Alistaire Ch. 03: Beth

One of my favorite sub-genres on Literotica is what I call the "Shy Nerd Harem", in which a young virgin utterly improbably discovers his inner sex-beast prowess, and that prowess is in turn discovered by a series and/or group of his fellow students. This is my first shot at the trope.

Please remember (as is the case with all my stories), if you are looking for 'Realism', just move on. As always, I aim for 'Ridiculously Plausible'. All sexually active characters are eighteen, or older, at the time of the action.

The stories are spread out over various categories, but I submitted them all at once, in hopes that that will make it easier to keep track of for the reader. Fair warning, if you try to start this tale in the middle, I make no serious effort to explain prior events. You would likely prefer starting at the beginning. Please enjoy.

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THE ONE WITH BETH

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I got home late enough Friday night that it was actually Saturday morning. Late enough to actually irritate my parents, who usually never cared about when I got in. But that night, I had been on a date. That made it new, and that meant that they were paying attention. My dad actually demanded to smell my breath as a joke. But joke or not, he did actually smell it. Fortunately, the beers were hours in the past, and even more fortunately, I had cleaned my face, washing away the smell of pussy. So much pussy...

In retrospect, it would have almost been worth the inevitable freakout to have seen the look on his face if he had smelled Mary and Maddie on me...

Mom was also worried about my being out late, but she was really only worked up in the first place over the fact that I had been out with a girl. I shrugged it off, telling her we just went to Red Lobster, then went back to her house and played Blind Man's Bluff, a collectible card game she knew I liked and was about hidden identities, with Mary's family. That was all sort of true... Mom relaxed when she heard the word 'games', something that finally made sense to her when it came to me, and immediately reverted to doting mom who is just glad her virgin son is dating... finally. I suspect that she was secretly extra relived that I was dating girls, but she would never have let on about that!

Saturday was spent packing, and saying goodbye, and having dinner at the club, where Dad discretely swapped his tall rum and Coke with my plain Coke at the table as a going away present. Dad is cool.

*

Monday, my connecting flight was delayed almost four hours, and it was nearly seven in the evening when I finally got into my single-occupant dorm room. I put all my crap away before I did anything else. As a Senior, I had no study hall. For those of us Seniors who had all already gotten into our college of choice, there was also little to no studying, even once the term got going again...

Instead of going to visit any of my friends, I just chilled out in my room. I blandly texted the D&D group that I was finally back, bitching about the airline. That way, I included Bridget in the know that I was back, without actually going out of my way to go see either her or my dudes. I got a simple {thumbs up} emoji from Bridget.

As for the guys, I got no return texts. But I knew what was coming. About three minutes after I made myself known, my dorm room door banged open and in piled Adam, Tres, and Ben, all having assembled before coming to see me. Ben almost slammed the door behind him and the three of them tried to loom over me. I may not be a muscular guy, but even sitting on the bed, it is hard to loom that much over someone as tall as me...

"Hey guys, good to see you," I said casually. "What's up?"

"Details," Ben said sternly. "Give."

"What are you talking about?" I continued blandly, enjoying myself at least ten percent as much as I did on either of my dates, which is saying quite a lot.

Tres tried to be cool and leaned against my closet door. "Dude. You went on a date over Spring Break. This is CNN-level news. Report!"

"Fuck that," Ben retorted, perching on the edge of my desk like a hawk. "You claim to have gotten laid. Dee. Tails."

"Actually, I went on two dates," I said calmly, but practically jumping out of my skin inside.

"Two?" they all exclaimed. "I suppose you got laid on the second one, too," Adam scoffed.

I leaned back against the wall, put my hands behind my head, and crossed my ankles. "My slugging percentage after the second date remains 4.000," I said, affecting banal superiority. Actually, if you understand baseball statistical math, when you included Maddie, my slugging percentage had gone up to an impossible 6.000, but I had firmly decided that the Maddie Factor was something not to be discussed at school... unless and until I really had something to gain besides random incredulity. It would be good to have a reserve.

My boys all oohed at this revelation. I waited. I have intelligent friends, if almost as geeky as me.

"Hey!" Adam said, suddenly. "You said this Carrie chick left for Vail the day after your first date. What happened? She come home early to worship your dick?" he asked sarcastically.

"Second date was with a girl named Mary," I said, still painting the world bland. "Actually, I'm not really being completely accurate," I added.

"Thought so!" declared Tres, triumphantly.

"Mary and I actually drove down to the beach together, early in the week. Nothing happened other than putting suntan lotion on each other, but I guess you could call that a date, too. But we went out for real on Friday. I looked at them each in turn. "That's when we had sex."

They stood there silent for a gratifyingly long time. Then they all three, virtually in unison gave the full-throated cry of the Dude: "Bullshit!"

I silently removed my phone from my pocket, opened it, and pressed send on the text message I had already had primed. It was nothing but a selfie Mary and I had taken on the beach. I had chosen the one with the best view of that bathing suit, complete with its ample cleavage, tasty sideboob, and even a touch of underboob. I dropped the phone like a mike and just chuckled as I watched them lunge for their dinging phones.

They gave that picture a very long look. Then they looked at my smug-ass expression. Then they looked at the picture some more.

"Gentlemen," Tres intoned in a deep, British-sounding voice, paraphrasing that centurion fromI, Claudius, which we had watched in Roman History. "The man has undergone a Meta-More-Phosis. He has become... a GOD."

The questions came at me fast and furious. I answered those I wanted to, giving the guys enough details to have them dying, but playing the gentleman card liberally to withhold plenty of details that kept them thoroughly frustrated and probably imagining even greater heights of success than I had actually achieved. No, not that. Imagining anything beyond what I had been through would be impossible. I had scaled the Everest of teenaged dating.

At last, their questions were all meeting with sealed lips.

"So, what? You are just going to spend the rest of tonight sitting here like a cat who got a truckload of canaries all night?" Ben said in frustration.

"No," I replied, letting some evil into my voice. "I am about to go down to the Tuck Shop and get a burger and shake, since I missed dinner. While there, I better not hear anything about my vacation from anyone outside this room... if, that is, any of you hope to ever hear one more word from me about any of it someday."

In their disgust at my tightlippedness, they refused to go down with me to eat. That was okay. In my current state, my ego and I filled my booth all by ourselves. I had been there half an hour before I realized that I had said, "hello" to every person who came through the snack bar. This had never been my M.O. in the past, but I was feeling like I had nothing to be shy about. A few of the girls even smiled back at me when I said hello. I was little surprised that almost all of them seemed to know who the hell I was in the first place—barely.

As I was polishing off my fries, my phone dinged.

BRIDGET: Have your boys finally left you alone?

ME: Yes. Are you going to start now?

BRIDGET: Nah. I'll leave you alone... tonight

BRIDGET: I hear tomorrow's practice will be hard, but short. All three of us are going to corner you after. Expect to be late for dinner

Well, wasn't that going to be just peachy.

Still, Bridget, Beth, and Carla were my buds, just like my D&D boys. They deserved the same treatment I gave the guys, and I would mine the same enjoyment from it. Like with the guys, I'd give them exactly as much detail as I needed to get the most entertaining reactions, and no more. I was dimly aware that giving them the same level of detail I had told the guys might be a little more awkward, considering that they were sort of the other team, but...

The thing was, I still had questions about what had happened to me. If I eventually decided to ask them, I thought those members of the opposite team would be more likely to give useful answers than my mangy dudes could. If I decided to ask those questions.

Probably not.

*

Monday's first track practice was indeed hard, especially for distance runners like me and Bridget, but it was nowhere near as short as promised. The ten-minute 'pep talk' from our captains at the end about the upcoming season was just a cherry on top of the marathon afternoon. As we all broke up for the long walk back to the dorms from way up on the hill where the track was, I found Bridget, Carla, and Beth surrounding me as I walked. They steered our way off to the longer route back, herding me like a sheep away from our teammates. Or like a lamb to the slaughter, perhaps.

Since I planned to treat them just like the guys, I let them drag things out just the same way. They even followed the same basic script for the most part... to begin with.

Then things got weird and difficult.

"Now wait just a damned minute," Carla demanded. "Do these two girls know each other at all?"

"They have been pretty much best friends for years," I replied, not really considering my answer.

All three of them stopped dead in their tracks. Bridget reached out and spun me around by my shoulder. "You went out with a girl, and hit that on your first date with her. Moreover, it was on your first date ever. And her best fucking friend comes on to you less than forty-eight hours later? What did this Carrie say about you?"

"The trip to the beach was not a date," I said awkwardly. "Mary wasn't coming on to me. It was me who asked her out for the date, and that was not until on the ride home."

All three of them laughed out loud at that. I narrowed my eyes at their sudden hilarity.

Carla spoke first. "Alistair..." Fuck that new name! "She drove for almost an hour with you, alone, to the beach, where she wore this bathing suit," my light brown-haired friend continued relentlessly, waving her phone with that picture on it, "where she had you rub lotion on her back, right?"

I wanted to get back in control of this situation. "Back and backside, yes," I said defiantly.

Carla's eyes bugged out. "She had you rub lotion on her ass?" she virtually screamed.

Beth patted me on the shoulder. "Let us let you in on a girl secret, Alistair," she said condescendingly and with much glee. "That girl had already decided that she wanted to bone you, not just simply go out with you, before she even called you that morning you went to the beach."

"What?" I exclaimed. All three of them just nodded at me.

"Which brings us back to my question," Bridget ground out through her irritatedly gritted smile. "What did this Carrie girl tell her best god-damned friend about you that had that friend set out immediately to jump your bones?"

"I don't know!" I shouted back. We had stumbled near one of those subjects I had thought I might ask some questions of my own about.

"Well, think!"

The three of them just stood there, in the middle of the long, deserted path back to the campus, and stared me down.

I thought furiously. "Okay, there were two things that everybody kept mentioning like they were huge deals," I said, still thinking. I briefly realized I had almost said, "all three of them kept mentioning." That would have been a fuck up.

"And those things were?" my chief interrogator, Bridget, prompted sweetly.

"Okay, first you need to understand: I apparently grew up in some weird place where few guys seem to like eating pu... um, uh, cunnilingus," I said earnestly.

They all looked at me. "And you do," Bridget said calmly.

"Of course," I snorted. "What's not to love? It's fun, and the real cool part is the way they looked while I..." I trailed off, aware I just might be over-sharing on the details. They were my friends but, even in my mind, they were girls... sort of. But I couldn't help myself. "It's fucking awesome. Doesn't everybody know that?"

"So, you have gone downtown twice now, and you are this enthusiastic?" Beth asked.

"Three times," I replied automatically. If I was going to sheepishly admit that I needed additional information, I at least wanted to make sure I got the best advice I could garner.

"Oh ho! Who got it twice?" Beth asked.

"Let's not get bogged down in that level of detail," Bridget said, dismissively, tossing her red curly hair. That saved me from having to think yet again about how to evade talking about Maddie. That was where I had to be careful here, I thought to myself.

Bridget looked at Beth and Carla, as if summing up the explanation. "So he is some kind of lingual savant," she said, ignoring my presence. "I think that explains things." The others nodded.

"Oh by the way," said Carla as we started walking the rest of the way back to school. "You said there were two things. What was the other?"

"I dunno," I said waving my hand in dismissal. "Apparently dicks come in different sizes or something."

Our progress stopped again. Even more abruptly.

"Alistaire, dear," Beth asked sweetly. "What size does yours come in?"

"I dunno. I never thought I ought to measure it," I replied in confusion. "It comes up to about here on me," I said indicating where my cock reached on my abdomen when it was interested.

"And how big around is it?" Beth went on, just a sweetly.

I made a gesture with my fingers, shrugging.

They looked at each other.

"Oh, fuck this," exclaimed Carla. "This is bullshit. Drop your pants, I have to see this thing."

I was confused at being called out on this, of all details. My hands automatically strayed toward my waist band, but I stopped and explained, "It's not, um, interested right now! It's the same size as most everybody else I've seen in the shower when it's like this."

"Stop reaching for your pants," Bridget shouted desperately. "We are not going to all stand here and worship your cock!"

"Worship? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm just trying to..." I said uncertainly.

"Look," Bridget said, holding up her hands like she was describing a smallish rainbow trout that she had caught. "You say your penis is about this long, right?"

"A little more, yeah," I said, examining the gap.

"I definitely call bullshit," Carla said. "Look, next time you think about this Carrie or Mary, pull out a ruler, hold it next to this mighty scepter of yours, and send us a picture."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "I'm not sending dick-pics to you guys."

"Damn, and he was being so co-operative..." Carla muttered.

"I still don't see what..." I began, before Bridget cut me off.

"How the actual fuck can you be so smart and yet so dumb? Al, you have at least two qualities that girls find both rare and highly desirable. Word about that gets around." She turned to my other friends. "Which is why we are going to keep our mouths shut about this," she said meaningfully.

"I don't know," Beth giggled. "Alistaire might want us to talk him up. A few choice words in the right ears, and he'll be plowing his way through the Senior class!"

"That sounds good to me," I chirped. They all three hit me—hard enough to hurt in one case. I think it was Carla.

"Al... Alistaire," Bridget said. Great, now she was doing it. "You are our friend. We know there are girls out there for you. Obviously there are girls out there for you. But you have already figured out how to ask a girl out all on your own. Do that here, if some girl interests you. Don't rely on your Yelp reviews."

*

Tuesdays, I had a double period for AP Chemistry, meaning it was lab day. Beth and I had first become friends back during Introductory Chemistry, right after she had transferred to our school at the start of junior year. Alphabetically (Talbott and Taylor), we had been assigned as lab partners that year and we found that we worked well together. When Spring rolled around, after she joined the Track team as a sprinter, she had sort of eased into being the third member of my group of tomboy, girl-jock friends. Students could choose their lab partners in AP Chem, and Beth and I had never thought to do anything other than what we already knew worked.

"All right, you gremlins," said our teacher Dr. French, beginning class. "Here is the only part of the year where I worry about killing one or more of you, so please pay more than your usual token attention, okay?"

Zak Mason's hand immediately shot up, and he spoke before being called on. "Excuse me Dr. French, but speaking of mortal danger, what about the Thermite Incident?"

The Thermite Incident had occurred back in October. Dr. French had... never mind. It's not important, even though the year book staff had already announced that that day would have its own page in our annual.

"Less yakking, more listening, Mr. Mason," Dr. French growled. "None of you lot were in danger of dying during that experiment, just me and the ceiling."

"And the furniture and the floor..." I could not help but mutter. I'm not usually one to clown around in class, and Dr. French gave my a somewhat surprised glare.

"We are going to spend the next few weeks on identifying unknown substances. You did this before in Introductory Chem, but this year the substances are more difficult to identify. And I cannot emphasize this enough, you louts: Many of the unknowns this time around are toxic, to one degree of another . That means, do not taste your unknowns! Are you, in particular, paying attention to me, Mr. Woolworth?"

Beth and I went to our assigned lab table with our mystery unknown substance. As we sat down to plan our process, she sat next to me, instead of across from me like she always had in the past.

"What's up with sitting over here?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, I'm just tired of Stan Woolworth staring at my ass like he has been all year."

"What a perv."

"Exactly."

Beth does have a nice ass. In fact, back when she had first transferred in, before we had really become friends, I had done my own share of visually mapping its contours from my quiet anonymity.

"Want me to sit on the other side?" I asked, staring intently at the white substance we were to identify.

"Nah, side by side is cool."

"Stan is just going to stare at your boobs now, you know," I smirked to her slyly.

"Alistaire Taylor!" Beth whispered, mild scandalized and majorly surprised.

I blushed a little. That higher base-level confidence I'd found over Spring Break was a two-edged sword. I really still needed to work on my filters before I got myself in trouble by flirting with my friends.

"So you think my tits are worth staring at?" she teased, batting her eyelashes extravagantly.

In trouble like this...

Screw it. Beth had broken up with her boyfriend back home at Christmas, then gotten nowhere fast all winter with Howie Thom. She could use a compliment, even if it was just from me. "They are fine... just not a good as your ass," I replied, still keeping my eyes on our unknown.