Discoveries of a Young Man Pt. 04

Authors note: Again I am grateful for how the chapters have been received. That being said chapter 4 is much longer than the others.

Happy reading, and thanks for reading. Rate five stars and favorite.

Feedback is appreciated. When it comes to hate comments, it takes longer to write them than it takes for me to delete them.

*

Instead of heading to the dorm, I decided to hit the weights instead. There was no way I would do anything but wait around, pace back and forth impatiently. Too much was on my mind. Mel more or less fucking my face was one of the -- scratch that -- it was the hottest thing to happen to him, ever. Even without cumming myself.

After the laziest workout I'd ever done, I headed straight home, made brief small talk with Trent, and went to bed. Even as horned up as I was, I was exhausted from Mel (and working out), so I actually managed to fall asleep pretty quickly. Both mentally and physically

The next morning I woke up abruptly as my blanket got yanked away.

"Wakey wakey, hands off snakey. It's almost noon, ya fackin' sleepyhead. You've been a shut-in for three weekends now. You're coming along after you've done boxing shit," Trent said.

For once it was not the worst of ideas, hitting the pub. It would surely speed up the wait till Monday, at least.

"Sure, whatever. No fucking club though," I said and started to get up.

Trent was already back in his room changing to his workout gear. He was no stranger to the gym either, having a football scholarship, though we rarely went together. Mostly because Trent had his own posse he hung with, and I mostly preferred to lift weights on my own.

While getting dressed, I started rubbing my jaw. I had no idea you could be sore in your jaw, but here I was. Sore as hell. My tongue was also pretty beat up. No regrets, though. It was worth the sacrifice. I would do it all again. Right now even. Though, I had a major case of blueballs from yesterday. It had almost been painful when my erection had subsided. And despite that, it was one of the best things that had happened in my life.

My outlook on life had totally changed since that day I jerked off to Mel's voice. I strived to do better, to be better. I looked forward to the future. In hindsight, it seemed like I was just floating through life before, wasting time on just... nothing really.

What excited me most about the future, was of course what was next for Mel and me. Sure, it was probably not smart to get my hopes up, but I'd say last days forceful slippery wet events were a solid argument to the contrary.

We had exchanged a few texts last night before bed. Mostly recounting how awesome it was, and that we couldn't wait until we met again on Monday. Too bad we actually had work to be done, and Monday's was usually the most work.

"Stop admiring the mirror, and go get your ass kicked or whatever the fuck you do," Trent shouted from his room.

I had been sheepishly staring into the mirror while thinking over things and stuff. I blinked. I couldn't believe such an average guy like me could experience such a woman as Mel. A dude never picked first during sports, always passed by in all competitions, numerous fourth places. Always hovering in the middle when girls rated the boys in school. Mr. Average. How did I come to arrive here? What the fuck did I do?

*

"One, two. One, one, two, three. One, two! Come on slacker, keep your left up! One, two, three! Slip, slip, roll!" Freya was shouting at me. The numbers represented what punch to throw. It's weird, I know, but what can I do?

I was being punished for skipping yesterday's boxing class. I was too tired and did some lazy lifting instead. After today's group session, Freya had hunted me down and asked me if I wanted some extra padwork after. I foolishly said yes, and here I was. Punching combinations, dodging the noodles. Noodles are these long pads that were soft, but if you didn't slip or roll away from them, they would whack you in the face. Which happened to me all the time.

"Two, one, three," Freya yelled at me. Rapid smacks echoed in the hall.

Freya was a bit shorter than me, I'd guess 5 foot 5 or 6, maybe. Jetblack hair which was almost always in a ponytail. Sharp features, and pretty ripped. She was Latino and had that fierceness that often Latino girls had. Maybe that was a bit presumptuous of me.

But in my defense, she had been boxing since she was ten. She was younger than me by two years, but I sure as hell didn't feel like her senior right now. I'd say she was not a pound over 135 pounds, being pretty vascular. I had at least 40 to 50 pounds on her, yet I think she would kick my ass any day of the week.

"One, two, slip! Block!"

Bam! I got whacked in the face. Instead of slipping, I rolled and her noodle smacked me in the temple. And it startled me enough so that when I was supposed to block, I just got caught in the ribs. An alarm gave a few beeps until Freya turned it off. We worked with 2-minute rounds of 'beating-up-Bran'.

"Somebody is slacking. Someone is a slacker!" Freya said, unnecessarily loud.

"You have a good right," she panted. She poked a finger in my ribs. It was probably to try to keep it playful, but I was exhausted and it just hurt.

"Thanks," I groaned. Not the type of groaning from yesterday with Mel. This was sheer pain. My lungs were on fire.

"It's fast. But you need to be fast with your feet and where your head is," she explained, holding up her hands, showing me some slips and rolls. She was waaay faster than me, with perfect form.

"Next private lesson, I'll get you on the heavy bag. Come on, time's up!"

"More?" I complained.

"Five two-minute rounds, baby!"

And that was my afternoon. First, an hour of group boxing, which was nothing compared to the torture Freya put me through, just light padwork. Both punching and holding the mits. Then, twenty minutes of getting broken down into pieces by Freya's own little torture session designed just for a 'slacker' such as myself.

When I got back to the car, I figured I'd call Trent and tell him to head out without me. There was no way I'd be able to go out in this state of exhaustion.

"Yeah, I don't really give a shit. I'll fackin' drag you out and force feed you beer if I have to. Sleep in a chair, just get the fack outta that fackin' room, ya hear!" Trent yelled through the phone. I reluctantly agreed. Even if it was under the threat of violence, it was nice being dragged out of the house once in a while, especially with such ferocity.

I looked at the clock. It was about three. As reasonable as any other time to head out.

"Fine. I'll meet you guys at, erh, what the fuck is the name of that place?"

I luckily had packed a decent shirt on, light blue, and some good jeans to match, and my brown leather jacket was in the car. So I figured it could work.

Soon enough I arrived Your Mom's House. That was the name of the local brown bar. The name itself tended to draw newcomers. I preferred it because it was not a club. You could actually have a conversation at this place.

I pulled into the parking lot in front of the bar. I didn't think I would drink much more than a beer or two, so it would probably be fine. I didn't really live long of a drive from the bar. And it was supposed to rain today, so there you go. The best umbrella is a sub-urban.

"Oyh, Bran. Over here! How you doin'?" Trent exclaimed as I just got ID'ed by the guy in the bar.

The bar was spacious enough so people didn't have to sit on top of each other and respect each other's privacy. You would have to have some really long elbows to accidentally knock into the guy in the booth behind you on your way out.

The sofas were classic red-brownish leather, spaced around tables in different booths of different sizes. Trent and his friends had claimed a booth that sat like a horseshoe. Lots of room to slouch around in.

I scanned which of his friends were there. Benny, another jock on the baseball team, and Trevor and Jaret, twins who were... doing... some sport. I couldn't quite remember. Last time I saw them, they were throwing up their kebabs behind a dumpster. I wasn't entirely sober myself, so that night was a bit blurry.

I slumped down next to Benny, with my back towards the door.

"Wazup," Benny said as I sat down. We exchanged bro hugs, which I found odd. We weren't that close, so to speak.

Trent's friends, jock douchebags as they were, had always remained pretty accepting of newcomers. Maybe because Trent was the main jock, and he loved new people. And he had some weird appreciation for me, I had found. I have to admit it was mutual. Trent was a typical douchebag, but he was also a guy one could rely on in a clam.

"When did you guys get here?"

And so a wet night of beer and comradery began. We talked about college, college football, baseball. Basketball. All that stuff, that I didn't really know anything about. I had played a bit of high school football, but I mostly did what I was told, and never showed any real talent or interest for it. They got pretty impressed when I told them I had started to box, and some off and on climbing the last week or so.

And speaking of the devil, at some point during the night, Freya and Frank popped by to say hello. I got up and greeted them both. We exchanged some small talk and they moved back to their booths. Turns out, they were siblings! It was nice to see them both out of the gym, even Freya.

It was pretty much inevitable. Soon enough, or it was actually several hours later, we found ourselves in a conversation about girls. Or more specifically, the guys wanted to go to a club and get laid, then they discussed some of their prior 'adventures'. I pretty much zoned out of all that.

I had no intention of going to some club. But I was getting a slight buzz, having had more than those two beers I was supposed to. Beers tasted good for once. Like all the hard work in the gym earlier made me earn it. Maybe I'd linger around and have another beer. Or sober up so I could drive home. Either or worked, I was in no hurry, and I was starting to feel real good. Perhaps I could hang with Freya and Frank.

"Even Bran has been getting some," Trent all of a sudden said, snapping me back to reality.

Benny turned to look at me, so did the twins, slightly surprised at the news.

"Really?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, turning ever so slightly pink.

"Oh dawg, I know that look. When you got home yesterday. And then immediately went to your room to text," Trent teased. "Don't worry about it, I'm just teasing. You should get it, it's college after all."

"Though we have been prowling the seas pretty heavy, am I right??" Jaret quipped, fist-bumping Trent.

"You been banging that hot girl who was here earlier? What was her name?" Benny asked, snapping his fingers.

"Freya! Fuck she was hot. Fucking hell, love Latino girls," Trent exclaimed, tilting his head back. I just nodded agreeingly, not having anything to add. It was not something I was aaall too keen on discussing. Sex was still an awkward topic to me, especially around these hounds. Instead, I let them banter away.

*

It was almost 6 PM. I just got back from the bar with a fresh beer, and the Trent gang was once again back at the topic of getting laid. Going to the club. Trent's friends didn't seem to be the biggest fan of the boring old brown bar. They seemed to tolerate it and were engaged in the conversations. But apparently, it was laid-o'clock.

"You sure you wanna stay?" Trent said as he got up, pulling his jacket on.

"Yeah, I gotta finish my beer. Don't wait up," I said, slightly slurring my speech.

Trent and the gang shrugged, said their goodbyes, and headed out.

I got out of my booth, looked around a bit, and saw that Freya and Frank had left. Nothing was more pathetic than drinking a beer in a booth by yourself, so after a quick piss, I went up to the bar. I was kinda drunk at this point, so I decided I would play the mysterious guy drinking his beer in the bar, reading the newspaper. Hopefully, they had newspapers.

"Pretty pathetic," I told the bartender. He was a burly man, bearded and flannel-wearing. He looked over at me slightly confused.

"What?" he asked, leaning at the bar and looking at me quizzically.

"Sitting in a horseshoe alone. Got today's newspaper and some coffee?"

The bartender shook his head and handed me the newspaper and went to get me a coffee. I downed the rest of my beer, determined to get sober to get home. I was on the verge of getting pathetic over here.

It took some effort, but after my third cup, I started to feel better again. I looked at my phone. It was now quarter to seven. Was that enough time?

I got up, ready to leave. As I turned I heard someone gasp and yell my name.

"Bran!"

I turned around.

"Mel?"

I looked over at a booth further back in the bar and saw, low and behold, Mel sitting there. I was surprised. I was stunned. What were the odds? It was so unusual to see her dressed in anything but her usual baggy clothes.

Instead, she was dressed in a maroon velvet party dress. It showed a decent amount of skin. Not too much, just enough to tease while remaining classy. The dress wasn't made to make her hot. But to make her look beautiful. And she did look beautiful. It felt like my eyes were gonna pop out. She also had put on a light touch of make-up, and red lipstick to match her dress. Mel looked absolutely stunning. Mel really looked like a beautiful woman.

She was leaning slightly forward, with her arms resting on the table. Almost hiding her body. She didn't seem too comfortable, though, like this wasn't something she was all too familiar wearing. But her outfit certainly did its work on me!

Next to her sat a woman, who I'd say probably was around Mel's age. Dark hair, dark eyes. She also wore a party dress, a black one, though hers showed a bit more leg and cleavage. She was good-looking in her own right.

As I approached, trying to not stumble, Mel's friend was giving me a pretty mischievous smile, which slightly made me feel uneasy. Like there was something she knew, that I didn't.

"Is this him?" the dark-haired woman asked, giving Mel a sideways glance.

"Oh fuck," I screamed inside my head, but trying to remain cool as I sat down opposite to the two ladies. What had been said???

"Yeah, that's him, alright," Mel answered, turning a sheen of red. I went pretty pink myself. Luckily it was in the back of the bar, so they were pretty secluded.

The other woman smirked at that. I also couldn't help but notice that both ladies were ever so tipsy. She reached her hand across the table.

"Alicia," she said. I took her hand. "But you can call me Allie."

"Bran."

"Big hands, even at your height. Warm hands," Alicia teased, still smirking. Her smirk was putting me off. Her comments too, for that matter.

I chose to ignore it and turned to Mel.

"Nice dress Mel, it really suits you," I tried. Mel exchanged a knowing smile with Allie. A smile that said 'told you so'.

"What you ladies drinking?" I asked, desperate to alleviate the tension.

It looked like they had been drinking red wine from the two empty glasses in front of them.

"Oh, I got it. I'll just use the restroom first and then I'll be right back with our drinks," Alicia said and got up.

"So. What's up? Didn't expect you here," I said.

"Nothing much... David is out playing his goddamn poker. Hope is at a friend's house. At a sleepover. Aaand my youngest, Maia, is at my parent's place for the weekend,'' Mel told, seeming more comfortable now that we were alone.

"So I decided that I deserved a night out. Sooo, here I am. Me and Allie, drinking our red wine, gossiping," Mel said, holding her hands out slightly.

"Who's your friend? Alicia?" I asked.

"She's, as you said, a friend of mine. We've known each other for, what, since high school, I guess. Longer than I'd like to admit," Mel explained.

"We usually just call her Allie. She's my confidant, and I'm hers. We tell each other everything," Mel said. She saw my fearful look and added, "Sooo she knows."

"But you're skimping on the details, lady! I wanna hear!" Allie said, abruptly dumping next to Mel, handing me a beer and glasses of red wine for them.

"So have you been today? More boxing?" Mel said quickly, changing the subject.

Allie sat back on the sofa, feigning disappointment, but regaining it as she looked over at me with a half-open mouth, in a mock shocked impression.

"Didn't tell me he was a boxer!" Allie said, smirking shrewdly She was a hard read. Was she mocking me or teasing me?

"Erh, I'm not. I do a bit of pad work. I think you guys could both kick my ass," I joked.

"That doesn't sound like a bad plan!" Allie joked. Mel immediately covered her mouth, to keep from laughing out too loud. I laughed too.

"Yeah, if you ladies wanna settle this, we can take it out in the parking lot!" I mockingly threatened, slapping my chest with my fist. The two ladies laughed even more.

After breaking the initial awkwardness we sat talking for a while, making jokes, actually getting to know each other more. I gave her the cliff notes of my incredibly dry and boring degree. I tried to make it sound interesting but had to admit to them how boring it actually was. They laughed at that. I felt pretty good making them laugh.

Mel warmly talked of her children, Hope and Maia. Both of them seemed to encourage her a lot, and she worked hard for them so they could have a brighter future. They seemed like good kids. Though her eldest wasn't much younger than me. Her other one, Maia, was in her second year at high school. I learned Mel had worked as a hairdresser with her mom when she was younger, then went to physical therapy. It was actually turned into a quite pleasant evening, learning about her family, talking about mundane things, chit-chatting. We laughed and joked, talked, and had a great time.

I also couldn't help but stare at her. I followed her lips every time she took a sip, when she talked, laughed, or even sat still listening to what me or Allie had to say. I tried not to. But my eyes kept traveling. Her slender frame. I looked at her arms. They seemed firm and strong. Her dress draped her whole body so nicely. I just wished I was able to see her long legs too, but alas, there was a table in the way.

Eventually, Mel started spilling it all. Maybe the alcohol made her less inhibited. I also figured she might need the venting, and I was a good ear to vent through.

David took the brunt of it, which I couldn't help but feel great about. Though, it made me sad to think that Mel had lived with such a man for twenty years.

David had got her pregnant and she had to quit her studies. He was quite mentally abusive, from what I could gather. He always talked his wife down, making her feel less and less of a person over the years, only to go out and bang hookers and gamble. It quite frankly pissed me off. He would go out every weekend, leaving her with the kids. Even from when the kids were young. Almost everyday he would say something demeaning, and several times a week David got drunk and scolded the shit out of Mel. Controlling what she wore and what she did. She had shielded the kids, but they certainly knew by now, which made her feel even worse.

It got quiet at our table for a few moments. It wasn't a pleasant topic, but Mel seemed in the need of telling it. Then Allie spoke up.

"So, Bran. Let's lighten the mood a bit. Let's talk about something, someone, we both find highly interesting. Tell me, why are you so interested in my dear Mel, besides her obvious assets?" Allie asked, leaning slightly forward, allowing some more of her cleavage to be shown.

"I'm curious myself," Mel chimed, putting her hand under her chin, looking at me quizzically.