Spellman Ch. 10

Riley

Friday, July 19, 2013

"Is he seriously still planning on going through with it?"

Riley sighed and flopped back onto her bed before answering her roommate. "Yes, he is. They're going out to dinner tonight, and then...yeah..."

Tiffany sat down on the bed next to her. "Riley, what the fuck? Is he bringing her back to his place after? He hardly ever even lets you stay the night over there."

"I don't know what the plan is for...that part...I've been trying not to think about it."

"Why don't you just break up with him? This is bullshit."

"Everything is pretty good, most of the time. We've been together for so long, and he was there for me when Nick died. But I guess things have gotten a bit boring and routine. So maybe he's right and this will help 'spice things up' in our relationship."

"That's such a fucking line and you know it. He didn't come up with this idea as a way to spice up your relationship. He got a hot new T.A. and decided he wanted to fuck her, and then came up with a thin excuse to make it happen without having to break up with you or cheat on you. I just can't believe you're letting him get away with it."

"I'm not letting him 'get away with it.' We had a rational discussion about it and decided together that this was going to be a good thing for our relationship."

"You can't actually believe that. Riley, look at me." Riley sat up and turned to look Tiffany in the eyes. "You are a smart, funny, successful, sexy-as-fuck woman. Any guy in the whole fucking world would be lucky to have you as his girlfriend. If things are boring in your relationship, it's because Thomas is the fucking bore."

"Well..."

"Stop. I hate that he's made you into this meek little thing sitting next to me today. You're usually so confident. How are you doubting any of this? If Thomas gets to go fuck a new girl, did you two talk about you getting your own spice on the side?"

"I mean, yeah, in theory I guess, but it's not like I have any plans to..."

"Of course you don't. And Thomas knows you don't. So he can go fuck his new little plaything while you sit around at home waiting for him to let you know when he's done with her, and he doesn't have to worry about any other guy messing around with his girlfriend. Fuck that. We're gonna get you some fucking dick tonight."

"Tiffany I'm not going to do that. I'm not just some kind of slut who will fuck any random guy I met that same night."

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but I'm that kind of slut?"

"No, I'm sorry, you know that's not what I mean, it's just...Tiffany, you know I've only been with three guys ever, and every single one was a long-term relationship. I don't even know how to have a one-night stand."

"Trust me, it's not that hard. If all you want is sex, it's just about the easiest thing in the world for a hot girl to get these days. We install a dating app, find someone who looks good, and then you tell him that you want to fuck. He, being a guy, will say yes. Then he takes you back to his place and he fucks you."

"Why back to his place? What if he's a creeper or something? Can't I bring him back here?"

Tiffany smiled as she noticed that Riley was seemingly already buying into the idea, at least partially. "Well, if he's a creeper, you don't want to have sex with him anyways. That's why you meet in-person somewhere else first. Just make sure you drive yourself. But you can't bring him back here because I'm going to bring someone back here and I call dibs on sex in the apartment tonight."

"You have your own bedroom!"

"Yeah, but that's boring. I like getting fucked while I'm bent over on the couch."

"Tiffany, what the fuck, I sit on that couch!"

-----------

A few hours later, Riley and Tiffany were sitting at their dining table installing dating apps. Or rather, Tiffany was installing dating apps on Riley's phone while Riley refused to "go put on a bikini top and take a few pictures."

"Here, what about this picture?" Tiffany turned the phone to show Riley a picture from a recent day at the beach. She wasn't in a bikini, but she was wearing some shorts that showed off her legs as she leapt through the air.

"Yeah, that one's fine."

"Ok, I think we're good, we just need a bio for you."

"What, like my age and interests?"

"No, no one cares about that. You just have to signal that you fun, funny, and most important, DTF."

"DTF?"

"Down to fuck. Seriously, how old are you? Forget him screwing a girl on the side, you need to break up with Thomas for turning you in an old woman. How about this? 'I'm not looking for a relationship, I'm just looking to make some bad decisions."

"Nope. Not me."

"I'll try anything, or anyone, once."

"Definitely not."

"If you can make me laugh, you can have me anywhere you want."

"Ugh, no. I'd like him to be funny but that's not a free pass."

"Do not message me unless your dick is at least ten inches."

"Ten inches? Do they seriously even get that big?"

"Oh girl, we've got to get you some porn."

"It just doesn't seem practical. Like, wouldn't that hurt?"

Tiffany shrugged. "Probably a little bit, but I imagine it gives a lot of other interesting feelings as well. I've never had one that big before though."

"What's the biggest you've had?"

"Do you remember Charlie?" Riley nodded. He was one of the few guys she could remember Tiffany going out with more than once. "Him. I never measured him but he was probably like eight, eight and a half inches? More than plenty, he was a great fuck." Riley had to snap her fingers to get Tiffany back to earth as she started to reminisce. "Sorry. Maybe I'll text Charlie for a booty call tonight. How big is Thomas?"

"Uh...I don't know? Definitely not eight inches. Probably a little bit longer than my other two boyfriends but not quite as thick?"

"Well, don't rule out being a size queen, at least for tonight. Might be good for you to have a new experience."

"I'm not putting that on my profile."

"Fine, fine. Do you have any ideas of your own?"

Riley snatched her phone out of Tiffany's hand and bit her upper lip as she tried to think of something funny and clever.

A witch turned my family into pigs and said she would only turn them back if I broke the hearts of 100 men. I've broken 99 so far. Please, help me save me family.

She handed the phone back to Tiffany. "There. Done."

Tiffany snorted. "That's pretty dorky."

"I think it's funny!"

"Sure, but it's not sexy or alluring. It doesn't signal that you want to get fucked tonight."

"If I don't get fucked tonight then I don't get fucked. That's my bio."

"Fine." Tiffany started tapping away at the phone again.

"What are you doing now?"

"It's time to get you some matches. I'm picking some guys for you."

"Shouldn't I be the one to do that?"

"No, you don't know what you're doing. I'll handle it." Tiffany spent several minutes swiping away on the phone before handing it back to Riley. "There you go. Now we just wait for the matches to roll in. They'll send you a message, you respond to them, and if they're hot, you meet him somewhere."

It did not take long before Riley's phone began vibrating with notifications from the app. She had several messages from some decent-looking guys, but their lines were just terrible.

Dam girl u fine af

Can I do some coke of that fine ass?

Do you like being choked?

Let's just skip all the formalities and get to the part where you spread those legs

Riley unmatched all of them with a scoff, not even bothering to reply.

The next message came in with a picture. "Oh, god, gross."

Tiffany looked up from her own phone. "What?" Riley turned the phone to show her roommate. "Wow. Well, what he lacks in...stature, he certainly makes up in confidence."

Riley decided to reply to this one.

If you're going to open by sending a picture of your dick right away, it should probably at least be an impressive or attractive one.

Fuck you, bitch.

No, thank you.

Before Riley could reply again, he had unmatched. The dating app experiment was sure off to a terrible start. "Tiff, this sucks."

"Yeah it does, but it's a numbers game. You'll get a good one eventually, it's just unfortunate that you have to wade through a bunch of shit first."

"I can't see how this is worth it. I have to sift through all of these terrible guys to maybe find one that's not a complete ass, and then I have to get all dressed up to go out and meet him and hope we have any sort of connection, all for the off-chance that I maybe get some sex out of it? I don't even care that much, you're the one who thinks I need to hook up with someone."

"You do. You need to stay even, and Thomas needs to know that his opening up of your relationship has consequences. Besides, maybe the sex is great!"

"Sex is sex. I don't see the big deal."

Tiffany gave her roommate a serious look. "Riley, have you ever even actually had good sex?"

"Of course I have."

"Really?" Tiffany didn't seem convinced. "You actually get off when you have sex with Thomas?"

"Usually. Well, sometimes. I mean, not during the actual sex I guess, but sometimes he uses his hands to make sure I do after."

"Girl. He sometimes gets you off, manually. Does he ever go down on you?"

"Uh, a couple times, as like, foreplay."

"Meaning he didn't make you cum but at least did enough for him to feel like he earned sticking his dick in you."

"I wouldn't put it like that..."

"Riley, holy shit, this is now even more important than I thought. You need some good sex. Great sex. Maybe I can call Charlie for you tonight, at least I know he's a good fuck. I know he'd be up for it, he was always checking you out when he thought I wasn't looking."

"Ew, no, I'm not going to have sex with your booty call."

"Your loss. But I'm serious, you need to expand your horizons, get your world rocked, have your brains fucked out. Maybe it will help you see that there are better guys out there than fucking Thomas the T.A. fucker."

"Fine, but I need some food first if I'm going to suffer through more of these awful pickup lines and dick pics."

-----------

After a quick trip to a nearby taqueria, Riley settled onto the couch next to Tiffany and opened the dating app once more. Three more guys were immediately rejected. One had a promising opener but he immediately parlayed that into asking her for some nudes, so into the rejection bin he went. She was about to toss her phone and take another break from the app before she noticed she had another match who hadn't messaged her. He had a simple bio, nothing much to go on, but at least it wasn't gross or crude, and his photos showed that he was extremely attractive without resorting to shirtless bathroom selfies.

Ryan

New in town, just looking to meet someone. 25.

They were the same age, which would be a new thing for her. Thomas was 32. Riley could tell that Ryan was an athlete of some kind, and he had a nice style to go with his winning smile. Seriously, the guy looked like he should be on a magazine cover. She wondered why he had matched with her but not sent her a message, every other guy had opened with her first. Maybe she should try taking the initiative for once? That way she could set the tone of the conversation herself. Riley took a deep breath and typed out a message.

"Usually I go for smart guys, but I guess I could settle for a hot one."

There. Something flirty, funny, maybe put him on the back foot and have him defend himself a bit.

"What makes you think I'm not a smart guy, too?"

"Too hot to be any smart. Just wouldn't be fair if you were."

"Quite the claim from a woman as beautiful as you. Are you saying you're not any smart either?"

Oh, a good comeback. He had complimented her without being crude, and then turned the tables.

"Oh, no. I'm very smart."

"So why isn't it fair for me to be both hot and smart but it's fine for you?"

"I'm a woman. We're allowed to be unfair."

"Touché. So how do I prove that I'm more than just another hot guy?"

Riley looked over at the coffee table to see her pile of notes in preparation for the upcoming school year and smirked. "Let's play a little 'Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader, Ryan," she said to herself.

"What's 8x12?"

"Wow, are standards really that low these days?"

"Just answer the question, dummy."

"96."

"You probably used a calculator. What's the capital of South Carolina?"

"Columbia. I can do this all night."

"You probably just googled it. Who is the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court?"

"John Roberts. You know, there's a way for you to verify that I'm not cheating on these questions."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Come meet me in person."

There it was. He'd called her bluff. So now what should she do? He was hot, he'd managed to go a dozen messages without asking for sex, sending a picture of his dick, or asking for a picture of her tits, and seemed to be at least moderately intelligent and funny.

"Tiff." Her roommate looked up from her phone. "What do you think of this guy?" She leaned over to glance at Riley's phone. "Oh, hell yeah. Go fuck that guy. If you don't I'm going to."

Riley laughed. "Alright, fine. I'll go meet him at least." She sent him back one more message.

"Okay. But first, who's your favorite poet?"

Riley had been an English major and loved poetry. She had binders and binders full of her own original poems written over the years that would absolutely never see the light of day. It seemed like no one knew any poems these days, besides some nursery rhymes, Robert Frost, and maybe a bit of Shakespeare. She didn't expect him to have a good answer, or even really an answer at all, but it was worth a shot.

"Probably Hopkins. Maybe Housman."

That was a quick answer. Definitely too quick to have needed to look something up, and she doubted that those would have been the first names to come up on a Google search for "who should I tell this girl on a dating app my favorite poet is?" She was aware of both of them but couldn't immediately think of any of their work.

"Wow, okay. Wasn't expecting you to actually have an answer. Send me one."

"I have desired to go

Where springs not fail,

To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail

And a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to be

Where no storms come,

Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,

And out of the swing of the sea."

Damn, a beautiful one too. Still, she couldn't let him continue to think he was earning all of the points.

"Not very romantic, is it?"

"Hey, you didn't ask for a love poem."

He had her there.

"Fair enough. Where should I meet you?"

Time to take the plunge. He sent her the name of a bar/restaurant that was only three minutes away from her apartment, so she told him she'd be there in half an hour.

"Okay, I told him I'd meet him."

Tiffany squealed and then jumped up off the couch. "Yes! Let's go get you ready. When's the last time you shaved your cooch?"

-----------

Riley arrived early and then spent several minutes trying to calm down and steady her breathing as she sat in her car.

"It's just drinks. It doesn't have to mean anything more than that. And if it does, so what? Thomas is out doing the same thing. I'm allowed to do it too, right? Right."

She checked her teeth and hair in the mirror. Getting ready had been a bit of a rush job, but she hadn't wanted to go too overboard. She wasn't wearing a cocktail dress or come-fuck-me-heels, just a nice blouse and jeans. Casual. Cool.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her car and made her way into the restaurant.

Riley stepped up to the hostess stand and looked around. A tall man stood up from his seat at the bar and waved in her direction, perhaps a bit awkwardly. She couldn't help the smile that came to her face. His profile hadn't listed his height, but she thought she could tell from his photos that he was a pretty big guy, and she was pleased to see that confirmed in person. Riley didn't have anything against shorter guys, but Riley was a pretty tall for a woman, just over five-ten, and it was always nice to feel like you could wear heels without your date feeling emasculated. Thomas was roughly her same height, and he didn't like when Riley wore heels. In addition to being tall, he was built. He wasn't body-builder huge, but it was very obvious that he was extremely fit and athletic. His chest and arms stretched out the navy polo he wore very nicely.

Riley walked past the hostess stand and reached out to shake Ryan's hand. Before she could say anything, he pulled her hand up and kissed it. Riley felt a tingle run up her arm and down her spine.

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes"

Her heart skipped a beat and her brain felt fuzzy, so it took her a moment to recognize the poem. She smiled up at Ryan. "That one was much more romantic. Byron, right?"

"Right you are. Please, sit down." He pulled out a barstool for her to let her sit, and when he finally released her hand she was almost sad to lose that connection. "Can I get you a drink?"

"That would be great." He waved over the bartender. Ryan already had a beer in front of him, but Riley ordered herself a house margarita on the rocks.

"I'm glad you came. Somehow you're even more beautiful in person."

Riley blushed. Why did he make her feel like a little schoolgirl? She couldn't remember the last time she felt so flustered. "Why thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

"Not so bad? I'm pretty sure you said I was so hot that it wouldn't be fair if I was smart too."

"I don't think those were my exact words, but fine, I will admit, grudgingly, that you are very hot." She checked him out openly, trying to regain some of her confidence. "And fit. Are you an athlete?"

"I am, or at least I was. I played football."

That certainly made sense, he looked like a football player. Not a lineman, for sure, but definitely a football player. "In college?" He nodded. "Where at?"

"Up north."

She raised a questioning eyebrow. That was a very vague answer. "Are you not telling me which school because you're embarrassed, or because you're trying not to brag?"

"Well..."

"Come on."

"I went to Stanford."

"Fuck." She laughed at the absurdity of it. He was hot, he was smart enough to go to Stanford, and a good enough athlete to play football there. "Well, there goes my 'not smart' line. What position did you play?"

"Quarterback."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you fucking kidding me? You were the quarterback for Stanford?" Riley was not a huge football fan, professional or college, but she knew enough to know that Stanford, in addition to being a top-rate academic institution, was still a pretty good football team too. If he had played quarterback for them, then Ryan must really have been a good athlete. His bio hadn't mentioned his job, but was it possible that he was a professional football player? Was she supposed to know who he was?

He gave her a half smile. "Well, the backup quarterback."

Riley bust up laughing, releasing all the tension that had been building up. "Oh thank god. Just the backup? At least you're not completely perfect."

"Oh no, not completely. Maybe sixty, sixty-five percent perfect. My mom might say as high as seventy." The he gave her a winning smile that probably bumped him up to at least eighty-percent perfect. "But what about you? You've got to be a dancer, right?"