Chapter 1: Freshman Year
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Safe Sex, School, .
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Freshman Year - A new chapter in the life of Sammy K. Oldham. Now eighteen, Sammy heads off to College to meet a new cast of characters, cope with a new set of circumstances and follow each path the falling dominoes take him.
It was six a.m. on Sunday, August 20, 1989. We were fifty miles from home and I was in the back seat of Ned's car, wide-awake.
Penelope turned and grinned at me. "He's awake. Can't you sleep, Sammy? What time did you get in last night?"
"I don't know," I responded. Actually I knew exactly what time I had gotten to my room. It was two-fifteen a.m. and it would have been thirty minutes later if I had taken the girls home. But Sean had generously agreed to take them home and bring my car back. Ned had found my car parked in front of the garage and assumed that I had left it there, with the keys in the ignition, rather than waking him and Penelope by opening the garage door.
"Did you have a good time last night? You look like you had a good time."
"Yes," I said. God, had I ever had a good time. It was my last night with the girls and they both wanted a piece of me. We broke tradition of the one-on-one rule we had adhered to all summer. Both girls monopolized my cock, telling Sean they would give him the same treatment before he had to leave for school the following week. I wondered what they would do for entertainment after Sean left.
I knew Penelope didn't really want to hear about my evening with the groundskeepers. I also knew that the reasons she had given for coming along with us, not wanting to be alone in Ned's apartment, wanting to share the driving, wanting to eat in a nice restaurant, wanting to see the school I would be attending, were all bogus. Penelope wanted to talk about the dominoes.
"Anything happen with the snake-eyes domino?" she opened the discussion.
"No, I haven't seen or heard anything about Wanda Rowell. I don't know what she decided to do about school."
Penelope looked apprehensive, like she wanted to ask another question but didn't know how to phrase it. I decided to appease her.
"Everything I predicted about the two and one domino is coming true. Alice took my advice and came home and Trisha has had two of the three relationships that I predicted."
"Wasn't there another prediction connected with that domino?"
"I told Ann the three dots represented her breasts and her pussy and they would belong to me. At first she scoffed at the idea but she kept calling to ask me to meet her. When we were together she was fine with it but when we were apart she had second thoughts. Eventually she told me she accepted my prediction. One night she was standing under a streetlight in a driving rainstorm and shouted across the street to me, 'I'm your domino.' But it didn't last much longer. She thought she needed security and dumped me for an older guy."
Penelope's expression showed puzzlement but she turned her body to the front and I must have dozed off. The next thing I knew we had driven another hundred miles to the half way mark on our trip and Ned was asking if I wanted coffee. Coffee sounded good and I was glad to get out of the car and stretch my legs.
We were seated at a table, having pastry and coffee, when Penelope broached the domino subject again.
"There was another domino, wasn't there?"
I grinned, remembering the sound of Karen's cynical laughter when I told her the meaning of the six and six domino. "She hung up on me. I'll probably never hear from her again," I said.
"So that makes two domino predictions you've made that haven't materialized. Do you think the others were coincidence? Are you sure you didn't wish for some things that just happened to come true?"
"I didn't wish for Trisha to have three affairs. That's how it came to me, I told her and its happening the way I said. I don't even like to think about her being with someone other than Greg but I told her it would happen. She didn't believe me. It's not something she wanted to happen either, but it's happening."
Penelope was looking into the bottom of her cup, like the answer was hidden there. Ned was looking on, interested but staying out of our discussion.
"Perhaps it was the power of suggestion. Have you thought of that?"
"All I know is that it's beyond my control. Once I see a domino and the meaning enters my mind the outcome is inevitable."
She gave me a quizzical look and smiled. "How do you account for the ones that haven't played out the way you predicted? You said yourself that Karen will never talk to you again and the Rowell chick left the office without looking at you."
"You're right. Maybe I've lost my touch," I conceded, hoping she would drop the subject. I didn't want to have to explain the three and one domino. Telling Penelope and Ned about what happened in the cottage was something I wanted to avoid. Besides, it was not a good example of how the domino worked; I hadn't predicted the outcome for that one. There was no way I would even mention the two and two domino, how Sheila had spread her legs and placed her hands on the counter, inviting me to enter her.
It had been a year since Mr. Oldham and I had been to the small town of Pontiac, but I was able to direct Ned to the college. We entered the gates to the school at eleven fifteen a.m. and found the grounds abuzz with activity. All the entrances to my dorm were crowded with cars which were being unloaded by fidgety freshmen with their anxious parents trying to help. After we found a place to park, Ned helped me with my footlocker and Penelope followed, carrying a box filled with photos and keepsakes.
The room I had been assigned was on the second floor. The entrance from the hall was to a small common room where a table, four chairs, a small refrigerator and the telephone were located. Aside from being small, the room seemed comfortable with a fresh coat of paint hiding the battered look. There were two doors leading to rooms. My name was on the one to the right, along with a second nametag that read Roland Marlow.
Ned and I were anxious to set the footlocker down. It wasn't heavy, just awkward to handle. I opened the door and that is when I met my new roommate.
"Don't you fucking knock? Cocksucker!"
I bristled, surveyed the room and signaled to Ned to drop the footlocker. He turned to Penelope, took the box from her and told her to go check on the car. She didn't argue. It was now eleven twenty-five a.m. and the guy I assumed to be Roland was in bed. I took the few short steps and extended my hand.
"I'm Sammy Oldham," I said, avoiding adding, 'looks like we're going to be roomies, ' or that I was glad to meet him.
Roland scowled, lowered the sheet and extended his hand. His arm was burly, his chest hairy and I saw what looked like an abused nipple on his chest. His hand was incredibly soft. I squeezed slightly more than a first-meeting handshake required but didn't try to make his eyes pop out or anything. As soon as I released his hand he pulled the sheet over his bare chest and turned over to face the wall.
Ned was busy rearranging the furniture at my end of the room. In addition to my bed and a desk, there was a closet. At the bottom of the closet were two drawers for underwear and socks. I stored the box of pictures in the closet and we placed my footlocker next to the desk before going back downstairs to bring up another load.
"Sorry about that," I said to Penelope when we reached the car.
"Don't worry about me, she laughed. You're the one that has to put up with him."
Ned told Penelope to watch the car. He and I made two more trips up and down the stairs amidst other excited freshmen. Roland's body was turned to the wall. He didn't reprimand me again for not knocking. He didn't say anything.
We were heading back to the town to find a place to have lunch when I saw Charlie driving his mother's Volkswagen. We flagged him down and invited him to have lunch with us. He wanted to unload his car and get settled but we insisted that he join us and he succumbed to our demands.
On my previous visit to Pontiac, Mr. Oldham and I had sampled both of the better eating establishments in town. We'd had lunch at the school cafeteria; dinner at Stella's and breakfast in the hotel dining room. Stella's Restaurant was packed with freshmen and their parents, and judging by the traffic around the only hotel, its dining room was crowded too. We waited thirty minutes for a table, which had been pushed snugly against another table. Charlie struck up a conversation with the people seated next to us, another student and her parents.
Talking about anything serious was difficult, but Ned got a chance to warn me about my roommate.
"You need to be able to live with him for a year and the first few days are important. He must weigh two-fifty but don't take any shit from him," Ned whispered and I assured him I wouldn't. We ordered, ate and left Stella's as soon as possible. Ned and Penelope were anxious to be on their way home and the atmosphere wasn't conducive to after-lunch talk anyway. They dropped us off at Charlie's dorm and said goodbye.
"I got her name," Charlie boasted as we lugged his stuff up to the third floor of his dorm.
"And?" I asked. He went on to tell me the student at the table next to ours was Angie Forbes and that her room was on the first floor of my dorm.
"And?" I asked again.
"She's a business student."
"That's all I found out."
"You don't get it, do you? The last I knew, you were practically engaged to Margaret and here you are hitting on the first female you meet."
"I wasn't hitting on her," he said, defensively, but without the conviction I would have expected to hear from someone who professed to be hopelessly lovesick.
Charlie's mother had bought a new car and given him the Volkswagen. We drove around the campus and then the town to become familiar with the layout of both.
The campus consisted of twelve buildings. There were only four dormitories, two of which were exclusively for freshmen students as we were required to live in a dorm our first year and the other two were for upper classmen. There was an administration building adjacent to the student center, where one of the two cafeterias was located. The learning center was a stand-alone building as was the sports center. The other eight buildings were mainly classrooms with professors' offices and other school functions wedged into inconspicuous corners.
There was no football program or any other competitive sport at the school, only intramural sports according to the school's literature. I spotted a running track around the perimeter of the all-sports field and there were several tennis courts scattered around the campus.
There was not much to the town. It was evident that the main business section catered to the student population. In addition to three clothing stores, there were two pizza shops, a Chinese restaurant, a movie theater and a beer hall. We drove around the neighborhoods and were able to pick out where some of the professors lived, where business people resided and where upper classmen rented apartments in three and four family homes. Several 'for rent' signs dotted the landscape.
Charlie and I had our evening meal in the only cafeteria that was open, and then parted, saying we would meet for breakfast the next morning.
Just for the hell of it I knocked on the door to my room. There was no answer but one of the guys from the other room came out and introduced himself. Skip Canon was average in height and weighed maybe one hundred forty pounds. My first impression of Skip was that we would get along well. His expression was serious but friendly. He said he had just arrived and hadn't seen Roland, nor had he seen our other roommate. I invited him into the room.
Something hit me the second we entered the room. I went to the closet and removed the box containing photographs and other personal items. The box had been ransacked. Becky's picture, which had been face-down in the box, was turned face-up and the top was off a box of diskettes. One of them was missing.
"Shit! The Bastard has my journal," I said. Only one disk was missing but I knew it was the one labeled 'Becky, ' even before I sorted through the others.
"What are you going to do?" Skip asked.
"I don't know," I said, cursing myself for copying my journal onto diskettes and bringing them to school. How could I be so stupid as to leave them in an unlocked closet? I knew exactly what I was going to do. Too bad I didn't have an apple-coring tool handy.
Skip stayed with me while I waited for Roland to come back to the room. We talked about everything, high school, girls, what our old man did for a living, siblings and more about girls. His dad was in marketing and the family had moved three times since he started kindergarten. He had two sisters and had just split up with his second girlfriend. I gave him a basic overview, telling him that my 'dad' was in real estate, that I had one sister and that I didn't presently have a girlfriend.
I woke up fully dressed, lying on top of my bed. Roland was asleep in his bed and Skip was not there. Something told me to check the box of diskettes before I pounced. The 'Becky' disk was back in the box.
I grabbed my shaving gear, clean underwear, and a towel and headed to the bathroom which was between the two rooms, in back of the common area.
Skip was shaving. He introduced me to the tall kid using the other sink. Kent Kincaid was built like Skip, only six inches taller. Judging from his long legs and arms he could have been a basketball player. We shook hands and I noticed his hands were long, an asset to a basketball player.
Since both sinks were tied up I jumped in the shower. When I came out Skip was waiting to shower next and Kent was back in their room.
"How come you didn't wake me?" Roland said when I went back into the room. He was still under the sheet.
"Let's get a couple of things straight. It's not my job to wake you and it's your job to stay out of my stuff," I said.
For a big man he was fast. The next thing I knew he was out of his bed and towering over me. Ned's estimate of his weight, I decided, was off by twenty-five or thirty pounds.
"Are you accusing me?"
"Yes," I answered, locking my stare with his eyes. His jaw was set. My mind was racing, planning my defense, drop the shaving kit and towel, move, go for his jugular, move, gouge his eyes out and keep moving. We stood there for thirty seconds before he relaxed his jaw and gave me an I-could-wipe-the-floor-with-you snicker.
He mumbled something about needing to take a piss, leaving the room. What just happened? Did he back down? I believe he did. I removed my underwear, shirts and socks from my footlocker, making room for the personal items in the bottom of the locker. It was my own fault that my stuff had been pilfered; I should have known better than to trust others with an unlocked closet.
The two days of freshman orientation were filled with lengthy lectures about the history and customs of the school and what was expected of us. The lectures were reinforced with written lists of rules, tours of the campus and waiting in long lines. By the end of Tuesday we had our textbooks and knew how to navigate around the campus between classes without getting lost.
I introduced Skip and Kent to Charlie and we sat with him and two of his roommates. We didn't see Roland or the forth member of Charlie's room.
By the end of Tuesday the upper classmen had arrived and all four dorms were hopping with activity. I used my last free time to send my new address to Alice, Josh, Eddie, Trisha and Marcy. I also wrote to my mother to give her my address and ask if she knew where Becky was going to college. Roland was not there when I went to bed at ten p.m...
There were lots of differences between Cromwell Military Academy and Pontiac College, the most noticeable being the presence of females in my classes. The other differences were the casual dress, lack of formality and disregard of the rules. We were left on our own to succeed or fail. That's what Mr. Oldham was talking about when he gave me the summer assignment. But mainly it was the girls. Their numbers were in the minority but their demands were made known, loud and clear.
Charlie and I had one class together and Angie Forbes was in my math class. If she recognized me from the restaurant she didn't want me to know about it. I had one class with Kent but otherwise, I was among strangers.
Roland's class schedule was a mystery to me. He was always there in the morning but I didn't see him at night for the first two weeks. It was a Tuesday night and I had been to the library. I heard voices coming from the room but I'll be damn if I was going to knock, and opening the door, I walked into the room.
"Get out, asshole!" Roland greeted me.
When I didn't move he jumped up off his bed and charged me. I was aware that his chest was bare as I dropped my book bag. I was also aware that a female was dashing from the room, holding her shirt over her chest.
I took a right to the left side of my face and blocked a left before he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the floor. I expanded my chest to keep him from crushing me. He had my upper arms pinned but I was able to get an inch of tummy roll between my fingers and thumb. He was grunting, trying to compress my chest. It took him two seconds to feel the clamp I had on his tummy fat. He increased the pressure, pretending I wasn't hurting him. So, I grabbed another hunk of flesh with my left fist. He screamed and released me, setting me down on his stocking-clad feet. I stomped his feet, producing a louder scream.
I became aware of Kent appearing at the door to the room and Skip at the bathroom door.
Roland swung both of his arms in an attempt to dislodge my grip on his gut but I absorbed the blows and held on. His fists battered my upper arms, time after time. I held on and squeezed tighter until his screams were reduced to a whimper and he dropped his arms to his sides. When I released my grip he swung at me and I let my fists fly, aiming first for the center of his chest and then for his jaw.
"That's enough!" I heard and popped the big man with one more jab to the jaw before one of two campus police pulled me backward by my collar.
One of the campus police took Roland to the clinic and the other one questioned me. I refused treatment at the clinic but let Skip put salve on my face and arms.
I was the only witness to what had happened; Skip and Kent hadn't seen what triggered the fight and they said they hadn't heard anything until Roland's first scream. They hadn't seen the girl and I didn't know who she was.
Roland didn't come back to the room that night. I went to bed, hurting. The next morning I had a shiner and my upper arms were black and blue. Other than my eye stinging and a little tightness across my chest, I felt fine.
I got called out of every class that day to be questioned by various members of the faculty, the Dean of Men, my advisor and the Chief of the Campus Police. I soon discovered that I was in trouble because Roland's account of what happened differed from mine. According to him, I had interrupted him and his girlfriend, became enraged and attacked him before he could get off his bed. I was teetering on expulsion from the school. None of the people who questioned me believed my story even though Roland was so much bigger than me. No one seemed to ask who the girl was in order to get her story either.
The next morning Roland was in his bed with the sheet drawn up over his head. I tiptoed around and managed to leave the room with him still asleep. In math class that day I noticed Angie Forbes turn and stare at me, aghast, like she didn't believe her eyes. There was nothing unusual about the way she looked at me; everyone looked at me the same way. I was sure they all believed Roland's insistence that I had been the aggressor.
The highlight of my day was receiving a letter from Trisha.
Thanks for sending your address at school. I haven't written for some time because I've been miserable. For the longest time I blamed you for pushing me into relationships that didn't work. But I can't stay angry with you. I'm beginning to believe your domino theory.
Don't get a big head yet. Nothing's proven but I'm beginning to think you may be blessed with some special power to see things.
There's a certain senior who's paying attention to me.
Your best female friend,
I would have liked to see Roland's stomach but he never showed it. He stayed under the covers until I left and never came back to the room until I was asleep. Well, I only pretended to be asleep. I spent a lot of sleepless nights, always on the alert in case he retaliated.
Marcy called on Saturday morning, wanting to know all the news. I hesitated telling her about the trouble I was in but she said she heard something in my voice and coaxed it out of me.
"How do you manage to constantly get yourself into trouble? Am I going to have to send my brother to bail you out?"
"Trouble's my middle name," I said, trying to hide the dejection I felt.
"Josh threw for one hundred and five yards yesterday," she said, changing the subject.
"And then he got picked off and they took him out," she laughed.
"Bummer, that reminds me. I'm playing touch football today."
"Do you think that's wise? Are you up to it?"
"I haven't been running since the fight but I'll be okay. It only hurts when I laugh and no one tells jokes when I'm around. They all think I jumped him," I said.
Marcy sympathized with me before telling me to be careful.
Our math class was matched against a computer science class in the intramural sports program. I had agreed to play because I was getting hostile stares and didn't want to give anyone reason to call me chicken. Besides, how tough could it be? It was touch football.
We had fifteen guys in the class and all but one had signed up to play. Our instructor said he couldn't make it to the game but he sent a practice-teaching student to coach us. The guy's name was Wallace Combs and he had never played.
There were to be two ten-minute halves per game. We lost the coin-toss and the computer class elected to receive. Mr. Combs sent eight of us out, telling us to pin the nerds back at the one-yard line. We failed.
I hadn't played touch football since the weekend Russell and I were confined to quarters four years before and I had forgotten how rough it could be, especially for someone with bruises on his upper arms and a black eye. The ten-minute halves took thirty minutes to play because the referees, two computer science upper classmen, called minor infractions and stopped the clock often for no reason. I played the entire game, blocked, caught passes and even carried the ball a few times. We won the game thirty-eight to thirty-six. Neither team could kick an extra point but we scored once on a two-point conversion.
When the game was over, most of the math class stood around congratulating each other and making plans for a celebration party. All I wanted to do was to take a hot shower and have Skip put some more salve on my sore arms.
I looked around to see Angie Forbes walking along side me. I stopped and she did too. We stood there looking at each other, me wondering why she had chosen this time to speak to me. Her hand went up to move her hair out of her eyes. She closed her mouth and licked her lips, like she was going to say something but didn't speak. I was becoming uncomfortable, not knowing what to say. "Thanks," I finally answered her.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, almost reaching up to touch my face and then drawing her hand back.
"Only when I laugh," I said.
She looked at me, strangely.
"My chest hurts when I laugh, not my eye," I explained.
"Then why did you play today?"
I looked at her, incongruous. How could I not play? "It was a game," I said, simply.
I could tell that she didn't understand but she didn't persist. I excused myself, telling her that I wanted to take a hot shower. I must have been twenty feet away when I heard her yell at me.
"Are you going to the party?"
"Maybe," I said.
I hadn't planned on attending the celebration party until I heard her ask if I were going. I didn't even know the time or place. I showered and not finding Skip, I put the salve on my arms myself. The stuff stunk but felt soothing. I spent the afternoon studying.
Charlie and I were having dinner in the cafeteria when Angie asked if she could join us. Charlie welcomed her, mistakenly assuming that it was him she wanted to sit with. He didn't know about the football game.
"What did you decide about the party?" Angie asked me, making Charlie's head pop up.
We went to the party that night and since I couldn't ignore Charlie, we took him along, passing him off as Angie's date. After that the three of us began hanging out together more often. Angie and I had two things in common. We lived in the same dorm and we were in the same math class. Charlie lived in the other freshman dorm and was taking accounting instead of math, but he had another reason for including himself in everything we did together; he was smitten with Angie.
We studied together, always at the learning center or in her room. She wouldn't come to my room and that was okay with me, I really didn't want to spend a lot of time there either. The three of us were practically inseparable until Halloween when I found myself alone with Angie. It was her idea to leave the party early, saying that she wanted to get up early to study for a test. Charlie offered to walk her to her room but was told that since I had to go right by her room anyway he needn't bother. I made the mistake of kissing her goodnight, causing the problem that came from it.
Angie kissed back and when I opened her door she let me guide her inside the room, toward one of the beds. Fortunately, it was the wrong bed. She stopped me in the middle of the room but continued to return my kisses.
"I've wanted to do this ever since that night in your room," she said, making me pull away from her.
"You know, the night you came in and found him trying to rape me. You were so sweet to..."
"What? That was you?"
She looked confused. "I thought you knew. If you hadn't come in when you did no telling what would have happened. I felt so bad when I saw how he hurt you."
I was livid. Did she not know how much trouble I was in? I had been warned; one more infraction of the rules and I would be expelled from the school. "Why didn't you come forward? You let them think I attacked him when you could have saved me from all this trouble!"
She fell apart and began to cry. "I was so ashamed. I let him lure me upstairs to that room and I nearly got raped. If I had come forward everyone would have known how stupid I was."
I left her crying, slamming her room door and the one leading to the hall behind me. For the next three weeks I studied alone and let Charlie hang out with Angie. I often saw them walking hand-in-hand or riding together in his car. I could have put a stop to it; one word about Charlie's girlfriend would have sent Angie scurrying the other way. Perhaps their being together was for the best. Margaret, to my way of thinking, was too possessive anyway. Beside that, I didn't want to face Angie and she clearly felt the same way.
First quarter finals were held the third week of November. When Ned picked me up on Friday, the seventeenth of November, I was confident that I had done all right on the exams. But hanging over me like a dark cloud was the prospect of getting booted out of school. One slip-up, the slightest mistake would mean the end of my short career at Pontiac and it would be Angie Forbes' fault.
Telling Mr. Oldham about my impending peril was going to be difficult but it was something that had to be done. At least he'd believe my side of the story. He knew I wouldn't lie to him. Thanksgiving holiday promised to be a dismal week for me.