendall 
to chide me for it). Gina might've been the impetus behind a lot 
of my extra-relationship sex, but I was a willing and often eager 
participant.

With Regan, I'd been a participant before Gina had even brought 
it up. That bothered me.

So as I stared at the dark ceiling, I thought about my life and 
the women in it. Gina did some things that frustrated me beyond 
words, but she was also capable of incredible kindness and 
understanding. She was adventuresome and wild, even if that same 
wildness often led me to trouble (of my own making or not). In 
addition, she was neither jealous nor possessive, which I was 
thankful for.

And where I'd always held Kendall--the Goddess Kendall--above 
reproach, I was beginning to see another side of her. She was 
more jealous than Gina, but also more forgiving. I didn't know if 
either of those were good things. And while she had an incredible 
gift for analyzing people and their motives, she sometimes 
couldn't understand that another person's motives might differ 
from her own (as was the case with Gina and the sorority).

I guess Kendall was becoming more human in my eyes, and less of a 
goddess. For a few minutes, I worried about it. But then I 
realized that Kendall and I hadn't really spent much time 
together, not like Gina and I had. Gina and I had been in a 
serious relationship for two years, practically living together 
at times.

I loved both girls, but I loved them for different reasons. And 
with the added stress of college, I was beginning to see cracks 
in each relationship. None of them threatened to undermine the 
stability of either foundation, but I didn't know what the future 
would bring.

After a moment, I realized that I was thinking in terms of "this, 
_but_ that." For each thing that occurred to me, I came up with a 
countervailing "but."

_I want a relationship without "buts,"_ I thought with a sigh. 
_Do those really exist?_

"Not in the real world," I muttered darkly.

-----

Copyright (c) 2004 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+