I met Trent, for the first time, my Sophomore year. I was still living on campus even though half of my friends lived in the apartment complex a few blocks away. I just didn't want to take on any more responsibility than I had to. Maintaining a dorm room and going to class every day was quite enough responsibility for me.
I saw Trent the first time at lunch. He took his lunch, tray and all, and headed back toward the dorm rooms. Being the semi-responsible, 19-year-old that I was, I was scandalized because I knew we weren't allowed to take trays out of the lunchroom. The only other time I'd seen it happen was right after Christmas break when a few morons had decided to use them as sleds on the back hill. No one said a word to him.
For reasons unknown, I decided to gather up my lunch and follow him. I did not bring the tray.
That was when I discovered that he lived right across the hall from me. How I had not noticed this piece of walking sin before was beyond me. Trent is very very good looking. He probably stands about 6'4", lean build, spiky black hair and very dark blue eyes. At least they are usually very dark blue. Sometimes they are black. Completely black. The pupil, the iris and even the "whites" of his eyes are black. The first time I spoke to him, his eyes were black.
I think I must have startled him there in the hallway, both of us unlocking our doors simultaneously, when I said "Hi.". His dark head whipped around in my direction and his even darker eyes scared me so badly I dropped my lunch. In a moment he had unlocked his room, set his tray down inside, and was back out in the hall helping me pick up the remains of my lunch. His eyes were blue again.
I stammered some kind of thanks and started to head into my room. I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me the other way, but when I turned around he was still on the other side of the hall, watching me. He motioned with his head for me to follow him into his room. Although you'd think I would be totally freaked by now, I followed him into his room. The door closed automatically behind us.
And so began my "relationship" with Trent. We met for lunch everyday in his room. Sometimes in the evenings, alone in my room, I would feel a tug on my hair or my hand and I would go to his room to find him waiting for me. Sometimes we talked, most of the time we didn't. If there was any talking going on, it was me telling him about myself, my family, my interests and my daily life. I tried once or twice to ask him about himself or his family, but he would just shake his head and somehow get to me talking about myself again.
I was incredibly attracted to Trent, but he never made any kind of move on me and I was more than a little afraid to be that bold with him. Just having his eyes on me made me squirm. He always took note of that and smiled his secret little Mona Lisa smile.
Never think that Trent was celibate or even gay. He just wasn't pursuing me. I found out a few months into our "relationship" just how much he liked the ladies. And how much they liked him.
I was in bed trying to sleep, half wondering why Trent hadn't invited me over and half worrying about a Western Civ class I had the next day, when I heard someone screaming his name. Not moaning, not yelling, but screaming. This being a dorm room, I did not assume someone was being hurt. Instead, I assumed correctly that someone was getting the fuck of her life.
I crept out into the hall and found that Trent's door was cracked open. Sure enough, a redhead from my College Algebra class (I think her name was Holly) was on all fours getting plowed from behind by Trent.
Although the room was dimly lit and my view was limited by the door, I could see enough to realize two things: Trent definitely knew how to fuck and Holly had a really big ass.
Looking away from Holly's huge backside, I enjoyed the opportunity to look over Trent in the buff. That's when I realized he was watching me. And his eyes were not only completely black, they were glowing.
Now, I was freaked. I turned away from the door so quickly that I slipped on my socks and landed on my backside. As if the racket I was making wasn't enough of an embarrassment, when I fell my feet kicked the door wide open.
Trent was still watching me and still thrusting faster. Holly was oblivious, lost in the pleasure she was evidently receiving. I scrambled to my feet and back into my room, locking the door behind me.
Hours later, I was still awake, sitting at the computer, and attempting to concentrate on an IRC chat room. I kept replaying what I'd seen over and over again in my mind. The scene had lost it's freakishness and now just served to turn me on. I began fantasizing about me being in Holly's place and the feel of Trent pushing inside me. I decided to head back to bed and try to relax myself by taking matters into my own hands.
Someone knocked on my door. Although he'd never come to my room before, I knew it was Trent. I refused to answer and sat perfectly still, not making a sound.
He said my name and told me he could hear me breathing. Still, I didn't move. I heard him sigh. He opened the door and stepped inside. I knew without a doubt that the door had been locked.
He didn't say anything. He lifted me out of my desk chair and hugged me. It was the very first time Trent had ever even touched me. I knew that the feel his body against mine was going to be enough to fuel my masturbatory fantasies for years to come. It also made me want to cry. I didn't realize how much I'd considered Trent "mine" until that moment. I took advantage of the situation and positioned myself closer to him, pressing my nose into the side of his neck and inhaling his scent. He smelled like sweat and sex. Too bad it wasn't from sex with me.
We stood that way, pressed together, for quite some time. I could definitely feel an erection pushing into my stomach. The feel of it made me want to smile and pull him down to the floor with me. Just as I started to work up the nerve to start taking things in that direction, he pulled back. His eyes were black again.
He said goodnight and went back to his room. I don't think I slept at all that night.
From that point on, Trent and I had an unspoken agreement. Most nights I stood outside his slightly open door and watched him stick it to the lucky girl of the evening. I liked to watch him and he liked to be watched. What I really wanted was to be that lucky girl of the evening, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen.
However, Trent only had eyes for me. No matter how beautiful the girl was, he still stared at me, hidden in the doorway. Those glowing, alien-like, black eyes stared at me as I watched him slide in and out of her.
We still met for lunch each day. Sometimes I talked, sometimes he played his guitar, and sometimes we took a nap together. We slept inches apart on his bed and he never ever touched me. Once I pretended to be asleep, rolled over towards him and reached out to touch his chest. My wrist was immediately pinned to the bed. I opened my eyes to find that he wasn't touching me, but was glaring at me with his pretty blue eyes. I mumbled an apology and rolled back over the other way.
One afternoon as we were napping, I heard someone knocking on my door. My art teacher (the class had a fancier name, but I could never remember it) was there to nag me about my mid-semester project, which I had done little to no work on and was due in a month. I had to submit three pieces, all nudes, in three different styles and/or medium. What I wanted was to ask Trent to strip and let me paint him. Maybe we could find some chocolate-flavored body paints and after application he'd let me lick it off...
Knowing that was not going to happen, I conned a couple of my friends into letting me paint them nude. Trent graciously offered up his room as art studio. Somehow I knew he had an ulterior motive.
Jenny, who I hadn't known very long, but genuinely liked, was my first victim. Or should I say Trent's victim. Jenny is petite, with softly rounded curves and really long blond hair. She was more than a little nervous about getting naked in front of Trent and I. I set up my borrowed easel and paints and by that time, Jenny had stripped and reclining as I'd asked in the red wing-back chair. I worked silently, glancing back and forth between the canvas and Jenny. The chair was offset and her curves made really nice shadows and contrast that I struggled to capture on the canvas.
Eventually, I got to the point where I was simply concentrating on the painting and didn't really need to look at Jenny. I was almost finished. That's about the time I heard her start to moan.
Trent was on his knees in front of Jenny, his face buried in the blond curls between her legs, his tongue the culprit behind her moans. His eyes were on me and they were glowing. He lifted Jenny out of the chair, sat himself down and slowly impaled her on his cock. Her short legs dangled over the arms of the chair. Effortlessly, he lifted and lowered her, faster and faster.
I couldn't look away. I knew Jenny would never in a million years have sex with a stranger, let alone in front of someone else, yet here she was, bouncing away like a kid on a pogo stick. I was incredibly turned on. Unconsciously, I reached up to touch my breast and an unseen hand stopped me. I guess that was against the rules of our unspoken agreement.
As with all good things, the show came to an end. Jenny, looking tired and dazed, pulled her clothes back on and left.
I couldn't really explain why, but I was incredibly angry with Trent. I guess it was mainly because he had seduced my friend. The nameless (for the most part) girls I watched him fuck were one thing, but for him to do that to my friend and in front of me, angered me to no end. For the next few days I spent my lunch time in the cafeteria and refused his unseen, but definitely felt invitations to watch him in the evenings.
Thinking that I had probably made my point clear, I arrived at his door about a week later. Pencils in hand and dragging in another friend, Cheryl, I set up shop in his room as soon as he opened his door. I threw a burgundy velvet blanket on his bed and asked Cheryl to undress and recline there. Cheryl looks very different from Jenny. Cheryl is tall, slender and leggy with warm, brown eyes. I was anticipating that the burgundy would look spectacular against her glossy, chestnut hair and golden skin.
Cheryl is also an exhibitionist, so she had no problems with going buff. After giving Trent what I felt was an intimidating glare and warning, I started to sketch out the outline for the drawing. Again, it wasn't long before I was concentrating more on the drawing than I was on Cheryl. And again, it wasn't long before I was hearing Cheryl purr deep in her throat.
Cheryl's long legs were up in the air, her ankles resting on Trent's shoulders as he pushed inside her. I could see the muscles in his ass clenching as he thrust deep. His eyes were black and glowing and staring directly at me. I was angry. I was so incredibly angry. But at the same time, I felt my nipples pucker into hard little points and a sudden moisture between my legs. I realized then that I wasn't really angry that he was fucking my friend. I was angry because he wasn't fucking me. I was angry because he tormented me constantly with this erotic image, but refused to give me any satisfaction. I was so damn tired of this game.
But I stayed. I stayed until Cheryl groaned her release and then clumsily stumbled around the room gathering her clothing. I stayed until she left and Trent pulled his jeans back on. I stayed until he started towards me, his odd black eyes looking strangely sad. Then I left. If he would have touched me, I would have either castrated him with my bare hands or collapsed into a sobbing mess on the floor.
The next day in class I realized I hadn't seen Jenny since the first episode. She was back in class that day. Her normally rosy face was pale and she had faint blue smudges under her eyes. She said she'd been out with some kind of flu and was finally feeling better. Neither of us mentioned what had happened in Trent's room. In fact, Jenny didn't seem embarrassed about it at all. It was as if it never happened.
On a whim, I walked the few blocks it took to get to Cheryl's apartment. Cheryl's roommate, Kelly, answered the door. She said Cheryl was really really sick and she hoped I could talk her into going to the hospital. Cheryl looked horrible. Her normally shiny bob hung limp and dull around her face. Her skin was so pale you could count the tiny blue veins under her skin. It looked as though she had dropped 20 pounds in a day. No matter how hard Kelly and I tried, Cheryl refused to go to the hospital. She assured us that she would be fine in a few days.
And she was. About a week later, just like Jenny, Cheryl was still weak and paler than usual, but she was back in class and seemed better. Something was adding up all wrong. I knew Trent was to blame. I tracked down a few of the girls I had watched him with in the last couple of months and, sure enough, they all had had a horrible bout with "the flu" right after being with Trent.
I decided to go straight to the source. Luckily, Trent was alone the evening I finally worked up the courage to confront him. Although if he had been with someone, I think I would have dragged the little whore out the room by her hair if I had to. I was finally going to get to the bottom of this.
I didn't bother knocking. I just walked in his room, ready to face whatever might be inside. He was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor playing his guitar. His eyes were blue, he looked calm and serene. I was neither.
I let all my accusations, anger, and hurt feelings pour out on him. I blamed him for Jenny and Cheryl's illness and for doing the same thing to the other girls. I threatened to call campus security. I told him that I'd found him out and I was going to stop him. I even went so far as to call him a vampire.
Incubus, he corrected me. That gave me pause. I wasn't actually expecting an honest answer from the man who would never tell me anything about himself. I asked him what the hell an incubus is. His eyes went black. An incubus, he explained, is a creature that feeds on sexual energy. They don't have to be actively involved, they can feed off the sexual activities of others in the same room, but it is that much more fun to be an active participant. He can also pretty much seduce anyone, male or female, in a short amount of time without really trying. That had to be a handy trait when your main source of nutrition is sexual energy. The only negative side effect was the flu-like symptoms that the "food" had for about a week after their encounter. Luckily there was no permanent damage done.
Trent went on to explain that he could also touch without physically touching. A woman could close her eyes and get the fuck of her life while he watched from twenty feet away. By this time I had sunk into the red wing-back chair, then remembering what had happened in that chair, I sprang back to my feet. I felt invisible hands grasp my upper arms and pull me towards him. He set the guitar aside and the hands pulled me down into his lap. He wrapped his physical arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.
He whispered in my ear that he would not feed from me. I was more than food and he wanted me to stay in his life. He said he liked having me be a part of the feeding process and hoped that I would continue my voyeurism. Not exactly the most romantic thing a girl could ever hope to hear, but I was still enthralled. I was really just completely beside myself that he was actually touching me. I could feel his cock hardening beneath me and even after hearing that he was some kind of demon, I was really hoping he would act on it.
He didn't. He held me for a long time, slowly rocking us back and forth, whispering in my ear in a language I didn't understand or recognize. I fell asleep in his arms and had the most incredibly erotic dreams I've ever had.
Trent and I fell back into our normal routine. If you can call watching the man you're completely obsessed with have sex with other women, "normal." The best times for me were when I had him alone at lunch. He began teaching me to play his guitar. I wasn't any good at all, but he never lost his patience with me. The very best was when he had to wrap his arms around me to show me where to place my fingers on the strings. If his hands brushed my breasts a time or two in the process, who was I to complain?
I had one last art project to do to complete my mid-semester project. I knew I couldn't stand to watch him with another of my friends. Also, it made me feel a little like bringing a cow to the slaughterhouse. I was handing him his meal on a silver platter.
I arrived at his door in the early evening, when I knew he was out stalking his prey or getting a date, whatever you like to call it. His door was unlocked as he usually left it when he only stepped out for a bit. I set up my supplies, pulled his desk chair to the middle of the room and removed all of my clothes. I had positioned everything so that I could easily see myself in the mirror on his closet door.
I don't know if his seduction skills had failed that night or if he somehow knew I was waiting in his room, but he arrived empty handed. I didn't even look up when he come into the room and closed the door. I concentrated on my reflection in the mirror and the masterpiece I was creating.
I'm not vain about my looks, nor am I ashamed. I've got healthy self-esteem. However, Trent had the ability to make me feel like the ugliest duckling. It wasn't anything he said or even the way he acted around me. It was the fact that the girls he was with, while some were prettier than me and others uglier, were not me. And I wanted more than anything for it to be me.
He didn't move from the doorway. I continued to sketch with my pastels and ignore him. A good hour had passed before I was finished and he was still in the doorway when I put the final strokes on the page.
I sat still in the chair for a moment after I was done. I was trying to decide what I wanted to do. I could walk across the room and attempt to seduce this creature that was a master of seduction. He'd made it clear he didn't want that from me. He'd made it clear what my role in his bedroom activities was. And if I tried to put the moves on him and he rejected me, I'd completely fall apart at his feet.
Deciding to keep my pride intact and not make a fool of myself, I started collecting my supplies. I felt his hands slide down my back and over my hips. He was still across the room. I ignored him and pulled my jeans on. The hands moved up this time over my shoulders and along the sides of my breasts.
Back up the invisible hands came, lifting my breasts, thumbs raking over the tips. I couldn't stop the low, needy sounds that came from my throat.
My body seemed out of my control as I somehow assisted the hands in removing my jeans again. The hands moved lower, pressing through the curls and delicate skin there to push inside me. My knees buckled, but before I fell, Trent was there in the flesh to catch me.
He kissed me. It was gentle, teasing, his tongue tracing my lips before dipping inside. I realized two things in that moment: I'd never seen him kiss any other girl and his eyes were blue. Then I lost all coherent thought.
It felt like his fingers were everywhere. On my face, on my thighs, on my breasts and deep inside me. I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what wasn't. And somehow his tongue was in my mouth and against my clit at the same time.
My entire body was quaking with a never ending stream of orgasms. I was seeing planets and stars, hell, whole constellations. Then it was just Trent, the real Trent, cradling me in his arms, stroking my hair and murmuring to me in that strange language. I didn't have a clue what any of it meant, but the words were nice the way they sounded.