Peyton Ch. 02: Uncaged

I shied away from that sort of attention. One reason being, I didn't see Josh as an abuser. I saw him as an asshole who knew how to get inside my head and make me want to let him have his way with me. Essentially, I was manipulated, not abused. Branding me a hero minimized the trauma that the actual girl who was abused went through.

But there was more to it than even that.

I was confused over my own feelings. How could I be some sort of martyr for sexual assault when I was still dreaming of the "what ifs". Even now, a year later, I'd occasionally wake up with my hand stuffed inside of my panties because I was getting fucked by unknown cocks inside of my head. How can a victim be turned on by her own abuse?

I saw Josh on campus a few times after everything in his world blew up. I'm sure he blamed me for what happened to him, even though I wasn't the one who reported it. All I did was give an account of what happened to me. It wasn't my fault that they viewed what he did as assault. I didn't see it as such, but I can't control what others see. Plus, I didn't like him enough to defend him, especially after the way he treated me after he was done fucking me.

We connected eyes a few times, him glaring at me before cutting away. It was much different than the way he looked at me in his bedroom. There was so much confidence in his eyes then. Arrogance that the world was his, and his bad behavior was above reproach. His status was firmly set as hunter; I was prey. Just as he felt it should be.

Now, there was just anger and defeat. He was no longer top of the food chain. His alpha status had been revoked. Now, he was nothing more than scum beneath our feet, not even worthy of the time of day.

Oh well.

I finished out last year with solid grades. I made lots of new friends. Overall, it was a successful freshman year.

But there was that yearning within my body that would not go away. I met up with a few guys during that time. I didn't sleep with any of them, though. None of them brought me to that level of supercharged lust that Josh did. Despite being human garbage, Josh did something to me. Maybe it was the X that made that night so memorable, or maybe my young mind romanticized his charisma. I don't know. All I knew was the end result of my encounter with him. There was now a cage door inside of me that had been unlatched, and the beast that was being held captive escaped. Now that she was free, there was no food for her to carnage.

During the summer break, I went home. Being back in the same breathing space as my mother brought back all those feelings I grew up with. Feelings of resentment. Feelings of not being pretty enough, yet being too pretty. Feelings of unresolved confusion over who I was and what healthy sexuality was supposed to be.

Thankfully, my brain took a break during this time from dreaming of Josh. I was too busy dealing with the hell of being born from the womb of Satan's narcissistic mistress. My mother criticized everything about me. My hair coloring was stupid. My clothes were slutty. I gained too much weight (I didn't. I was the exact same weight I was when I left home).

Everything about me was wrong. As usual.

After three months of that shit, I was glad to be back on campus. The physical distance between me and Gloria was a godsend, and I couldn't travel it fast enough.

Feeling the freedom once again, I found that my libido had returned with a vengeance. I still hadn't had actual sex with anyone since that party, but my pussy was aching for attention. I wanted cock. I wanted to feel a man's length inside of my body. I wanted to be desired, appreciated, and lusted after. I wanted to be pursued.

I wanted...to be taken.

However, I didn't want an all-out asshole like Josh. While it worked in the safety of my fantasy, getting treated like a living sex toy wasn't my aim. I wanted the man who stuck his penis inside of me to actually like women.

Sam was almost the first lucky recipient of my hot pussy. He was cute, kind of quiet. Not really assertive, but strong willed in terms of what he thought of to be right and wrong. A nice guy all around.

I was drawn to him because of his eyes. He had kind eyes. Trustworthy eyes. That and his soft-spoken voice made him seem so pleasant.

But it's those nice guys that will fool you.

He was a part of a group paper I had to write in English. There were 5 of us; three girls and two guys. And wouldn't you know it? Both guys were vying for my attention.

During our assignment, they both often tried to impress me. At the same time, they were trying to leave me unimpressed with the other guy. They tried sounding smarter than each other. They tried sounding "woker" than each other. They even belittled the other when the two of us were alone. It was kind of funny, kind of cute, but really flattering.

Yes, I loved the attention. What can I say? I'm a girl.

Eventually, when it became obvious that I had to make a decision, I devoted my flirtatious attention on Sam. After we turned our English paper in, Sam and I continued to hang out. For a week we just casually orbited each other. We ate together in the café. We bumped into each other and just walked around, talking. He even met me outside a few of my classes to catch up with me.

That next Friday, he and I went on our first official date to a movie. Then, we parked somewhere to "talk".

I found out a couple things that night. One: Mini Coopers are more spacious than they look from the outside. Two: even the nicest guy's restraint is no match for D cups in a tight sweater.

Honestly, I was all set to sleep with Sam. I was not opposed to giving him the hottest piece of ass he'd ever had. I even wasn't opposed to the sex being vigorous, or borderline rough. I was, however, opposed to being raped in the cramped backseat of his shitty Mini Cooper because I let him suck on my nipples.

Don't worry. The only action his dick got that night was from my knee.

The next day, he blew my phone up with pointless apologies. He "explained" how he was just under a lot of pressure lately, how hot I made him, and how he's really not like that. He's a nice guy after all. After dodging him for a few days, I had to let Sam know that I thought we should just be friends. And by friends, I meant he should lose my fucking number.

He took it harshly, as he should've, but I'm grateful that he didn't turn it into a "thing". He knew he was wrong.

I met Jake a few weeks later in another one of my classes (Worldwide Politics). I actually knew him already; I just noticed him "in that way".

If there were ever a future politician, Jake was it. He was outspoken to the point of being arrogant. He was always the smartest person in the room and spoke with such authority that you automatically believed anything that came from his mouth.

As far as looks, he was classically handsome, but not hot. He had a nice smile and an adorable face. His body type wasn't athletic, but he wasn't some fat slub either.

I liked Jake. He really like me. I found out that he'd liked me since the first day of class. We hit it off, went out on a few dates, and got to know each other. Of course, I was better at vetting him after the whole Sam debacle, so I didn't let him see my tits on the first date.

I waited until the second.

I found out something about Jake, something that shaped my future conquests. On the outside, his public persona was that of the confident, knowledgeable leader who always had everything together. However, on the inside, he was an insecure little boy who needed constant validation.

Not only that, but he sucked in bed.

That's not fair. He wasn't terrible. He was just too...vanilla. My time with him taught me that I just couldn't get wet for vanilla. I wanted to be fucked. He wanted to have tender sex.

Needless to say, our first time was disappointing. He didn't last long, and I felt no chemistry while he was inside of me. Technically, yes, he did everything right. He continually asked for consent before progressing to the next intimate level. He ate me out. He treated me like a person and not a sex object. He genuinely tried to make it a gentle and pleasant experience.

But...ya know...

Still, I liked him. I later realized that I didn't actually like him; I felt that I should've liked him because he was so great on paper. I wasn't honest with myself, so I couldn't be honest with him.

However, we dated for 6 months.

Like I said, Jake was vanilla. We only had sex in one of our rooms, and only when our roommates were gone. So, you can count on one hand how many times his cock had actually felt my pussy.

Our final time having sex was just as anticlimactic as the others. We'd just finished our mid-terms and wanted to let loose. A couple friends of his had started a band and were going to be playing, so we decided to go there.

Like most clubs in a college town, age verification was that thing that most bouncers pretended to do. We got in with no problem, got drinks with no problem, and got drunk with no problem. And yes, I was only 20.

Anyways, we took our drunk asses back to his room because his roommate was supposed to be staying the night out.

Before now, I'd never seen Jake's roommate, as I'd only been to his room when roomie was elsewhere. However, I felt like I already knew him. With the way Jake talked about him, I pictured an overweight neckbeard with weed breath and stained clothes.

That night, Jake and I had our perfunctory sex. A little oral, some missionary, a bit of doggy, then he'd cum inside of the condom and call it a night. I didn't cum, of course. Afterwards, while Jake fell into a satisfied, drunken, sex-coma, I laid awake looking at the ceiling and listening to him snore.

I was getting ready to get up and get dressed when the door suddenly opened. Light from the hallway spilled into the darkened room, and his roommate came stumbling in. He was drunk and didn't seem bothered that he was disturbing the quiet peace that we were laying in. I don't think he even realized Jake had a girl in his bed.

He wasn't a neckbeard. Yes, he was an obvious stoner, but he was hot. Tall. Slender without being scrawny. Great hair. The perfect shadow of a beard.

I was still naked beneath Jake's blanket when he came in. I watched him flop down on his bed sitting sideways and leaned his back against the wall. Only then did he see me peeking up from behind my sleeping "date".

He had to do a double take to ensure that he was indeed seeing a naked girl in his room. To help him out, I waved at him and said, "Hey."

He chuckled and gave me a head nod. "Hey." His eyes darted to Jake before a smirk appeared on his face as he then asked, "How'd the fuck did corny ass Jake bag a hottie like you?"

With a shrug, I honestly answered, "He got lucky."

"Yeah, he did." He said, giving me an appreciative smirk as he took me in. Only my naked shoulders were visible above the blanket, but his eyes drank my near nudity. After scoping me out, he said, "By the way, I'm Rick."

"Peyton."

"Peyton." He repeated, as if committing my name to memory. "Well, if you want my advice Peyton, you deserve better than tighty whitey over there."

I giggled. "Why do you call him tighty whitey?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

I looked down at my sleeping lover, and I had to admit. It was obvious. Jake was a nice guy, but he did have a stick up his ass.

That made me laugh aloud.

Rick sat up from the wall and reached towards the desk by his bed. He opened the drawer and pulled out a small metal tin. When he opened it, he removed a blunt and what looked to be a dime bag of weed.

I watched intently as he leaned back against the wall and used his stomach as a table of sorts to prepare his treasure for smoking. The blunt was split open, the tobacco was removed into the tin case, and the weed replaced it. He then put it up to his lips and licked the edges before rolling it tightly.

Once he was done, he looked up at me again. With a smile on his face, he asked, "You wanna hit?"

I looked down at Jake, then back at him before nodding. However, I added, "But not here."

"Where you wanna go?"

It didn't matter. Anywhere but in here. True, I could've very well smoked in the room with Jake, but something was compelling me to leave with Rick.

"I know a place." I lied as I pulled the comforter back not caring that I was naked. Subconsciously, maybe that was the point. Maybe I wanted him to see me in all my glory.

I quietly dressed before Rick's eyes, careful not to wake Jake who'd surprisingly stayed asleep this entire time. Not once did he rouse awake. I was laying on his chest as I spoke to Rick. Even the bed moving beneath us as I got out of it didn't disturb his slumber.

Rick, on the other hand, was wide awake. He devoured the sight of my body, lingering his gaze at my plump tits. He watched me put on my panties, my skirt, my bra, my shirt, with invested interest. He wasn't a gentleman who turned his head to give the lady some privacy. He unashamedly accepted the voyeuristic gift I gave him.

Once I was dressed, the two of us slipped from the room with barely a sound.

Thirty minutes later, I was bent over and leaning on the wall outside of my own dorm with a second cock buried inside of my pussy not even two hours after the first

The next day, I gave Jake the same "let's be friends" speech Sam got. He took it much worse than Sam did. He wanted to know why, blew my phone up with texts and missed calls, and stalked me for a couple weeks in hopes of catching me and convincing me of how good we were.

I should've told him why I was ditching him, but the truth seemed crueler than just saying I wasn't feeling it. Plus, I was a coward. I'll admit it. But it wasn't like we were in love and destined for marriage.

Still, the truth has a way of coming out. Rick and I secretly started hooking up; for obvious reasons. But it's almost impossible to keep the fact that your roommate is now banging your hot ex-girlfriend a secret.

I felt bad for Jake. Honestly, he didn't deserve that. I was a shitty bitch for that. But the sex! Oh my god!

Truthfully, it wasn't that Rick was a sex god. He didn't have a huge cock. He didn't eat me out until I was thrashing about in orgasm. As far as technique went, he wasn't that much different than the average guy.

But he was a risk taker. Rick was Jake's opposite when it came to sex. He wanted to fuck me anywhere but the bedroom. The riskier, the better. And that made me so...fucking...wet.

If Josh was the one to release the beast inside of me, Rick was the one who fed it. Little did I know, though, that Rick was just the appetizer.

The full meal was yet to come.