Spiked

I was nearly there, and I whimpered into the darkness of my bedroom, knowing I was a moment away from orgasm.

It’s my fantasy— it’ll happen my way.

Jacob would have reached around me easily, so large in comparison to my tiny frame, pressing against my clit as he continued to pound into me, and I’d hear him groan behind me. Quietly, almost impossible to hear— he wouldn’t want me to know how close he was, but I’d be able to feel it in the way his cock was growing ever-harder inside me. I felt the rush— in real life and in my fantasy— of my orgasm finally swelling, and I groaned as I started to cum, a rush of heat and tingling sweeping through my body.

I cried out, something I’d never done before, but it was all so much, so overwhelming, and I could feel him in me, feel him possessing me in the most intimate of ways. His name— I cried out his name and despite the want to close my eyes and regain control, I stared hard at the photo on my phone as the orgasm tore me to pieces.

When it was through, I felt dissolved— a puddle of sweat and wetness and exhilaration. I finally lowered my phone, staring at the ceiling, and the less pleasant parts of the evenings felt worlds away. Nothing would ever come of this, of course, but I couldn’t help but feel appreciative toward Jacob Everett— one look at a party, and in the end I’d had one of the greatest orgasms of my life.

Still, I thought as I closed my eyes and sighed. I wish I knew what it’d actually be like to have him fuck me.

5

Jacob Everett was a problem.

Well, no, he wasn’t a problem— but the memory of him, and how thinking of him had made me feel…that was a problem. I had never had trouble focusing on school before, my hunger to put a check mark beside the “studied for two hours” line of my to-do list was usually the big priority in my life.

Now, though, I found myself thinking of Jacob in the middle of class. After class. At the library. And perhaps, worst of all, late at night, when I fought fantasies of him off for hours before finally giving in and touching myself to the thought of him on top of me.

So, yes, Jacob Everett was a problem.

Two weeks into the semester, I woke on a Saturday morning to find Piper and Kiersten were buzzing around the common area in Harton green sundresses, hair pulled up and makeup flawless. The fact that they were awake before me was remarkable— I rarely saw them before noon.

“You guys are up early,” I noted blearily, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s game day,” Piper said brightly, like it was Christmas or her birthday or the first day of eternal world peace.

“Oh. I didn’t realize,” I said. “Are you going? This early?”

Kiersten looked a touch offended, but went on, explaining as though I didn’t speak English. “It’s a three-thirty game, so we’ll go tailgate with some friends in about an hour until it starts. We don’t have tickets. Hardly anyone gets lottery tickets to the season opener, except seniors.”

I nodded. “Right. Anyway, I was just going to run down to the grocery store and get some cereal and stuff, so I guess I won’t see you guys till after—“

There was a quick knock at the door that cut me off mid-sentence. Piper and Kiersten looked at each other, clearly confused; Kiersten was the one that finally walked over and answered the door. On the other side was a muscle-y guy wearing athletic shorts and a Harton Rams jersey. It took a moment, but eventually I remembered the guy from Football House— one of the freshman football players.

“Hey, I’ve got a letter for—“

“Oh my god,” Piper said, bouncing up and down on her heels.

“Is it from Jacob?” Kiersten asked him frantically.

“Yes,” he said, hesitant in the face of their gushing.

“Oh my god,” Piper squealed even louder, then snatched the letter away from the freshman. “I knew it. I knew it’d be me for the first game!”

“Open it open it open it open it,” Kiersten said. “Hurry!”

I swallowed nervously as Piper tore open the envelope. Was this the invitation that bartender told me Piper was after— was Piper going to be the one to suck Jacob’s cock before today’s game?

My inner feminist recoiled in horror at the notion, and yet I found myself growing envious, then hurt, that Jacob could look at me the way he had at the party but still come to Piper this morning.

“These are tickets!” Piper said, sounding alarmed and angry. She spun around to face the freshman player. “Where’s my locker room pass? Don’t I get to see him before the game?”