Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, First, Slow, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Les is a sophomore engineering major who has just been dumped by his girlfriend, Lori. Although hurt and not ready to meet someone new, Les caves in to his roommate's suggestion that he have a blind date with Donna, one of Lori's friends. The evening turns out poorly. Despondent, Les composes an email to Lori that backfires badly. Sensing malice in how Lori is treating him, Donna attempts to intervene.

Lester stalked into his dorm room, shutting the door loudly behind him. He flopped, face-down onto his bed.

"Les?" his roommate asked. "Something wrong?"

"Leave me alone."

"What happened?"

"I said, leave me the fuck alone!" He drew in a breath. "Lori dumped me, okay?"

"She dumped you?"


"Did she give you a reason why?"

"Yeah ... she said it wasn't going to work out." He let out an exasperated groan. "I thought she was the one, Jon. I really did."

"She's a pretty girl," Jon remarked. "Tall, slim, redhead with sapphire-blue eyes..."

"Don't rub it in."

" ... figure like a model's and long, sweet legs ... How far did you get with her? First base even?"

"Shut the fuck up, will you?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Give her a while to cool off and then give her a call."

"Good luck with that. You will need it."

Les stepped into an empty study room on his dorm floor and closed the door. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and brought up his address book. Les stared at the screen for a long moment; then he selected Lori's number and initiated a call. He could hear the ring signal.

Hello, Les...

"Lori ... I ... I was hoping ... Lori -- I want us to be back together. Look -- if it was something I did..."

Les -- it wasn't you. It's me ... I didn't make this decision lightly, Les. But, it is final.

"I see..."

Les -- there's a girl on my floor. Her name is Donna -- Donna Logan. She's a nice girl and she hasn't had luck with any of the guys over here. She's wanted to meet someone from Tech but doesn't know anyone. I thought maybe you'd like to meet her...

"Lori -- I dunno..."

I think you'll like her. She likes the same sort of stuff you do, Les ... books and films and such. I'll text you her number...

"Do what you want, Lori."

Can I tell her to expect your call? He was silent for a long moment. I'm sorry, Les but this is how it has to be. Will you call her?

"I'll think about it."

Thanks, Les. I'm really sorry.

"Yeah ... Me, too. Goodbye, Lori..." He cancelled the call, headed back to his room and threw himself onto his bed.

"How did your call to Lori go?" his roommate asked.

"How do you think it went?"

"By the looks of you I think it went as I expected it would go," Jon replied. "Don't be so glum. There are other girls out there."

"Yeah ... The ones here are all either taken, ugly or fat."

"There are plenty over at State."

"As a matter of fact Lori gave me the number of one of her friends over there ... a Donna someone."

"You gonna call her?"

"A blind date? I don't think so."

"Why the hell not?" Jon asked. "What's the harm? The more your name circulates over there the better your chances."

"I'm not interested in anyone other than Lori," Les replied. "She's ... special. I remember taking that bus ride home and we got caught in the snowstorm and were stuck on that off-ramp for two hours ... We talked and talked like we'd known each other for years."

"Lots of times these things don't last, Les. Do you know what the odds are of any random relationship enduring?"'

"No. What are the odds?"

"Well, I don't know, either. But it has to be pretty small."

"Easy for you to say. Lexie is wearing your ring."

"Okay -- maybe I'm luckier than most. If it's really the splits for you and Lori -- what's the harm in giving Donna a shot?"

"It's a blind date, Jon."

"So what?"

"I don't do blind dates. I want to know what I'm getting into before committing to an evening's block of time."

"Look at it this way: Best case scenario is she's drop-dead gorgeous ... makes Lori look like the dog's breakfast. She's your soul mate and you have a lifetime of happiness together. Worst-case scenario -- she's fat and ugly with hairy legs and a laugh like a hyena. You say, nice meeting you and never call her again."

"No -- worst case scenario is she's fat and ugly with hairy legs and a laugh like a hyena who turns out to be one of those stalkers they profile on 48 Hours. She makes my life miserable and I need to take out a restraining order."

"What are the odds of that?" Jon asked.

"About the same as the odds she's my drop-dead gorgeous soul-mate."

"So, you're not going to call her?"

"No, I am not."

Les punched in the number Lori had texted him. It rang.


"Donna? My name is Les ... Lester young. Lori gave me your number."

Yes ... She said you might call.

"I know it's short notice but ... tonight the Tech cinema society is showing a film I've been wanting to see. I was wondering if you'd like to see it, too."


"The film starts at seven. How about we meet at your dorm at six-thirty?"

Okay. Fine. I'll be looking for you.

"See you then." Les cancelled the call.

"Well?" Jon asked. "Was that really so painful?"

"If I end up needing a restraining order, you're paying the attorney's fees. Let's go get some dinner."

Lester made the hike from his dorm, across the river, through town and to a corner. Ahead was the Tech academic campus and to his right, about another ten minutes away, was Sate. He crossed the street, turned and headed in that direction. Soon he was in the lobby of the dormitory in which Lori had her room.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, punched in Donna's number and sent a text:

Donna its Les. Im in the lobby.

A reply was forthcoming. B rite down.

Lester paced in the lobby. The door to one of the residence wings swung open and two young women approached him. One was tall, standing nearly six feet. She was slender with her bushy red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had brilliant blue eyes, an oval face with high cheekbones and a cute, turned-up nose with a scattering of freckles on either side.

"Hi, Lori," he said.

"Les," she replied cordially, "this is my friend Donna Logan. Donna -- this is Les Young."

He regarded Lori's companion. Donna was on the high end of petite, about a five-foot four brunette. Her dark brown hair fell below her shoulders in an informal shag. She had brown eyes, a round face with a strong nose that had a hint of a bump near the bridge. Donna was large-framed, curvaceous and slightly overweight.

"Nice to meet you, Les," she said.

"The film starts in half an hour," he replied. "We should have plenty of time." He turned to Lori. "Nice seeing you again."

"Have a good time," Lori said and then turned toward the door leading to the residence wing.

Donna accompanied him as he headed back toward his own territory. "Where is this film showing?" she asked.

"One of the lecture halls. Our cinema society is screening it. It's free for me and only a couple of bucks to get you in. They also sell popcorn, candy and sodas."

"What can you tell me about this film?"

"It's Week End by Jean-Luc Godard. He was a member of the Nouvelle Vague or the..."

"The new wave," she said.

"Right -- the New Wave. Do you know about that?"

"No ... but I know what nouvelle vague means."

"Ah ... You speak French."

"Oui," she replied.

"Well ... I don't. Godard was a bit of the bad boy of the New Wave. His films have an edge, an anarchy beyond those of his compatriots."

"Les ... Les ... Can we slow down? I'm having trouble keeping up."

"I'm sorry." Les slowed and shortened his strides. "I'm accustomed to walking. Our dorms are a mile away from the classrooms."

"You have to walk a mile and back every day?" she asked.

"Twice a day if I want lunch in the cafeteria. You get used to it. I can make the walk in twelve minutes if I have to. You wouldn't save much time driving, with the lights and the traffic and cruising around looking for parking -- maybe five minutes, tops. Sometimes I make the trip three or four times a day."

"Well ... I'm not used to it and I don't think I'm wearing the right shoes."

"We're almost there."

Lester led her into one of the lecture halls. By the entrance students had set up a card table. He presented his student ID and handed over two dollars for Donna's ticket. "Popcorn?" he asked.

"I'm good for now."

"Okay ... maybe later."

He found a pair of seats near the aisle. "This film is considered a classic," he remarked. The lights dimmed and the film began. "It's renown for this long tracking shot of the traffic jam," he whispered. Donna nodded in comprehension.

The tracking shot ended with a scene of a serious car accident and bodies on the pavement. Donna winced.

The plot descended into a horror of anarchy. Donna turned her face. "Les," she whispered, "can we leave?"

"If that's what you want."

"Yes. It's what I want."

They headed for the exit. "Not exactly a date movie," Les remarked.

"Not exactly."

Outside he could see Donna was agitated. "Something wrong?" He regarded her. Donna was trembling and appeared agitated. "Want to sit in the Union and talk about it?"


Les bought a pair of sodas and handed one to her. She was brushing tears from her face. "Donna -- what's wrong?"

"That scene..."

"The one with them slaughtering the..."

"Yes, that one -- it triggered me, Les."

"Triggered you?"

She drew in a deep breath. "When I was nine or ten my father was called up in the reserves to go serve in Iraq. He served a two-year tour. My mom couldn't handle it. She started doing drugs ... lost her job and started dealing them to make ends meet and to support her habit. She was arrested and sent to jail for a year."

"Donna -- I'm so sorry..."

"My sister and I were sent to live with an uncle ... who has a pig farm. I was so miserable there ... the smell, the filth ... The worst of it was that fall when I had to help with hog butchering." She brushed more tears from her face. "I had never seen anything die before. It was horrible ... turned me into a vegetarian."

"Are you still a vegetarian?"

"No. Not so much, now."

"Gosh, Donna -- I'm so, so sorry."

She drank some of the soda. "I'm okay, now. Just ventilating it helped." Les drained his cup. She handed him hers. "I think I'm done, here."

"I'll walk you back to your dorm."

"Yes. I think we should go."

Wordlessly the two made the hike back to State. He held the door to her dorm lobby for her and they stepped inside. "Well ... Good night, Donna."

"Good night, Les." She used her student ID to open the door to the residence wing and disappeared from his view.

Muttering profanities under his breath he made the long walk back to Tech and unlocked his dorm room, finding it empty. He flipped open his laptop and powered it up.

The door opened and Jon stepped in. Les looked up. "Were you playing cards?" he asked.

"Yeah..." his roommate replied.

"How did you do?"

"I won eight bucks." Jon removed his light jacket and draped it over his chair. "How went the date?"

"Don't ask."

"She was that bad? Let me guess ... fat? Ugly? Hairy legs?"

"No ... Donna was okay."

"What's she like?"

"Oh ... Medium height, brunette ... Not bad looking ... Not an embarrassment to be seen with. She does look like the sort of girl who put on her freshman ten ... before she came here."

"In other words, like eighty percent of the girls over there."

"Yeah ... No, Donna was okay. It was the date that was the disaster."

"Disaster? How?"

"The cinema club was screening Week End."

"I don't know it."

"It's a French film from the sixties. Shows what kind of film buff I am. It had stuff in it that's inappropriate..."

"Inappropriate? For mixed company?"

"For anyone. There's a scene about two-thirds of the way through where they butcher a hog on-screen. At that point we walked out."

"Special effects?"

"Jon -- this was a French film from the sixties. I'm sure that hog made the ultimate sacrifice for the film's art. It turns out Donna had to live on a hog farm for a while when she was little and she witnessed hogs being slaughtered. That scene triggered her. I've never seen someone so upset."

"Upset? Was she crying?"

"Yes, she was crying. I felt awful ... like a real douchebag. Once she settled down I walked her back to her dorm. End of date."

Jon let out a low whistle. "You're wrong, Les. That wasn't a disaster. That was an unmitigated disaster." He regarded his roommate. "What are you doing?"

"Composing an email."

"To Donna? Maybe you can salvage something with her."

"No. To Lori."

"To Lori?"

"Jon -- one thing tonight drove home to me is that I don't want to date Donna or any other girl. I want Lori, and I'm telling her that. I'm also saying I appreciate her gesture in setting up the date, that I thought Donna was nice but it was really her I wanted, and if there was any way I could get back into her good graces -- anything I could do -- I would do it ... Not in so few words, that is."

"Don't do it, Les. Better to just walk away."

"I can't get Lori out of my mind. She's driving me crazy."

"Walk away. Now you're sounding like one of those stalkers they profile on 48 Hours." Les continued typing. "Don't send it, Les. It won't work."

"I'm desperate ... but I'm trying not to show it."

"Girls can smell desperation ... like a skunk at a garden party. There's no way you can hide it."

"Jon -- I'm down three points in the fourth with seconds left on the clock. This is a seventy-five yard Hail Mary pass..."

"And, how often do you see those work?"

"It only has to work once. If it doesn't -- no further harm than is already done."

"Don't, Les. You will regret it."

"Too late -- I just did."

"You'll be lucky if she even replies to you."

"The deed is done. No matter what, nothing can make me feel worse than I already am."

Les sat staring at his laptop screen, repeatedly pressing the Refresh key. The next thing he knew Jon was nudging him awake. "Les ... Les ... You're getting drool all over your keyboard. Why don't you go to bed?"

"Yeah..." He glanced at his screen and saw that he had a new email message. "Look -- it's a reply ... from Lori." Les fumbled for the mouse and opened the message.

"What does she say?"

"She says ... she doesn't want me contacting her anymore." He sighed, planted his elbow on his desk and cradled his forehead.

"I guess that's that," Jon remarked.

"Yeah ... That's that..." Les deleted the message and all the others she had sent him. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and deleted entries for Lori and Donna from his address book. Then, Les flopped on his bed in his clothes.

Les sat at his laptop as daylight streamed into the ceiling-high window. "Morning," Jon called to him.

"Yes, it is indeed morning."

"Got any plans?"

"Time to focus on work," Les replied. "We have exams coming up and a couple of reports due..."

"Why don't you give Donna a call? Offer her a make-good date?"

"Are you kidding? After that disaster? I'd be surprised if she even answered my call. Besides -- I've already deleted her number."

"You've burned your bridges, Les. I thought you said she was a nice girl."

"I don't want anything to remind me of Lori or that fucked-up excuse for a blind date. Nope. It's back to square one for ol' Lester..." He mused for a long moment. "Maybe I'll do a web search for seminaries. If I'm going to be celibate -- I might as well consider going into the priesthood."

"But Les -- you're an atheist!"

"You know -- a nice structured life in a cramped monastery cell where you're not distracted by the female of the species wearing tight-fitting short-shorts and low-cut, midriff-baring tops and flip-flops, their long, sleek legs glistening in the sun and shiny, long hair in bouncy ponytails ... nothing but meditation and hard work, three squares provided ... Up at dawn, to bed at dusk ... Day after day ... no other cares ... That does have some appeal right at the moment."

"Cheer up, Les. You'll get over it."

"Yeah, I'll get over it. I always do. This was the worst one, yet, though..."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / First / Slow /