Senior Year

It was spring semester of my senior year, and things were pretty much on cruise control. I had been dating my girlfriend Kelly for almost a year now and things were going great for us, although we hadn't settled yet on our plans for after graduation. We were both leaning toward separate grad schools within an hour of each other, though, so that wasn't a stresser on our relationship.

My housemates loved Kelly. Classes were going great (having cleared all the highest hurdles before now). I had even made a new friend, at this late date, in my Tuesday evening night class. Matt was also a senior, who had transferred here last year; in fact, he had a Monday night class with Kelly, so the three of us fell into a habit of going out for beers on Monday or Tuesday evenings.

It was on one such evening in an off-campus pizza parlor that Matt got inside my head. It was after the Tuesday night class that Matt and I shared; but Kelly had joined us. She sat beside me in the booth in the dimly-lit restaurant, eating pizza, sipping beer, laughing as we made jokes about our professors. After a while, though, she excused herself, because she had an early class the following morning.

She kissed me on the cheek, and then left; and we both watched her walk away, her blonde hair gently bobbing, and the hip pockets of her jeans rising and falling oh-so-perfectly with each step. I heard myself sigh.

"Your girlfriend is something else," Matt said. I agreed, enthusiastically.

"No, I mean it," he continued. "She's really probably the prettiest girl on the whole campus."

I felt my heart swell. Yeah, I think so; but it's always rewarding to hear someone else say so.

"So, you know," he said, "I'll bet you can't believe how lucky you are."

That kind of dropped me in my tracks. He picked up his mug and took a long, slow sip, never breaking eye contact with me. Yeah, he was right; but it was kind of weird hearing someone say it out loud.

"You kind of remind me of my friend Nate," he continued.

Huh. I cleared my throat, and asked him to tell me about his friend Nate.

He smiled and settled back in the booth. "Yeah, well, Nate was like you in a lot of ways. Smart as a whip. Good guy. He was dating a gorgeous girl, too. In fact, her name was Kellie, too, but Kellie with an ie."

I sat back on my side of the booth, intrigued but unsettled. I listened as he told me his story. About how Nate was really, really interested in hearing how much Matt appreciated how pretty Kellie was. Weird. How Nate volunteered that he had pictures of Kellie, naked.

This was before the internet, before digital cameras. I was surprised, stunned, inexplicably aroused. Nate must have had a polaroid camera. I didn't have one, and I couldn't imagine my Kelly letting me take pictures of her if I had had one. But I found the story mesmerizing.

He told me how Nate had almost eagerly offered him the chance to look at these pictures. So weird. This wasn't like me at all. Was it? How he had at first declined. But then, a week later, had gone over to Nate's apartment and taken him up on his offer.

I started feeling squeamish. I looked across the table at my friend, seeing him for the first time as a rival for my girlfriend's attention. Damn. He was an attractive enough guy. Bigger than me; not so much taller, but certainly with broader shoulders, a stronger chest. I looked at his hands on the table between us. I suddenly had an image of thumb-wrestling with him. With him quickly, easily pinning my thumb down beneath his, chortling as he did so.

I think we both realized at the same moment that I had been silent for a very long time.

"So, that's how I got started fucking my friends' girlfriends."

I could feel my eyes getting wider. "Started?" I thought. "GirlFRIENDS, plural?"

He grinned at me. "Oh, yeah. It's become something of a hobby. An obsession, really." He paused.

"You want me to fuck Kelly, don't you," he stated. It wasn't a question.

My mouth went dry. But I shook my head. "No."

"No?" he smiled. "I don't believe you."

"I mean, yeah, this whole conversation has been really ... hot," I stammered. "But, seriously, that's just not my thing."

He leaned back in the booth and smiled. "Except it's going to be all you can think about tonight. And tomorrow."

I gulped and realized he was right. I was already picturing my precious girlfriend, on her back, looking up at Matt with her blue eyes wide and her lips parted. Her white peasant blouse and her bra pushed up under her chin, while one of his strong hands cupped one soft, B-cup breast, rolling her pale pink nipple between his fingers. While his other hand reached down and released the button on her faded jeans ...

"Look, if you don't want me to fuck Kelly," he said, never breaking eye contact, "Just tell her that I'm an asshole. Tell her we had this conversation. Look her in the eye and tell her that your friend told you he wants to fuck your girlfriend."

I looked at him and swallowed, hard. I realized that I was not going to be telling Kelly about this conversation. I think he realized it, too.

"I've got class with her on Monday night. I'm going to ask her to go have a beer with me afterwards. If she blows me off, I'll have a pretty good idea why.

"But if she doesn't blow me off ... well, I won't know for sure whether you just never told her, and she just wants my cock ... or whether you did tell her, and that's *why* she wants my cock.

"Either way ... when we get together again next Tuesday, you'll be sitting across the table from the guy who just fucked your girl.

"Or tell me, right now, 'No, Matt, don't. Stop. I don't want you to fuck my pretty blonde girlfriend."

I swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes. He looked back. Until I blinked. He smiled. I never said, "No, Matt. Drop it." Or, "You asshole."

"All right then," he said, getting up from the table. "See you next Tuesday."

****

Well, he was right about one thing. For the next two days, it was all I could think about. It was strange how this idea had become my obsession, too.

Remember, this was a long time ago. I had never heard the word "cuckold" before. And I had never fantasized about the image of my precious girlfriend wrapping her legs around another man. Until now. And now I couldn't get the image out of my head.

It was also unsettling to be compared to this guy, Nate. According to Matt's story, Nate had practically invited Matt to seduce his girlfriend. There was also a homoerotic element to Nate's desires (homoerotic was another word I didn't know yet), and that was something I just didn't get at all. There was something humiliating about being compared to Nate. But somehow that aroused me, too.

Of course, another difference here was that I just couldn't imagine my girlfriend going for it. Nate's girlfriend must have been a slut to begin with. I thought back over Matt's story. How much of it had depended on the way Matt slowly seduced Kellie at a party, right in front of Nate? On her realization that Nate was ... if not willing, at least, submissively acquiescing?

I realized that I was looking forward to next Monday with dread and anticipation. And so, when my roommates started talking about having some friends over on Friday night -- not a big blow-out party, just some friends over for beers after dinner -- I called Matt and invited him, too.

And that's how I ended up sitting on the sofa beside my pretty blonde girlfriend, watching her chatting with Matt, seated diagonally across the coffee table from her. Watching, intently, and with an increasing lump in my chest.

We all got started on a simple conversation about movies. At first all three of us were involved. Tom Cruise. Kevin Bacon. Meryl Streep. Michelle Pfeiffer. Michael Keaton. Every name that came up, he had a movie to suggest that Kelly and I had not seen, and she wanted to know more.

I watched Matt lean forward, his hand holding a beer bottle on his knee. Slowly, subtly, almost imperceptibly, moving his hand up and down on it as if he was stroking his cock. I looked at my girlfriend, trying to follow her eyes, to see if she was seeing what I was seeing. She didn't seem to be watching his hand. She was looking into his eyes.

Then I watched as she suddenly -- almost certainly involuntarily -- raised her left hand to her temple, and, with her palm facing Matt, pulled her hair back behind her ear. Showing him her wrist. Showing him her neck, and the top of her collarbone. I saw him smile just before he took a swig from the bottle. And glanced at me, knowingly.

The party wound down, and Matt got up, thanking me and my roommates for the invitation. I rose to walk to the door with him, and Kelly followed me. He grasped my hand in a hearty handshake, saying thanks one more time. Then he reached out and took Kelly's hand in his, just her fingers, and ever so subtly moved his thumb back and forth over her fingers. "Hey, I guess I'll see you on Monday," he said.

After he left, Kelly leaned into me, and whispered, "You want to come over?"

Yes, yes I really did. I wanted to go over to her house and strip her naked and pound her into her bed, claiming her as mine. But something strange was going on in my head. "Yeah, I do," I told her. "But you know, I'm getting up really early tomorrow."

That much was true. I was going to go to up to State tomorrow morning, to watch my younger brother, who was a back-up outfielder, play baseball. And then I was going to spend the rest of the weekend with him.

"Yeah, I know," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Okay, have fun. So ... you want to get together Monday night after my class?"

Yes, yes, yes, I told myself. Lock down that invitation. Matt had already told me that he meant to ask Kelly out for a drink after class on Monday night. Give her a reason to say no, I told myself.

Instead, I sighed. "I've got so much work to do before Tuesday," I replied. "And I know I won't get any of it done this weekend. I'll call you when I get home. But I'll see you on Tuesday, okay?"

She smiled. "Okay. Love you." Then she kissed me again, this time on the lips. Then I was watching her walk away, her perfect ass moving exquisitely in her jeans ...

***

I did have a lot of work to get done before Tuesday. But I couldn't concentrate. All day long on Monday, and all evening, all I could think about was this crazy thing I was doing ... stepping back, giving my new friend room to seduce my girlfriend, giving her room to receive his advances...

Her class ended at nine. A few minutes later, I walked up the street and positioned myself in the darkness near the garage that faced the alley behind the house where she had an upstairs apartment. I sat on the cool ground, watching, thinking. I could barely see the back porch where, nine months ago, we had bonded sitting on the steps and drinking Lambrusco.

It was around 10:30 when I saw the headlights of a car, parking on the street in front of her house. My heart went into my throat, as I watched her walk up the driveway, followed by a man -- Matt -- toward the door on the side of the house that led to the stairway to her apartment. I watched her work her key into the lock on the door, while Matt gently placed his hand on the small of her back ... right between those two magnificent dimples that I loved so much ... and then they both disappeared through the doorway.

Several minutes passed before the light came on in the dormer window of Kelly's bedroom which faced the back of the house. My mind was racing as I considered what was happening in the meantime. I knew they were in the common space. Getting a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator? Or, was Kelly's roommate there, chatting with them, looking askance at Kelly as she took a man who wasn't me into her bedroom?

A moment after the light came on, the room quickly became dimmer. I pictured Kelly turning off the overhead light and placing a scarf over a bedside lamp, creating a soft, lowly-lit environment, the way she had just before the first time we had made love...

I felt my heart pounding. Matt was up there, in my girlfriend's bedroom, with the lights turned low ...

I couldn't believe it was happening. I had spent almost a week fantasizing about my girl yielding to my new friend, letting him penetrate her, take her, have her. But it just didn't feel like her. I drove myself wild trying to imagine their conversation earlier. Had it been a simple matter of seduction; of her succumbing to his charm, his confidence, his relentless compliments? Enhanced, perhaps, by the fact that I had removed myself from the equation?

Or had he persuaded her by convincing her, truthfully, that this is actually something that I wanted? Because, damn it, I did. I wanted it so much ...

All I could do to calm myself was to realize that, up there in Kelly's dimly-lit bedroom, Matt was taking my girlfriend for the one and only first time. Down here in the shadows, seated beside a trash dumpster, I could imagine it happening over and over again, in a dozen different ways, a dozen different positions.

She always wore bras with a clasp in the front. I pictured his skilled hands dismissing that clasp in a second, cupping her pert breasts, drawing one into his mouth ...

I pictured her hand going to the back of his head; stroking his short hair, so different from my longish curls ...

I imagined him sitting on the edge of her bed, while she slipped down between his thighs, unbuckling his belt, pulling his jeans down his strong thighs, releasing his cock. Thicker than mine, covered in powerful veins. Leaning down and placing her tongue just above his pendulous balls, drawing it slowly up his sensitive underside, then engulfing him in her sweet, soft wet mouth. Her pretty blonde head, bobbing up and down a few times, while he sighed his approval. As if it was his due. When she came off of him after a few strokes, his erection popped up and bopped her on the bottom of her cute, upturned nose. They both laughed, like lovers.

He drew her up so she was standing in front of him, and unbuttoned her jeans. She wriggled seductively as he pulled them down over her thighs, and she raised each foot obligingly so he could discard them. Then he placed his face over her yellow panties and inhaled deeply, lightly licking her through the fabric, while she sighed in pleasure.

Then he slipped his fingers inside the waistband and drew them down, over her rounded hips and thighs. Her bush was exactly the same color as her beautiful hair; and her arousal had moistened it into an adorable curl above her throbbing clitoris. He leaned forward, and his tongue brushed that curl aside as he dove into her slippery sex.

And then what happened? I sat in the darkness, my imagination running wild. I resolutely refused to touch myself, afraid that my certain orgasm would deprive me of this incredible arousal.

Would he scoot back on the bed and encourage her to mount him? Would he pull her onto the bed and roll over on top of her, hooking his arms behind her knees and pinning them under her chin, folding her up like a deck chair? Would he roll her over, and position himself to enter her from behind, after first reaching forward to gather first one wrist and then the other, crossing her hands behind her back and holding them there in one hand, while his other hand guided his cock up and down over her dripping slit, before plunging in?

It suddenly occurred to me to wonder, realistically, at what point she would tell him to put on a condom. And immediately, I hoped desperately that she wouldn't. I wanted Matt to enter my girlfriend's priceless pussy bareback. I wanted Kelly to feel him fill her up, stretch her out, skin on skin. I wanted Kelly to cum, cum on that cock; cum as soon as he penetrated her; cum again as he slowly dragged himself in and out over her g-spot; cum yet again as he quickened the pace and their bodies slapped together, loud enough for her roommate to hear. And mostly I wanted Matt to cum, powerfully, profusely, with his cock planted up under my girlfriend's heart.

****

It was Tuesday night, and I was back in the pizza place, sitting in a booth across from my friend Matt. Seven days to the hour since the most disturbing week of my life had begun.

I had had lunch with my girlfriend Kelly earlier today, but I was so distracted I couldn't really remember much of it. And I couldn't tell whether she was distracted, too, or whether I was just projecting. I knew she had invited Matt over last night after their night class. I had watched from the alley. What I didn't know was just how far they had gone once they had gone inside and the lights had come on, turned down low, in her bedroom window.

So now I was sitting across from Matt, still wondering the same thing.

"So," I asked, somewhat timidly. "Did you get together with Kelly last night?"

"Yes," Matt replied. "I told you I was going to."

"So ... how did it go?"

"Well," Matt, said, sipping his beer, "Maybe you should ask her for details." Huh, I thought.

"She's kind of shy when it comes to talking about sex," he continued. Well, he had that right; and that gave me a sense of dread about how their conversation had gone. "But, she's better at doing than talking."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He had that right, too. And that pretty much told me everything I needed to know. But suddenly I was more intrigued with their conversation at the bar than I was with what had happened in the bedroom. What had he said to her?

"Hey, buddy, I told you last week I was going to fuck your girlfriend last night. And you didn't object. You just sat there. Like you are now. You wanted it to happen, and you know it."

I sat in silence. Then Matt changed the dynamic a bit.

"But I would like to find out if Kelly would like to have a relationship like I had with Nate and his girlfriend," Matt stated, watching me carefully as he took another sip of beer.

"Ummm," was all I could say, as I felt a knot developing in my stomach and my heart rising into my throat.

"Look, I know you adore Kelly. Worship the ground she walks on. She knows that, too. She appreciates it.

"But, you know, sometimes a woman doesn't want to be worshipped. She just wants to be taken, by a Real Man. Or, you know, some women want both."

I just stared at him.

"Me?" he continued. "I want her because she's the hottest girl on campus. So pretty. And such a gorgeous body. Especially that ass.

"Well, that, and the fact that she's your girlfriend." I hadn't seen that one coming. I gulped hard, and choked a little bit.

"Look, every relationship is different," Matt explained. "I know you're not Nate. I can respect that. And anyway, it's all going to be up to Kelly.

"I'm not looking to steal your girlfriend. I like it that she's your girlfriend. I just want to fuck her for the rest of the semester. And ... well, I want you to know about it." He paused and tossed some popcorn into his mouth.

"In ... nine weeks, I'll be going back to New York. And you and Kelly can go back to your happily-ever-after, if you want. But in the meantime ..."

"In the meantime, what?" I finally managed.

"In the meantime, well, whatever Kelly wants. But I've got an idea that I want to try, and I hope she'll want, and I'm pretty sure you'll want, too.

"I want her to keep being your girlfriend, but ... not to have sex with you any more. You can still take her out to dinner, take her to movies, whatever. But her pussy belongs to me."

He stared me down. "Sound hot to you?" I gulped, but I had to admit ... yeah, it did.

"Of course," he continued, "It's going to be obvious to some people. Why don't you invite me over to dinner this weekend?"

I was suddenly overwhelmed by the image of my roommates looking at me, shocked and quizzical, as Matt got up from the dinner table and led Kelly into my bedroom. The hip pockets of her jeans moving provocatively, our last vision of her as the door closed. God, that would be so humiliating. I realized that I couldn't wait for it to happen.