Chapter 2

Thursday October 16

You would think that after it became known that Bevin’s accounts were hacked, people would have had enough sense to change their own passwords, but many of them haven’t. In fact, new people are still signing up on the social media site. I’ve been bored - no friends, remember? - so I’ve poked around a little.

Ron, one of the residence assistants here in the dorm, is also a teaching assistant for my English 101 teacher, Dr. Welsh. Dr. Welsh is going out of town soon, and he wants Ron to respond to questions from students for him, so he sent Ron his own email password. Maybe I’ll take a look there some day.

My roommate Hailey signed up, too. She apparently writes emails to herself as a kind of diary. Check out what she wrote a couple weekends ago:

Lexi was asleep when got home last night. Her blanket was only partly covering her: there was an inviting opening between the blanket and her back. Her shirt was bunched up, so I could see the naked small of her back, and her adorable stripped panties. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed with her and press my body up against hers.

Can you imagine? She’d probably cut my throat on the spot. She’s usually pretty nice, but she also has this hard edge about her.

So I guess my roommate has the hots for me. I’m straight, but I guess it’s nice to be wanted.

Saturday October 18

I went to a frat party last night. Malik is one of the smarter guys in my Computer Science 101 class. I’ve been sizing up all of my fellow students in case we have to do some kind of group project. I don’t know whether to call him black or middle-eastern. He’s got cocoa skin and curly black hair - although not quite afro-curly. He probably has the brightest smile of anyone I’ve ever met, and an air of ease about him. He joked that the brothers in the fraternity he’s pledging had threatened to blackball him if he didn’t bring a pretty girl to the party. I’m not much for parties, but I do need to rebuild my social life, so what the hell.

I showed up at the frat house wearing blue jeans, a white strapless top, and some casual wedges. Malik introduced me around. “I guess we don’t have to blackball you after all,” said one of the brothers after overtly checking me out. We drank some beer and talked to people, drifting from one conversation circle to another. It was a pretty good time.

One of the fraternity members wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept trying to edge Malik out of the conversation and get me to leave the party with him. I found it tasteless. Eventually I flat-out told him, “Thanks, but tonight is my time to spend with Malik.” And then, to Malik, “Is there somewhere a little more private we can go?”

As Malik lead me up the stairs toward the bedrooms, I softly informed him, “We’re not going to have sex. I don’t want to lead you on; I just had to get away from that guy, and show him that I choose you over him.”

“Cool,” he said.

We sat on the bed talking - about programming languages, clueless teachers, and the history of beer. I told him about August, a boy from my past. He told me about Wendy, the girl he had dated all through high school. At one point, on a whim I said, “Can I hold your dick?”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to have sex,” he questioned.

“We’re not,” I replied. “It’s just - sometimes it’s nice to just hold a dick.” He shrugged, took off his jeans, and threaded his dick out the hole in front of his briefs.

As stupid as it sounds, I didn’t actually mean in a sexual way. But as soon as I grabbed his dick, the situation started feeling pretty damned sexual to both of us. His hard-on grew in my hand as I squeezed it and hefted it around. It was nice just to hold it for a while; it had been a long time since I had touched one. It twitched every once in a while, like a dog on a leash, begging to be taken for a walk. Eventually I just found myself stroking it, and Malik lay back and groaned. I thought about putting my mouth to it and turning this into a proper blowjob, but for some reason after making a big deal about not having sex, I felt like I couldn’t.

“Tell me about your last sexual fantasy,” I said, sliding my hand up and down his shaft with the patience of the ocean.

“Ah, okay. Well ... there’s this girl in one of my classes - really cute, really smart. Brown hair, glasses, fantastic hips...”

I cut him off. “Not about me.”

“Okay,” Malik said with a chuckle. “Well there’s this blond girl who works at the sandwich shop...” He told me his fantasy about going into the back room with this girl on her break. It was whimsical and sexy. There were flour-dusted boobs, and salami innuendos. I kept pace with the story, stroking him faster and squeezing harder as the heat of the story picked up. Right at the end, I spit in my hand and rubbed it on his cock head, making him come in perfect sync with his story. I caught all of his semen in my hand, and cleaned us up with some tissues.

“Will you let me return the favor?” Malik asked after he caught his breath.

“Not tonight, but thanks. I need to get going. I had a fun night!” I said.

Malik chuckled. “Me too.”

I should have fucked him.

Sunday October 19

So I snooped on Dr. Welsh’s emails today. They were boring. There were a ton of questions from students, of course, and some business stuff with school administrators and other teachers. There were a few about coordinating his vacation with his wife.