Chapter 18: Heat Stroke

The week is going well. I stuck to my routine of getting up early and running with Rachel; some days, Chad joined us too. His scrapes and bruises from the fight he was in are fading, almost can’t see them anymore.

Abby and I meet for lunch every day in the Halsig Center and we can usually sit at our table by the window. On Tuesday while she is waiting for me to arrive, some dude is persistently hitting on her and will not take the hint that she isn’t interested. When I walk up and ask what’s going on, she tells him, “Oh, here’s my boyfriend now, let’s see what he thinks.” He finally backs off to go on his merry way. Buh-bye.

I like how she referred to me as her boyfriend.

Wednesday the 12th is my 19th Birthday. Mom and Dad called to wish me a Happy Birthday and tell me that she, Dad, and Luke are coming up for the day on Sunday to see me. Mr. Curtis said I could switch shifts with the other stock boy so I could have that day off to spend the day with my family. Could it be that man’s icy heart is warming up to me? I’m not dancing the jitterbug just yet, but I thought it was very nice for him to do.

All that day, I received texts and calls from friends and family. I made sure to call Tiffany being that we share the day as our Birthday. She’s doing great and told me about a month-long trip to sea on a research vessel she’s taking in the Spring for one of her Marine Biology courses.

That night Abby took me out to dinner for my favorite, crab legs. We ate at a nice restaurant called Jack’s Seafood in town - her treat. The waiter seating us asked, “A table for two, or will there be more joining your party?”

“It will just be my girlfriend and me,” I reply.

We have a great time and enjoy each other’s company. Abby orders herself a nice big steak while I devour all-you-can-eat crab legs and make quite a pile of empty shells. Over our meal, we’re still laughing about the rip-roaring, romping fun we heard Belinda having with Patrick the other night.

After we leave the restaurant, Abby looks up at me, “Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the first boy to call me his girlfriend.”

I stop and put my arm around her, “Abby, I’m honored to call you my girlfriend.”

I’m pretty sure I see a glint of a tear in her eye, and she keeps a smile on her face all the way home. And it’s true, I wasn’t just saying that because I knew it would make her happy, I really do feel special when I’m with her, she is my girlfriend.

Alex and I still haven’t had any sign of a prank retaliation from the guys in Room 408, maybe they’re waiting for us to let our guard down and do something stupid like leave our door unlocked - sorry dudes, ain’t gonna happen on our watch.

Abby and I spend the morning together on Friday till 1:00 pm, that’s when I need to be back to get ready for work at 2:00. After shopping at Wal-Mart to pick up a few things, we have lunch at Tony’s Brick-Oven Pizzeria. I asked her if she would like to meet my family when they come up on Sunday; I’m sure it will be fine for her to join us for dinner. She said she would love to.

Later, I text Rachel to see if we’re still on for our Saturday morning run tomorrow. She replies that she’s sorry she can’t this time, her cousin is here to visit and staying for the weekend. It’s okay, maybe I’ll give myself a needed break and sleep in for a change. I can always go running later in the day.

That night, some of the guys at the dorm and I went to Connor’s brother’s place for a few beers. We played a game called Cards Against Humanity. One player draws a card that has an incomplete statement and reads it aloud. The other players fill in the blank by choosing answer options from the cards they hold, the raunchier and more politically incorrect the replies, the better. It’s basically an adult version of the popular Apples to Apples game. It was pretty funny and we had a good time.

I slept in till 10:30 on Saturday morning, I needed it. If I hurry, maybe I can still catch a late breakfast at the cafeteria. Alex is still sleeping; he mumbles something unintelligible when I nudge and ask him if he wants to join me. Oh well, no biggie, I can go on my own.

Wow, talk about a warm one out here today! The weather app on my phone says it’s 92 degrees and is expected to go up to 96 for a high. Even in September, it’s not uncommon for Michigan to still see some very hot summer-like days. Might be a good day to stay in the air-conditioning and finish my homework; this way I’ll be all caught up because I won’t have much time to do it tomorrow.

I’m back to my room at 11:30; the late breakfast can also serve as my lunch so I’m good to go for a while. I put in a couple of solid hours of work at my desk, but I’m twitching and antsy as hell, I need to get out and do something. Maybe a swim in the pool might be nice? Or maybe a run? Maybe both? I’ll go for a short run, work up a good sweat, and then a nice cool swim will be perfect, that’s the plan.

I put on my thinnest running shorts, they’re as light as t-shirt cloth and great for keeping things aired out down there, and a white sleeveless AC/DC shirt that Dad gave me. Most guys would probably just run around shirtless on a hot day like this, but call me weird, but I’ve never felt comfortable without a shirt on in public unless I’m swimming.

Starting with an easy pace, I jog across campus toward town. My plan is to run up and down nearby side streets and then back. The stupid vending machines at the dorm were all out of bottled water, they need to do a better job keeping them stocked - hey, now there’s a job Alex could do. I’m sure I’ll pass a store, or a gas station and I can buy water to stay hydrated.

Off-campus, I pick up the pace to go along with the hard-driving rock and metal tunes I’m listening to through my earbuds. This isn’t so bad, I thought this heat would do me in a lot faster, but no, I’m good for quite a few more streets. I push on further and wind through some different parts of town I haven’t seen yet.

Here’s a neighborhood with all kinds of great big, beautiful houses that are all very well kept. I’m guessing this is where Northbrook’s top-paid professors must reside. I find a few small parks tucked in here and there that I never knew about. This is what makes my run interesting, finding new things keeps my brain entertained all while getting a great workout at the same time.

Feeling the heat starting to catch up, I better not go too much further. It would be a good idea to start heading back towards campus now, I’m beginning to feel a headache coming on anyway.

As I keep running, my head is really starting to pound and it’s getting noticeably worse the more I go. To tell the truth, I’m generally not feeling very good at all. To make matters worse, I forgot to buy some damn water. I shouldn’t have gone out this far in this heat. I slow down to a jog, better to coast-in slow than risk passing out from overexertion.

I haven’t been paying much attention to the street signs, but these houses look familiar, I think this is Abby’s street. If she’s home, maybe I can get a drink there. That’s her, she’s out on her front lawn watering the flowers. That cold water spraying from the hose sure looks great! And, wow, she looks so damn cute in her little jean shorts, light purple tank-top, and hair up in a ponytail.

“Hi, Kyle!”

“Hey,” I pant.

“What’s going on, you don’t look so good?”

“Just out ... out for a run,” I huff and puff. “Could I have some of that water?”

She drops the hose. “Not this nasty hose water. Come inside, I’ll get you some nice ice water from the kitchen.”

I follow her in and flop down on the couch in the living room. She comes back with a big glass of icy-cold goodness. I gulp it down and visibly wince in pain. The drastically colder liquid makes my head pound even worse - brain-freeze it’s called, but I need this water.

“Whoa, slow down on that! Take sips,” she tells me. “Why are you running around town when it’s 95 degrees out? What the fuck were you thinking?”

I look over at her and grin, “Hey, that was pretty good.”

“Pretty good, what?”

“The way you seamlessly slipped that fuck in there when you said what the fuck were you thinking? See, you’re getting the hang of it.”

“Oh, Kyle, this is not the time to analyze my swearing! I’m serious, look at you, you’re beet-red!” She puts her hand on my forehead, “And, burning up too.”

“It’s nothing ... I just overdid it a little bit,” I say as a wave of dizziness comes over me.

“That is not a little bit! You probably gave yourself heat stroke. Stay right here, I’m going to get something cold.” She comes back with a couple of damp wash clothes and lays them over my forehead. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I have one helluva pounding headache, I’m kind of dizzy and light-headed, sorta feel like I need to throw up-”

“Yup, heat stroke! You’re probably dehydrated. Didn’t you bring water on your run?”

“Fucking vending machines at the dorm were out.”

“Oh, Kyle, come on! That’s your excuse? You couldn’t have filled up any old bottle, or bought water somewhere.”

“I know ... it was stupid.”

“Yes, it was! I want you to lay down, we need to get your temperature down and get some fluids in you.”

I start to lay on the couch, but Abby stops me. “On second thought, come lay down in my room, it’s much cooler back there than it is out here.”

She helps me stand up. “I don’t want to put you out, Abby, I’m sure you have things to do. Can you just drive me back to the dorm? I’ll stay-put and rest there, I promise, no more running.”

Halfway across the room, I feel myself fade as I go lightheaded. Losing my balance and starting to fall forward, Abby catches me. “Nope! Let’s get you to my bed.”

She keeps her arm around my waist, holds my hand, and leads me to her room. Helping me sit on the bed, she hands me the water again. “Small sips this time.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, I want you to lay down and rest.” Abby takes off my running shoes as I lift my legs.

“Okay, Doc...” I mumble with a grin.

She sits down next to me. “This is serious, Kyle. You could have passed-out out there.”

“It’s weird because I was doing just fine, going up and down streets, then it all hit me so fast.”

Brushing my hair off my forehead, she lays on another cold washcloth.

“I hope I’m not keeping you from anything,” I tell her.

“No, you’re not. I wouldn’t have been able to drive you back to your dorm anyway. Belinda took my car, and I don’t know where the keys to hers are, she probably has them with her.”

“Why did she take your car?”

“I had it parked in the driveway, blocking hers. She’s too lazy to move it, or ask me to move it, so she just hopped in and took off with it instead.”

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah, what a bitch is right,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m going to finish watering and put the hose away. Stay right here, don’t you move, and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

She draws her curtains to dim the light, kisses my cheek, and goes back outside. Abby was right, this room is cooler than the living room, must be the way the air-conditioning vents work or something.

About fifteen minutes later, she comes back and sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better, but I’m so tired, I feel like I could take a nap.”

She touches my cheek. “It feels like your temperature is starting to come down. It would probably be good for you to sleep.”

“Are you sure it’s no trouble?”

“No trouble at all.”

As I’m dozing off, I hear Abby making a phone call out in the living room. I wonder if she’s chewing Belinda out for taking her car. Probably not, but, oh well, none of my business anyway. Even with me sleeping till 10:30 this morning, that sun and heat sure sucked all the energy out of me. It’s hard to believe I was so antsy just a couple of hours ago.

When I open my eyes, I can tell a few hours have passed by the change of illumination in the room, even with the curtains drawn. Abby is lying on the bed, snuggled up to me. Her arm is draped over me, and my arm is around her. I gently rub her back; she took good care of me today. Waking from her light sleep, she looks up and smiles, “How are you?”

“Pretty damn good now,” I nod.

“That’s good,” she kisses my cheek. “You had me worried there.”

“How long did I sleep?”

She looks at the clock on the nightstand. “About three hours.”

“Wow, it seems like I just laid down. Did Belinda ever come back?”

“No, she’s with Patrick. I’ll be surprised if she even comes back tonight.”

Abby rests her head on my shoulder, she’s drawing circles with her finger on my chest, “Can I ask you something personal, Kyle?”

“Sure.”

“Your first time; what was it like? Your first time having sex, I mean...”

“It was really nice ... pretty incredible.”

“How did it happen for you? Can you tell me about it? If it’s too awkward and you don’t want to, it’s okay ... I understand.”

“No, it’s okay. A couple of summers ago I was doing some side work for people I know that own an apartment complex. My job was to help paint empty units between tenant leases. I worked with their daughter who was a few years older than me, but we got along great. One day we were painting on a really hot day and took a break to cool off. We got to talking, talking about girls I liked, guys she liked, all sorts of things. Well, one thing lead to another, we started kissing and touching, and before I knew it, our clothes came off and we had sex.”

“So, it wasn’t planned or anything?”

“No, it just ... just sort of happened.”

“Were you nervous?”

“At first, but it went away.”

“Was it good, like, did it feel good?”

“Oh, yeah, it was awesome!”

“Did you have sex with her again?”

“Uh-huh,” I nod, “Every time we painted another empty apartment until she went back to college.”

“Wow, talk about a nice summer of first sex for you, huh?”

“It sure was,” I smile.

We lay holding each other for a while. I’ve never told the story of my first time to anyone before, but I feel comfortable enough with Abby to share it and I know she’ll keep it between us. Her finger finds my belly button and she’s wiggling it around in there.

“Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the night after that party?”

“I do...”

She makes a little giggle but doesn’t say anything.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s nothing...”

“Well, now you have me curious. What is it?”

She giggles again, “You’ll just think I’m crazy...”

“I already think you’re crazy, so it’s okay,” I joke.

She smacks my belly, “Do you want to hear or not?”

“Okay, okay...”

“Well...” she nervously proceeds. “Remember after I dumped the salsa, you came here, and we talked while I washed your jeans?”

I nod, I do.

“And I touched you ... down there?” she points to my waist.

“Yeah?”

“I know I was out of line to do that, but I really liked what I felt in your ... I think about it often.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Uh, huh,” she nods. I notice her hand has slowly been inching its way down. The little circles and figure-eight patterns she’s drawing are lower now and well below my belly button. “See, I told you, you’d think I’m crazy,” she whispers.

“I don’t think that’s crazy,” I say, continuing to rub her back.

“You don’t?”

“Nah...”

All this small talk about first times, of liking what she felt, and her playful finger-tickling of my lower abdomen has started to perk up the attention of a particular part of me. The small hump on the front of my running shorts is growing by a little bit. That little bit of growth is not going unnoticed as I see her taking occasional glances.

She looks up into my eyes and our lips join to kiss. We’ve kissed plenty of times before, but this time she opens her mouth and I open mine. Our tongues touch - she pulls back and whispers, “That feels so weird, but it’s so-” she doesn’t finish whatever it was she was going to say but goes right back in enthusiastically flicking her tongue around with mine. This is the closest and most intimate affection we’ve shown each other; I’m really enjoying this deep kissing and I’m certain she is as well.

She props herself up on one elbow to maneuver her face over mine, never breaking our passionate oral connection. Taking a chance, she places her free hand on the front side of my shorts to cup my bulge. I reach down and softly place my hand over top of hers, not to move it away, but to let her know I’m okay with her touching me on my private place. Fulfilling an inquisitiveness that’s been on her mind since the night we met, she begins to rub and discover very slowly and very softly. “Mmmmm...” I quietly hum, her hand feels nice as it traces the shapes of my parts within.

Passion follows an unscripted, albeit logical, progression. Wanting more direct contact, she wiggles the tips of her fingers just under the stretchy waistband and whispers, “Can I?”

“Yes,” I whisper back.

Abby grins and slips her hand inside to explore. In my patch of pubes, she pauses briefly to feel the soft and fluffy texture of them. A little further in, she slowly wraps her fingers around the tubular shape she seeks. “Oh, my!” she murmurs. “It’s so soft ... and so warm.” Lifting and bouncing it in her hand, she notes, “It even has its own weight to it.” The innocence of her impressions of touching a penis for the very first time is endearing; I’m so happy she’s open and shares things like she does. Gently rolling, squeezing, and fondling every part of it, she dons a curious look. “It’s getting bigger. Does this feel good?”

“Yeah ... It feels really good.”

She leans in and returns to deeply and passionately kissing me, all the while keeping her hand occupied in my shorts. It’s no secret that she’s been curious, and now with my cock in her hand, you could definitely say we’re taking things to the next level. Today this feels right, right for her, and right for me. The fact is, we both knew we were heading in this direction sooner or later anyway.

Her busy hand is making me so hard, that small hump I previously had is now a pyramid-shaped tent. If she was curious before, one can only imagine what she’s thinking now. Abby sits up and lightly tugs at my waistband, wanting to pull it down, wanting to see. I nod letting her know it’s okay.

First pulling my shorts down past my hips, she then slides my underwear down. When the stretchy band clears my hard-on, it pops straight up, standing at full attention. This causes a slightly startled Abby to snicker; it is pretty funny to see when it happens. Grabbing both my shorts and underwear, she pulls them past my ankles and the rest of the way off.

For her, having never seen a guy nude before and mine being the first, I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous - and excited too; her big smile quickly puts me at ease.

Starting with my dark private patch of curly hair, Abby combs her fingers through and traces around the outline. She has fun fluffing them up and playfully pulling to see how long the squiggly hairs are when stretched out straight.

Nudging me to spread my thighs, she looks lower with inquisitive interest at my scrotum. Hovering her hand over, she, once again, looks to me for permission if it’s okay to touch me here; I smile, nodding that, yes, it is. She gently rubs, feeling what my super soft and semi-loose boy-bag skin is like; the little micro ripples and slightly darker skin of testicles really is unique. She notices a slight contraction as they begin to tighten up from the attention. “Are you sensitive here?”

“Yeah, I am, but what you’re doing is fine.”

Touching more, she says, “This part of you is so soft and so delicate. I can feel your two little eggs in there.”

“Yeah,” I snicker, “That’s why they’re called balls.”

She has a giggle over it too and tells me, “I’ve always been especially curious about this part of a guy.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it’s so ... so interestingly different. I always wondered things like what it feels like to touch them, what those eggs inside that make your sperm are like ... silly, little girl stuff like that.”

“It’s not silly. You’re just curious and that’s perfectly normal, everyone is.”

Abby kisses me for understanding then refocuses her attention on my penis. Sliding her hand up and down the length a few times, she clutches, tightens, and untightens her grip several times to feel how hard it’s become. “Oh, this is nice!” she whispers. “It’s so stiff ... so solid ... I love it.” Rubbing the pad of her thumb over the surface of my glans, she remarks, “And I really like how smooth this part is.” Just below my glans, her fingertips slowly glide around the indented narrower part; I really like how she’s taking her time on every detail. I inhale a quick breath as she wiggles the tip of her finger in my little divot just below the head on the bottom side. Seeing my reaction, she asks, “Is this area special?”

“Yeah, it’s super sensitive, touching there feels awesome.”

Keeping her finger on my special spot, she gives a nice tickle-rubbing on it. Enjoying this, I close my eyes, clench my cheeks to push my hips up, and let out a low hum of pure pleasure. “Wow!” she laughs, “Now, I know how to get your undivided attention.”

“Mmmm ... Yeah, you do!”

I really like Abby’s meandering hands exploring everything. Sure, it feels good, but there’s more to it. Everyone can study pictures, but that’s all they are, two-dimensional images behind an unbreakable barrier separating the viewer from anything more. For her, right now, this is real hands-on human sexual discovery. I think we all deeply cherish the first time someone of the opposite sex allows us private access to intimately satisfy our natural curiosities. I’m actually very flattered that Abby is discovering the wonders of male anatomy with my male anatomy.

Abby lifts her tank top over her head and reaches behind her back to undo her bra. “Are you sure?” I quietly ask.

“Yes,” she whispers, grinning and biting her lower lip, “I want to.”

She lets her bra fall, baring herself to me, sharing herself with me. Her boobs are not huge, but they are slightly bigger than I was expecting. I think they’re beautiful! Her areolas protrude a little bit giving her breasts a sexy, pointy look. “Do you like them?” she asks, with a hint of trepidation.

“Oh, Abby, yes!” I say, sitting up. “They’re gorgeous!”

“You’re the first person I’ve shown them to ... I mean, other than my doctor, but that’s different. I have to show them to her because, well, you know-” she stops her nervous ramblings by taking my hands and placing them on herself. I gently caress each one loving her smooth feminine skin and warm softness.

When I brush my fingers over her nipples, she smiles and tells me, “That feels nice.” I trace around their shape, lightly pinch them between my fingers and feel them becoming hard. She puts her hands over mine, holding them tight to herself, “It feels so different having another person touch me like this.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

I gently kiss each of her breasts, taking her nipples between my lips. “Oh, Kyle...” she whispers, putting her hand behind my head, pulling me to her. I give each one a nice sucking on as she lets out a quiet squeal of exhilaration.