Chapter 1

"Oh fuck yes Aaron, give it to me!"

It was a phrase I had come to hear a lot ever since I started going to college. Peterson U was by no means the best for ... anything, really, but god damn if it didn't have the best girls on the planet. Every Friday night, like clockwork, I found a girl, danced with her, and was usually having my way with her in her dorm room. Tonight was no exception.

I thrust into her as hard as I could, loving life and loving the feel of the girl's beautiful, cute little ass. She couldn't have been any older than a sophomore, but I didn't really tend to mind. Age seemed to be invisible once kids were out of high school, in college, and mature enough to realize your age didn't really matter as long as you weren't breaking the law.

I grabbed the blonde girl's hips and thrust into her, enjoying how her body quivered as I shoved my whole eight inches into her. I reached below her and grabbed her tits - somewhat of an awkward angle, and there was barely anything to grab, but I still loved the sensation.

"Harder, Aaron! Harder!" The girl begged, lust and desperation fogging up her voice.

I chuckled at her. She was so easy to please. All of my conquests were. Foreplay was easy. It was all about her pleasure, and how she responds. Some girls were ready after maybe five minutes of me playing with their nipples, others needed some light fingering to really get them in the mood. By the time I'd resorted to licking their pussies, no one ever didn't cave. I guess I had what some people called 'the gift.' I could never describe it well, and God knows I was maybe the worst guy at sexting in the world, but when it came to showing a girl a good time, I knew what I was doing.

I thrust in and out, listening for the girl's pants and moans, timing my thrusts to help her reach a mind-blowing orgasm. I savored the feeling of her precious ass - it really was a work of art. If I weren't already deep inside her, I'd be on my knees in that moment, licking and kissing her cheeks for all their worth.

Each time I thrust into her, I made an effort for it to be deeper than the last, filling her up better and better each time. The girl was loving it, her voice an incoherent mess of shouts, pants, and words she couldn't even form thanks to how lost in her lust she was. She adored me. She worshipped me. She wanted me. And I was all too happy to return the favor for such adoration, drilling her with long strokes, long past the point of breaking a sweat with how much effort I put into going faster, all so she could have the roughest, deepest, best fuck of her life.

The girl's panting and moaning got shorter and closer to shrill screams, which was a telltale sign. I quickened my efforts, thrusting in and out farther to fill her up better. All too soon, the girl tensed up and her back arched. I thrust in one final time, keeping myself stationary so she could savor the feeling of me filling her up completely.

After a few seconds of gasping, then another few of silence filling the room, she exhaled sharply, signaling the blissful cooldown from her orgasm. Showtime, I thought to myself as I grinned evilly. Listening for the perfect moment, I found the opportunity, then, out of nowhere, started furiously pumping in and out of her beautiful tight pussy.

The way her skin rippled as I thrust her with force she didn't know I had, the shock painting her face as her head whipped around ... I lived for it. Just as I had suspected, her breathing quickened and I used her cooldown from her last orgasm to ride her back up to another one. If I thought she was moaning before, at this point I was sure she could have alerted people across campus what we were up to. As an added bonus, I smacked her ass a few times as I drilled her sweet, small pussy. She was bouncing back against me furiously, evidently loving what I was doing to her.

Just like last time, her breathing was quickening, except now instead of just shrill screams it was a chant of "Fuck, fuck, fuck" she was repeating, in between satisfied moans. Finally, she let out a prolonged "Fuuuuuuck!" while facing the ceiling, all while remaining still. Remaining buried in her, I leaned over and kissed her back tenderly, adding to what she was feeling. Yeah, I didn't get off, but so what? Sex was more than just a race to me - it was about who was in control, and that was me.

... Who was I kidding? Sex was a justification. Sex was a way to reassure myself I could do something correctly. I hated aftersex thoughts - I always loved to hide from the truth, but every time I had sex, I always had to deal with the guilt that washed over me after.

I looked at the girl with new eyes. Who the hell was this?! I didn't even know her name. What if she wanted something extra from what we just did? I was certainly going to disappoint her. Maybe it was all for the better that I practically never came when I was with a girl - I sure as hell didn't want to get a girl knocked up, and deal with her for the next nine months. I had enough trouble just dealing with myself - I sure didn't need a mini-me running around.

The girl sighed contentedly as I withdrew my deflating cock from her. "Holy shit." She mumbled happily. "You're the best fuck I've ever had in my life."

"I get that a lot." I shot back confidently, keeping whatever I was feeling internal. She got up off her knees and her back hit the bed as she sighed again. A few seconds passed and she patted the spot on the bed next to her, smiling innocently.

"I should probably go." I told her.

Her smile faded. "You didn't like... ?" She asked.

I sighed. "Look ... I'm an idiot sometimes. I don't really want to stay, that's all."

"Why not?" She asked me.

"Because if I stay and we get to know each other, feelings are going to develop, and they're going to be yours." I answered bluntly. "You're going to start liking me, and you're going to want to see me more often. I see what's coming and distance myself since I don't want anything serious. You can't get over me at this point so you call me a lot despite me not wanting to answer and both of us just become miserable because I had to listen to my dick instead of my head and fuck just one more college chick. You were great, babe, but you're not special. And I know you want to think you're special. That's why you should get attached to someone who thinks you are. I'd rather you get pissed at a stranger than have your heart broken by a friend. Got it?"

She said nothing at first, then inhaled slowly. "Whatever." She finally told me. "If you want to leave, no one's stopping you. Thanks for the night." She flatly told me. She pulled a blanket over her and turned away so that she wasn't facing me.

It always turned out like this. When was I going to fucking learn? 'No strings attached' were three words that just didn't exist in girls' dictionaries. You'd think after all this time I'd have learned, maybe just tried the whole girlfriend thing or even just stop having sex because this always fucking happened, but nope, I stupidly kept thinking 'This time is going to be different.'

I got dressed and left without another word. I hated the walk of shame I had to do. Being used to it just made it worse.

Dorm rooms were a fucking financial nightmare, so I'm really glad I just rented a place slightly off-campus starting in my freshman year. It was a really wise move. It was slightly inconvenient having to bus every day, but the savings were worth it. The only downside was, I never really got a say in how much privacy I would be getting.

As soon as I opened the door, still lost in my thoughts, I heard a very loud and peppy voice. "Aaron!" In from the living room bounced Chris, who hugged me immediately.

"Hey, Chris." I said to him flatly, annoyed by his constricting embrace.

He broke off the hug and pouted at me. "The bar wasn't good to you tonight, was it, sweetie?"

"I told you guys, I was just out studying." I lied. "I've got a big test about the Balkan Coast post-World War One coming up."

Chris wagged a finger in front of my face. "Don't even lie to me." He warned me in his flamboyant voice. "I know what you get up to. I know everything." His hips were cocked, which accentuated his hourglass figure quite well. I bet that's why Jerome waited until that moment to follow Chris into the coat room.

"Chris, leave him be." Jerome ordered in his low, gravelly voice. His natural disapproving look was displayed clearly on his chiseled face, and his judgmental blue eyes were fixed on Chris. "Don't make him uncomfortable."

"Aw, but Aaron's never uncomfortable about it." Chris whined. "Don't I get to ask him a serious question once in a while? We could do an intervention thing or something."

"Look, guys, I appreciate it, but I'm really fine." I protested. "I'll be fine. I'd just like to have some space."

Chris looked deep into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. "You have the most beautiful hazel eyes. I have never noticed that before." He finally spouted.

"Chris." Jerome said sternly. Chris pouted and backed away.

"Fine." He conceded. "But if you ever want to tell us anything, we're here for you." He joined Jerome and stole a quick peck on the lips from him.

"Chris, not in front of him." Jerome snapped.

"I don't mind." I waved them off as I took off my shoes and plopped down onto the living room chair. The duo followed, with Jerome sitting down on the couch and Chris getting into some kind of cuddling position with him. Us three sat in silence, watching TV, with Jerome lightly stroking Chris' hair.

"You guys." I lightly joked.

"You just said you didn't mind." Chris piped up.

"It's not that." I replied. "I think you've been here more this week than I have. When are you moving in with us?"

Chris grinned. "Yeah Jer. When am I moving in?" He asked teasingly.

Jerome groaned and buried his face in his hands. It was hard to see all of his face considering Chris' big hair was in the way. It wasn't long, it was just ... big. Almost poofy, but not frizzy. Just a big brown mess. Jerome's hair, on the other hand, was short, blond, and seemingly well-maintained. The two looked like they were straight out of a Neil Simon story. Mine was the usual short Italian black hair you saw in practically every mobster movie, minus the copious amounts of grease.

Chris turned his attention from Jerome to me. "We're working on it." He told me. "Jer Bear spent half the night making arrangements, doing phone calls..." He reached up and rubbed Jerome's cheek sympathetically. "It's been a rough night."

"I was about to say, it's past 2am." I pointed out. "I figured you guys didn't spend the whole night watching Sci-fi B-movies. Are you staying over, Chris?"

Chris nodded. "Sleeping on the couch again."

"I offered you my bed." Jerome pointed out.

"But then you'd have to sleep on the couch." Chris pouted. I knew a way that neither one of them had to sleep on the couch, but I didn't know how open they were about that kind of thing, so I kept my mouth shut. "I don't mind. It means I get to spend more time with you. And Aaron and Molly, of course." Chris added.

"Oh, right. Molly." I said nonchalantly. "How's she been tonight?"

Jerome shrugged. "Same as usual. In her room."

"Poor darling's been cooped up in her room all night." Chris interjected. "Studying and practicing, making sure she doesn't make a single mistake all year. You know, I think it's better to learn from mistakes in university than always be too prepared. Wouldn't you agree, honey?" He looked up at Jerome with his trademark puppy dog eyes.

"Sure." Jerome answered gruffly.

"But she does have the cutest button nose." Chris went on. "And her beautiful red, curly hair. And her deep brown eyes."

"What, you thinking of marrying her?" I asked Chris jokingly.

Chris smirked. "Call me when she gets a sex change, then I can leave this oaf." Chris prodded Jerome in the cheek, giggled, then reached up and kissed him on the nose. "Besides, they keep the same hours."

"Oh, she's still awake?" I asked disinterestedly.

Chris nodded. "Last time I checked, which was maybe half an hour ago, she was."

I shrugged. "May as well go see her then." I told them flatly. "Then I'm gonna hit the hay. You two have a good night."

"You too, sweetie." Chris merrily waved me off. Jerome merely raised his hand, eyes still fixed on the TV.

Molly, true to Chris' word, was in her room, eyes glued to her laptop screen. From behind I could see her tight-fitting shirt, hugging a modestly attractive figure. She was more than one step away from an hourglass, but truth be told, that was a-okay in my books. A lot of girls may have looked conventionally sexy, but Molly looked real. It was a nice change, especially considering what I got up to away from the house. Her red curls hung down past her shoulders, slightly down her back, covering some kind of casual sweatshirt. She was so married to her work that she didn't even see me come in, creep up behind her, and hug her from behind.

"Hey, you." I started warmly.

She gasped in surprise at the sudden, unforeseen contact, but quickly relaxed. "You scared me!" She accused lightly, trying awkwardly in her chair to return the hug.

"Sorry." I said lightly. "Whatcha working on?"

"A paper for my classics course." She replied, looking over the screen. "How'd your studying session go?"

"Like the rest, I guess." I replied, trying to be subtle about keeping my hands on her shoulders. "History's bland. Don't ever switch into it."

She chuckled. "I don't think a classics major is that much different." She told me warmly. "Just a few ... y'know ... thousand years."

" ... Yeah. Other than that, same thing." I teased.

"Shush." She giggled. "I would have thought you'd think it was too late to bother me."

"Chris tipped me off." I answered. "We were all upstairs, watching TV and he got onto the topic of how lovely your hair is and stuff."

I could practically hear Molly's smile. I could picture it even though I was behind her. "Aw, he's such a sweetheart." She said lovingly. "He should be more serious about school though. He has a performance exam on Monday."

I snorted. "Y'know, people complain about stereotypes, and there he is. Theatre major, leather vest, flamboyancy that would put Liberace to shame..."

"So?" Molly asked. "It's not like he's harming anyone with it."

"Oh, I'm not saying that." I protested. "I'm just saying that he's going to give people the wrong vibes. Some people get weirdly angry when people are like that."

"Maybe, but that's their problem, not his." Molly argued. "You're giving him a hard time because of who he is. Lighten up a little."

Why was Molly the only girl in the world I had no clue how to talk to? "Sorry." I mumbled lamely, gingerly taking my hands off of her.

She sighed. "No, don't be." She said, closing her laptop and whirling around her chair to look at me. "I've just had a long day. I hate studying."

"So do most students." I told her. "That's why they don't do it much. They just have fun instead. Remember 'having fun'?"

She chuckled and stood up, hugging me. "Maybe I need a refresher." She told me. "Maybe I'll do something fun on the weekend."

"There we go." I smiled and broke off the hug. "Maybe we could do something together. How about I take you bowling? My treat."

"Bowling?" Molly asked me incredulously. " ... Bowling?"

"Hey, you liked it in grade 9." I justified myself, shrugging.

"Oh boy. Four years ago. Thank you, Sir White Knight, for realizing that I never change." Molly took an over-exaggerated curtesy.

I laughed. "Alright, alright. Bowling's off the table." I let a pause sink in for effect before I asked, "So, when are you going to find your White Knight anyway?"

"I told you a thousand times, I'm not looking." Molly answered me. "I don't need to be part of a relationship to make me happy. I'm just fine on my own."

I shrugged. "Hey, sometimes, things just happen." I told her. "You may think you're fine on your own, but suddenly some guy comes up to you and bam! All of a sudden you can't think about anybody but him."

"So you keep saying." Molly told me. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were hitting on me."

"Well, good thing you do know me better then." I answered with a slight chuckle. "We wouldn't be a good match. The age gap thing would be too weird. That doesn't mean I'm blind to the fact that you're a good catch though. I don't want some guy seeing that and taking advantage of you. I just want to make sure you end up happy."

"Aw, I've got a big, bad older brother." Molly teased, before skipping up and hugging me again. "Thanks." She remarked as she broke the hug.

"You're worth it." I told her, using my finger to sweep a stray strand of hair away from her eye. She smiled up at me then looked down, and her eyes remained glued to my pants. "Uh, Aaron..." she started.

"What?" I asked.