Blind Lust

Something strange happened to me recently. I know I should be pissed about it, yet I can't help but feel I brought it on myself by my actions and outlook. After I tell the whole story, I'll let you decide.

My name is Scott. I'm in my 30s, good-looking, single, and happy to stay that way. When I was younger I was a totally different person. Nice, cheerful, a little quiet. Got married way too young, stayed married way too long. Finally kicked her to the curb. She was cheating on me with a buddy of mine. That whole thing changed me. I became much less trusting. Swore to myself I'd never get hitched again. I pretty much kept to this, but not long after that whole shit storm, I hooked up with this young chick, assuming it was a booty call. But she kept coming around. I wasn't going to say no to some no-strings fucking, so I let her hang out. Before I knew what was happening, she'd pretty much moved in with me.

That was a nightmare. She started trying to run my life. Redecorated my apartment, tagged along wherever I went, and the sex turned to shit. She even tried to tell me how to dress. I kind of got used to having her around, but the longer it went on, the more ridiculous it seemed. I wasn't looking for a new wife, and here she was acting like one. I got bitter towards her. Everything she did rubbed me the wrong way. We fought all the time. Finally I just kicked her out, ended whatever it was, and went back to being single.

That was about a year ago. Since then, life's been pretty good. I've got my friends, and when I get lonely, I just go to a bar and pick up the first hot woman I see. I've perfected my techniques over time, and I can get whatever girl I want. I've had to prove this to my buddies since they never believe me. Especially my girl buddies.

Yeah, that's actually the most important part. I have this group of girl buddies I sometimes hang with. It happened in a weird way. I started off being friends with this woman named Kate. Met her in college. We used to party together. Tried unsuccessfully several times to hook up with her back then and finally gave up. I've kept in touch with her since then, through the marriage and the "extended houseguest". (Which is how I think of the ex-girlfriend.)

Once I became a bachelor again, we started hanging out more. That's when I got to meet all her friends. Kate is my age, but the rest are much younger, around their early to mid-twenties. I'll get into them later on, but in all there's a group of five chicks I hang with now and then. I never tried anything with any of them. Well, except for one, but she doesn't count. See, Betty was this girl I dated a few times. It didn't go anywhere, so we stopped that, but she met Kate during that time and they hit it off. So now I've got to see my kinda ex on a regular basis, which sucks. But whatever. Neither of us hold any hard feelings, I guess. We've fallen into an uneasy frenemy state where we rag on each other for everything. (You can tell you spend too much time with younger chicks when you start using words like "frenemy".)

Anyway, enough background. When all this went down, Kate had invited me over on a Saturday night. This was a semi-regular thing. We had pizza, way too much booze, watched movies and sat around shooting the shit, listening to music. That sort of thing. I had nothing to do that night, so I chilled with them for the whole evening. It was a typical weekend night at Kate's house. People would drop by, hang out, wander off or pass out. People hooked up and left, or went to one of the guest bedrooms to get busy. One of the girls I didn't know had brought her guy, I think her husband, and they were fighting a lot. After a while he left. He was her ride, so that was amusing. I mostly sat on the couch watching things unfold, sporadically texting this chick I was trying to get with from work, hitting the bottle hard, and joking around with people. Sometimes Kate would sit with me, sometimes Betty. For most of the night, Shayla (she's one of the circle of five) was sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, staring off into space or playing with her phone. Shayla kinda gives me the creeps. She's super-hot—I'd totally bang that—but she's so quiet. Creepy quiet. I've only heard her say, like, six words the whole time I've known her. So between that and her enormous too-big brown eyes that seem to stare right into you, I tried to keep my distance. She was sitting almost touching my leg that night, which was weird, but I didn't move because from that angle I could see right down her shirt. Oh yeah. I had the prime real estate location that night, even with the headache that Betty kept bringing me. She was riding me hard that night, and I don't mean in any fun way. (Never went there with her, but I strongly considered it during the brief time we were together.) I still don't know what her problem was.

The rest of them were business as usual. Kate was wandering around like a hummingbird on crack, chatting everyone up, bringing around snacks and drinks. Basically playing her hostess role to the fullest. The two members of the circle that I haven't talked about yet were acting normal too. Sally was way too drunk because she'd invited her new boyfriend and they were having a huge fight. About what, I didn't know and didn't care to ask. She was alternating between crying and laughing so hard she'd hyperventilate. I swear that girl's such a spazz. She reminds me of one of those little dogs those celebrity whores carry around with them. The other one, Ellie, was getting hit on constantly and trying to hide from everyone. She was always going back and forth between shy and sex kitten. Her face was beet red most of the night. Since her divorce a few months before, she'd been with several guys, just playing the field. I'd thought about becoming one of those guys, but she was Kate's best friend, so I decided it'd be bad drama. Not worth it. Still, she was interesting. I was enjoying watching her scramble around trying to decide if she wanted to hook up with someone or spend time with her friends. Hell, I knew the choice I'd make, but some people don't have it so easy.

It was a nice night. At first. I don't remember how much I drank, but it was enough to put my head in a fog. I can't blame what happened later on alcohol, of course. I never drink so much I can't remember what I did the next day, but sometimes the things I say get blurry. I know at one point I hit on Ellie just to see her blush. I got bored with my texting, because with some people having a conversation is like pulling teeth. So I stopped responding and let my phone buzz at me from my pocket until she gave up. (Funny how when you stop making an effort, some girls will go nuts chasing you.) I only left the couch to piss, get more to drink, and once to chat up a girl I'd never seen before. I lost interest in her pretty fast, so I blew her off and went back to my spot, shoving Sally out of the way. She'd passed out long ways, taking up the whole couch. Which was weird, since she's so short and skinny. You'd think she couldn't take up any space at all, but the couch was a jumble of bony limbs. When I shoved her, she scrambled to the other side of the couch, whining at me incoherently. Betty saw me do this, and this made her start in on me all over again. I stopped listening almost right away . . . something to do with me being an ass and only caring about myself and blah blah, Sally's having a bad night, whatever. When does she have a good night? She gave up when she realized I wasn't paying attention. Kate came by for a bit to yell at me for hitting on Miranda, whoever that was. Probably the boring new girl from earlier. I drank more and watched, amused, while the guests acted more and more crazy as the night went on. Shayla came and went from her spot at my feet, but I barely noticed since the girl's so damned quiet. As long as she wasn't staring me down with those scary-big eyes, I could tolerate her.

The night went on and on. Sally puked, Kate cleaned it up. Ellie made out with some guy, then refused to go out to his car with him. He got pissed and Kate had to drag him to the door. I would've helped, but it was funnier to see her do it. At one point she had to slam his head against the wall. Made me laugh way too hard. Sally drank more, almost puked again, but got distracted when she started crying about her boyfriend. (Not sure where he went? Maybe he was the one Ellie made out with. No idea, but that would have been hilarious.) Ellie made out with someone else, but this guy left on his own. Then she started crying about something. I couldn't make out what it was, something about a slut or being a slut. I think. That was the only word I could make out. I hugged her and patted her back until she calmed down. See? I can be a nice guy. Well, not really. I mainly did it to feel those huge tits of hers against my chest. Not that the motivation matters. It calmed her and made Betty a little nicer to me when she saw it. So what if I got something out of it too?

By about two in the morning, things were settling down. All five of my buddies were in the room with me. (Along with a couple of guys who were passed out in the corner.) Most of the guests had gone. One was sleeping on the kitchen table, and who knows how many had holed up in the guest rooms.

The six of us were talking, nothing serious. I would throw in my comments now and then, but by then I was pretty out of it. It was too much trouble to keep my head up, so I kept laying it against the back of the couch. Sally was on my right, kind of hanging on me. Betty was on my left, glaring at me. (I assume.) Shayla was still at my feet, knees drawn up to her chest. Ellie was lying on the floor, long legs stretched out, hand on her forehead, leering at the ceiling, mumbling. Kate was lounging on her easy chair, one long, jean-clad leg hanging over the arm. She looked like a cat, surveying us all with only mild interest. Relaxed, but always ready to strike. In my drunken, slightly horny state, seeing her like that made me wonder why I'd given up on her so easy. I'd always thought she was hot—in a non-glamorous sort of way. She was tall and slim, with narrow, dark, mysterious eyes. Short black hair, rarely wore makeup. Thin lips. Big tits. Not huge like Ellie's, but still. That night she looked happy. Usually she wore a pissed-off look like she wanted to bite your nose off. Hell, that was one of the things that drew me to her originally. I like a girl with passion.

"What?" she asked, the pissed look crashing back down on her. She'd noticed me checking her out.

I scrambled to cover. "Nothin'. You still got puke on your shirt, is all." She looked and rushed off to change her shirt, cursing.

"Why do you have to be such an asshole?" Betty asked, her eyes shooting daggers at me.

"How was that being an asshole?" I grumbled, glaring right back at her. "If anything, I was a better friend to her than you for pointing out she was sitting in Sally's puke." Sally whimpered from my side, holding her head.

"I'm not just talking about that. I'm talking about all the time," she spat, her face vicious.

I looked her over, wondering (not for the first time) what I'd seen in her. She was a major contrast to Kate. Where Kate was tall and lean, Betty was short and curvy. Not that that was a bad thing . . . her curves were great. I'd felt her up a bit while we were dating, but it never got to the point of fucking. I wanted to, sure, but it never happened. And after we called it quits, I did my best to avoid looking at her. Which, of course, didn't always work when she was wearing something that showed off her cleavage or bending over in my line of sight so I had no choice but to look at her round ass. It was all I could do to stop from groping it sometimes.

"And stop looking at me like that, you creep," she added, which made me realize I'd spent too long checking her out too. Oops.

"How am I looking at you?" I asked, looking away quickly, my tone grouchy.

"Like you want to rip my clothes off," she answered, scowling.

I was about to tell her not to flatter herself, but didn't get the chance. "He looks at all of us like that. It's a Scott thing," Kate said mildly, walking back into the room. She'd changed from her puke-stained tee shirt into a flimsy tank top. No bra either—I could see her nipples poking out the fabric. Nice. "See? He's giving me that same look right now." She smirked and sat back down.

"What look?" I asked, making a show of being hurt. "I'm a gentleman. You girls are my buddies. Why else would I spend my whole Saturday night with you all?"

"Because you want to screw us!" Sally screeched , high-pitched and directly into my ear.

I flinched and shoved her away. "Christ, Sally. Settle down. Damn."

She flung herself back onto me, pushing me backwards into Betty, who couldn't get away fast enough to avoid being crushed beneath us. "Stop pushing meeeee!" Sally howled, flailing her hands at me. She spilled my full beer, which had been sitting between my legs and got a couple of weak slaps in before I was able to jump up and get away from her.

"Shit," I complained, wiping at the wet spot on my crotch and smoothing down my shirt. "Crazy cunt. I don't want to screw any of you. If I did it would've happened by now."

That got a reaction from all of them. Kate and Betty laughed. (They weren't nice laughs.) Sally giggled. Ellie raised an eyebrow, and Shayla looked over at me, face blank of any expression. "You're so full of yourself," Kate said, still wearing that maddening smirk of hers. That smirk always made me want to either punch her or bend her over and fuck the daylights out of her, depending on my mood. It was having both effects on me that night.

"You didn't get anywhere with me," Betty pointed out, smugly.

"I didn't try very hard." I reminded her. "If I had, I woulda bagged you." I leaned against the wall casually, trying to ignore my soaked pants and boxers.

Betty snorted at this. "Bagged her," Kate said. "You're such an ass. This is just like your crap about taking home the first lady you see in any bar."

"Hey, it's true. Hell, I could take Ellie here into one of your bedrooms right now if I wanted." Sally giggled more at this. Ellie's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly, but those were the only indications that she'd heard me. My eyes crawled over her as she lay there. She was tall—about two inches taller than Kate, and really . . . voluptuous, I guess you'd say. Wide hips, great legs, long red hair, killer tits . . . and a face a model would pay a fortune for. I looked away quickly, feeling Kate's eyes on me. It wouldn't do to be caught checking anyone else out. My eyes landed on Sally, who'd gone from giggling to cackling. She was kind of hot too, but in a completely different way. Night and day. She was a blond—in hair color and spirit. Short, too skinny, small boobs, but still sexy in a way I couldn't pinpoint. I looked away, adding, "I could have any of you. But, really, if I had a choice? None of you."

"You're so arrogant," Betty said, fiercely.

"Confident," I corrected her, sparing her a quick glance. The anger in her eyes, the firm set of her firm lips, she was one of those women who get hotter when mad. At that point I was starting to wonder if Sally had been right. Maybe I did just hang around hoping to fuck these girls. If that was true, this was the first time I'd realized it. Most of the time I was indifferent to them. They were an afterthought to me. A passing amusement.

"No, it's arrogance," Kate insisted, leaning back in her chair and taking up her lazy cat stance again. "There's a difference. You do want to fuck us, but you don't seem to like us much. So why hang out with us if you're just going to treat us like shit?" I opened my mouth to argue, but there were too many things to argue with in that statement. Before I could figure out where to start, Kate continued, contradicting my unspoken protest. "Yes you do. You make rude comments, ignore our boundaries, talk behind our backs. And you push Sally around like she's a rag doll."

Betty chimed in with, "Don't forget that pretend hug thing he does as an excuse to feel us up." Kate nodded and Ellie made a surprised choking sound. She propped herself up on her elbows and turned her wide-eyed, unfocused gaze at me.

"God damn it, Betty," I mumbled, looking down at the floor.

"Exactly like that," Kate continued, fixing me in her cat-like stare. There was something cold and dangerous about that look. It made me nervous, but turned me on at the same time. You always hear about girls being attracted to jerks, but I guess it can go the other way, too. I'd never thought I was into bitches, but damned if I wasn't thinking orgy right then. I was semi hard for some reason and that made me squirm. "And that look on your face. I can't ever figure you out, Scott. You talk one way and act the other. You come over here just to be mean to everyone. And I keep inviting you. I guess I want to think there's more to you than you let on. I mean, you were different in college."

"Marriage. She messed me up. You know that."

Betty fielded this one, almost like she was waiting for it. "Don't you ever get tired of using that excuse? You can't hide behind it forever. Someday you're going to have to grow a pair and take responsibility for yourself."

I rolled my eyes, letting her cheap shot at my manhood slide. She said things like that a lot. "You've all got me completely figured out, don't you?"

Kate said, "Yeah, pretty much. The nearest I can figure is that you're a control freak. You have to control everything and everyone. You keep people in their place with your words and actions. You always have to have the upper hand, the last word. You think you're a strong, tough man, but you're actually a scared, lonely kid who has to be a dick to everyone so that he feels like he can handle his own life."

I couldn't think of any response to this. I admit I was a little hurt to find out what my oldest friend really thought of me. Even if she was way off base. I looked from one friend to another, and no one was defending me. Sally had stopped giggling, Ellie had sat up. Shayla was staring at me, still expressionless.

"In fact," Kate continued, "I'll bet if you had to give up all control, you'd lose your mind. You wouldn't know who you were anymore. You'd be reduced to tears and begging."

"Never happen," I scoffed. "Control freak or not, my life is all about me. I'd never get into a situation like that." I looked back at Shayla, but she was messing with her phone again. Creepy-ass girl. I made a mental note to confront her one of these days. Find out what was going on in her head. I looked over at Kate in time to see her whispering something in Ellie's ear. I disregarded this and went to the kitchen to get some paper towels to try and swab some of the spill from my pants. When I came back, everyone was whispering. Ellie to Shayla and Betty to Sally at least. "What the fuck are you all whispering about?" I demanded, irritated. Ellie was blushing even more than usual and Sally was giggling uncontrollably again.

"Nothing," Kate said, but her tone and smirk told otherwise. "Girl stuff."

I shook my head. "I'm going home. This party is getting old." I felt something and spun to see Betty had pulled my keys from my pocket. "Dammit, give those back," I said, lunging at her. She jumped back and tossed them to Kate, who caught them deftly.

"You've been drinking. You're staying here," she said, crossing her arms.

"Fine, whatever. I'll go to bed then." I stalked out of the room and went to the bathroom. Afterwards I peeled my soaked pants off, tossing them in the bathtub. My shorts were still wet, but they were bearable. I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering why they'd all been such bitches to me. It wasn't like them. Well, it was like Betty. She'd always been critical and judgmental, even while we were dating. But the rest of them were usually mild. I also wondered why the confrontation had gotten me so hot. It had to be that Sally was right and I wanted to bone them all. The mixture of alcohol, boredom, and seeing them all getting emotional had made me think about it more consciously. Had to be that. It couldn't be some weird fetish thing I didn't know I had, right?