The Epiphany of Bryan Whiting

~ Brothers In Arms ~

Friday night arrived and Bryan was playing with the pep band at another boring basketball game. After half time, he went out into the concourse area to get something to eat. Taking his dinner over to a corner table, Bryan thought seriously about calling Jenny. He felt terrible about getting angry with her and knew that somehow, he needed to make up. He recalled a picture of her on his phone, the one of her sitting on a terrace in front of a spectacular sunset. It was from her study group meeting when she recruited Ingrid to occupy Carl. Ingrid had taken the picture with Jenny's phone and they sent it to him along with a cute note. Bryan was just about to push the call button when he heard a familiar voice.

"Bryan!" It was Quentin.

Quentin was a high school friend who went off to college with Bryan. While Bryan was the geeky math whiz who took up engineering, Quentin was the smooth talker who graduated from business school.

"Quentin! How the hell are you?" Bryan shook his hand. "I haven't seen you around since you graduated."

"I'm getting ready to move," Quentin said. "I found a good opportunity in Chicago. I'm moving next June."

They talked for a while about Quentin's career prospects and how Bryan's studies were progressing. The talk eventually turned to women.

"Did you decide to marry Cheryl?" Bryan asked. "I heard you were engaged."

"No, I dumped her," Quentin said, shaking his head. "I caught her double dipping."

"How about you?" Quentin asked. "Have you gotten a date since prom night?"

"Yes," Bryan laughed. "She arrived from Russia two weeks ago."

After a good laugh, Bryan told him the truth about Jenny, about how much he liked her, and how they just had a fight. Quentin suggested they go get a real drink and talk this thing through. They hopped into Quentin's car and ended up at a strip club across town. Sitting at the bar instead of the stage, Quentin ordered them some scotch whiskey and wanted to hear the rest of Bryan's story.

Bryan started the story with how they met, what she looked like, and the submarine races. He didn't get really graphic, but he was required to mention her big boobs. He told the story about capsizing Grumpy, Harvey's rescue, and getting Jenny into his apartment.

"Yes, we did," Bryan nodded his head.

"Damn! Way to go, stud," Quentin raised his glass to toast his success.

Bryan finished the story with Jenny's obsession, the faked orgasm, and the argument. He tried to put on a brave face, but it wasn't working. Quentin listened quietly to his tale and kept his glass filled with scotch. He knew the way to get to Bryan was to appeal to his analytical side.

"So, she faked an orgasm so she could go to sleep," Quentin summarized.

"Yeah," Bryan said.

"And she has trouble reaching orgasm when you have sex," Quentin continued. Bryan nodded his agreement.

"Have you tried oral sex?" Quentin asked.

"You mean eating her?" Bryan replied. "Sure, all the time. She likes that kind of foreplay."

"No," Quentin shook his head. "I mean all the way. You know, until she comes."

"Well, no, I guess not," Bryan said.

Quentin put his head down on the bar in disbelief. Sitting back up, he whacked Bryan on the back of his head.

"Dumb ass!" Quentin exclaimed. "How can someone so smart be so dumb?"

"Ouch," Bryan said. "What do you mean?"

"What would you think if every time Jenny gave you a blow job, she would bring you to the brink and then stop?" Quentin asked a rhetorical question.

Bryan rubbed his head and thought about the logical argument his friend had presented.

"That would suck," Bryan finally said. "I see your point."

"Remember that human sexuality class we took last year?" Quentin asked. "You should get that book out and study it."

"Quentin, that was a sociology book, not a field guide," Bryan laughed.

The men finished their drinks and tipped the bartender before leaving. On the way out, one of the dancers waved to them.

"Hey Quentin, where you been, honey?" The dancer called him over.

"Hi Cheryl," Quentin waved back.

~ Sisters In Time ~

Jenny called her sister, Jill, and tearfully explained what had happened. Jill was home alone and had time to listen.

"Did he hit you?" Jill asked, making sure her sister was not physically abused.

"No, he didn't hit me," Jenny said, regaining her composure.

"Ok, so he's just being a regular jerk," Jill continued. "He has a ways to go before becoming an exceptional jerk, like Tony." Jill's humor reassured Jenny.

"I guess he's a jerk in training," Jenny laughed.

"Jen," Jill started more seriously, "it takes a while to adjust to a new person in your life. Making room for him won't always be easy. I think some growing pains are inevitable."

"I guess you're right," Jenny conceded. "I don't know why he got so mad, though."

"He's a guy and he's being selfish and insecure," Jill said. "It's genetic."

Jenny hadn't shared the whole story with Jill and she knew the faked orgasm was an important part.

"There's more to the story," Jenny said. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Sex problems?" Jill asked. "I thought you guys had that figured out."

"Mostly," Jenny said. "I think there is room for improvement."

"Always!" Jill laughed in agreement. "Say Jen, why don't you come down this weekend and stay with me? Jack is off on a fishing trip and I'm here alone. We can catch up and work out some problems, ok?"

"That sounds nice," Jenny replied. "I'll call you when I get there."

When Friday night arrived, Jenny was on board a Greyhound bus, heading for home.

~ Interlude ~

Saturday arrived late for Bryan, who was trying to sleep off a hang over. He wasn't used to drinking scotch and his mouth tasted like crap. It was already noon when he drug himself out of bed and into the shower. As his head began to clear, he remembered Quentin's sage advice. Well, it was more vulgar than sage, he thought, but still worth listening to. He wanted to make up with Jenny and try to help her, not compete with her.

He toweled off and went to get dressed. He was playing in the pep band today for a hockey game, a much more exciting event than basketball. The University hockey team was nationally ranked and the band had front row seats. There was no way he was going to miss the game.

Bryan found his phone and checked for messages. There was one missed call from Carl looking for a party tonight over at the Plaza. Bryan thought that sounded like fun. He was also curious how he and Ingrid were getting along. There were no calls from Jenny, however. He sighed and sent her a text message:

"J, IMS, IMU. XOXO, B"

The hockey game was a loud and raucous affair. In addition to the typical on-ice violence, there was also some bad blood between the visiting team and the home crowd. The pep band often played instigator by singling out particular players for high brow jeers. The home crowd loved to see the band insult the visiting team and the referees. If a penalty call went against the home team, the band usually played "Three Blind Mice".

Events took a turn for the worse just before the start of the 3rd period. The visiting team had taken the ice and were skating their warm up laps around the rink. The home team, leading by 1 goal, had yet to appear. The pep band was playing a popular song with the trombone players standing up in the first row. This was their customary position which allowed them to put their slides over the top of the Plexiglas. Without warning, a visiting player who had been the target of previous jeering, skated by at high speed with his stick raised. Sounding like a playing card in the wheel of a child's bicycle, the hockey stick crashed into each trombone in quick succession. This occurred just as the home team was taking the ice.

The mayhem that followed stopped the game for 30 minutes. Every trombone was extensively damaged and some of the musicians had bloody lips. The home crowd exploded in anger and began throwing any and all loose objects onto the ice. The home team players encircled, and then attacked the perpetrator and wrestled him to the ice. Soon, both teams were engaged in all-out warfare that the referees were powerless to control. One of the injured trombone players tried to joined the fracas, but soon fell on his butt, adding to the spectacle.

Eventually, order was restored to the rink and the game resumed. The visiting hockey player who attacked the band was ejected from the game. The first home team player to tackle him was also ejected. Both teams were assessed match penalties for fighting resulting in 4-on-4 play for the next 5 minutes. The injured musicians were attended to and the would-be trombone/hockey player was asked to leave. Hundreds of cell phone pictures and video clips were taken and the local news media arrived. The official game cameras caught it all and the scene made the national news.

Bryan had been hit with flying boxes of popcorn and soft drinks, but he and his saxophone were uninjured. He would have to clean himself and his instrument up a bit before meeting Carl at the Plaza. As he rode his bike up the street, he noticed a pickup truck parked in front of Erica's house. He did not recognize the vehicle, but it was not unusual to find cars parked there. He walked up the stairs to his apartment and went into the kitchen. Still laughing at the hockey circus he was a part of, he got a cold beer from the refrigerator. A wet towel easily removed the sticky syrup from his sax.

Another quick shower was required to rinse his hair and he changed into a clean pair of jeans. Still shirtless, Bryan walked out into his living room to put on some music while he got ready to go meet Carl. Bryan went to close his curtains, but first looked into Erica's apartment. Since that time he watched her masturbate, he could not quite put her out of his mind. Erica was in her living room and she was not alone.

There was a man on the sofa with her and they were in some kind of embrace. Maybe they were wrestling, he wondered. They were both dressed, something Bryan was a little disappointed to see. He had since fantasized about watching Erica fuck some guy in her living room. He wondered if that is what she was up to. Bryan decided it would be best if he didn't know and started to close the curtains. Suddenly, he heard voices from her apartment.

"Come on, bitch," the man had raised his voice.

"Stop it!" Erica was yelling. "You're hurting me!"

Bryan pulled back the curtain and saw the man raise his hand and slap it across Erica's face. Erica screamed out and covered her head with her arms. The man was raising his hand to strike her again. Bryan should have called 911 and reported the assault, but instead, he decided to take rash action. Flying down the stairs and outside, he ran over to Erica's front door and rang the door bell and pounded on the door many times, hoping to affect her escape. Finally, a man came down the stairs and opened the door.

"What the hell do you want?" the man asked.

The man was too big for Bryan to take down, so he decided to buy some time.

"Oh, hey dude. I was wondering if Erica was home. She, like, borrowed a CD, and I need it back. Wow man, is that your truck? That is so cool," Bryan rambled on using a stoned voice that he usually saved for comedic effect.

"What?" the man said. "She doesn't have your fucking CD and leave my truck alone. Now get the fuck out of here!"

The man closed the door in his face. Bryan memorized the license plate on the truck and then ran back to his apartment. He looked over into Erica's empty living room; he hoped she had either hid or escaped, but she could also be injured. The man in her apartment was yelling again.

"Where the hell are you?" the man yelled. "Come out here you bitch!"

Bryan could see the man searching through the rooms looking for her. The man yelled a final obscenity and left. He roared off down the street in his truck, squealing the tires as he rounded the corner.

Bryan was unsure of what to do next. For the moment, it seemed that Erica had hidden or escaped. He didn't think the danger had passed, however. The crazed man could have been a boyfriend or maybe even a pimp. Either way, the man could return with a gun. Bryan picked up his phone to call the authorities, but there was a knock at the back door.

Erica had heard Bryan pounding on her door and ringing the bell and tried to convince the guy to let her answer. Instead, he pushed her down on the sofa and told her to stay there while he got rid of whoever it was. Erica could hear Bryan's voice and his stupid Beavis & Butthead routine. She ran into her kitchen, out the back entrance, and down the stairwell. These old houses had back entrances on both floors, something that this creepy guy knew nothing about. Erica ran out behind her house and into Bryan's rear stairwell to hide. Trembling in the dark, Erica sat breathlessly until she heard the pickup truck drive away.

Bryan unlocked the rear entrance and opened the door. Erica ran into the kitchen, shut off the lights, and sat down at the table. Bryan locked the back door and followed her.

"Erica, are you all right?" Bryan asked with real concern.

"No," Erica cried. "What a fucking creep."

"Creep?" Bryan said. "That guy was psycho, hitting you like that."

"He seemed human when I met him," Erica said. "I guess I was wrong."

Erica had a drop of blood in the corner of her mouth and Bryan handed her a tissue. In the low light, he thought the side of her face looked red, maybe bruised. Her clothes were not bloody or torn; she was lucky to escape.

"Are you hurt?" Bryan asked. "Do you want to see a doctor?"

"No," Erica replied. "I'll be ok. I was lucky you were watching me."

In his haste, Bryan had not considered all the ramifications of his actions. He had distracted the man long enough for Erica to escape his abuse; that was the intended outcome. He had also blown his cover, so to speak, and now she knew that he was watching her from his apartment. This was an unintended outcome and Bryan became uneasy.

"I'm sorry," Bryan finally said. "I heard you scream and I saw him hit you. I wasn't peeping."

Erica knew he was lying, she had noticed him looking at her before. She knew he had watched her masturbate, she had seen him peeking through the window. She was horny that night and without a date, so she watched the porno and started to please herself. It wasn't until she saw him in the window that she stepped up her performance. She could have come without fisting herself, that part was for him. She had imagined Bryan cumming all over her body and that fantasy had pushed her over the edge. Erica looked around and saw the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

"Can I have a drink?" Erica asked, pointing at the bourbon.

Bryan poured a shot of whiskey into a plastic cup and handed it to her. He noticed he was running out.

"Aren't you going to drink with me?" Erica asked.

"Sure," Bryan said, pouring himself a drink. "You can stay here a while, if you want. At least until you're sure he won't come back."

"Thanks," Erica replied.

~ A Dangerous Liaison ~

They walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. Bryan closed the curtains and poured the last remnants of the bourbon into her glass. Erica slouched next to him on the sofa and closed her eyes, trying to relax. As Bryan watched her chest rise and fall, he silently took stock. She was nearly opposite in appearance from Jenny: short blonde hair, a long torso, and thin legs. Not the same zaftig appearance of Jenny. Erica had small breasts that moved in perfect time with her breathing. No extraneous motion there, he thought. Her legs were bent at the knees and slightly spread, and her hands were resting on her tummy. Bryan remembered watching her put her hand inside of her pussy. He stirred on the sofa as his cock began to swell.

Erica sat up when he moved and reached for her drink. She had just been fantasizing about Bryan and how he might look with his pants off. His shirtless upper body was smooth and muscular, and his long curly hair made him seem like some kind of Adonis character. Sipping the whiskey and feeling flush, she looked over at him.

"So," Erica began, "did you enjoy the little show I put on for you?"

"What show was that?" Bryan asked.

"The one where I masturbated for you," Erica said.

Bryan made a little coughing noise and hesitated. He drank the last of his whiskey before responding.

"Yes," Bryan said. There was no longer any point in denying what they both knew. "I enjoyed that immensely."

"Did you stand by the window and jerk yourself off, too?" Erica asked, lowering her voice.

"Yes," Bryan whispered his reply.

"Would you show me? Can I see your cock?" Erica asked.

"Erica!" Bryan exclaimed. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to fuck right now."

"Who said anything about fucking?" Erica said with a twisted smile.

Erica rose from the sofa and unbuttoned her shirt. Slowly, she removed it, unclasp her bra and let them drop to the floor. She saw Bryan's eyes widen as she ran her hands over her tits and squeeze them. She unzipped her pants and pulled one long leg out, followed by the other. Standing before him completely naked, she reached down to take his hand.

"Your turn," Erica said as she sat back down on the sofa.

Bryan stood and began to remove his jeans, slowly pulling them down over his boxers. He mimicked her striptease by slowly removing his legs. Putting his thumbs in the waistband, he pulled down his boxers revealing, inch by inch, the shaft of his growing cock. Once in the clear, his cock sprang up, dangerously pointing in Erica's direction. Lying in front of him on the sofa, Erica was stroking her pussy, just like before.

"Stroke it for me," Erica cooed. "Show me how you jerked yourself off."

Bryan decided to play along with this mutual masturbation game. Holding his cock firmly, he started stroking himself while watching Erica rub and finger her pussy. Her gaze was fixed on his rigid tool and he made sure it was pointed directly at her. He watched Erica's glistening pussy open as she inserted another finger inside. As Bryan started to groan softly and speed up his movements, Erica responded with her own moan. Pulling back on her skin, she forced her clitoris out from its hooded enclave. She rubbed her wet fingers on her clit in small circles and slid her third finger inside her pussy. Bryan was now breathing heavily and jerking himself at high speed. Erica decided she wanted to assist him.

"Let me help you," Erica growled as she sat up straight.

Erica grabbed Bryan's cock with her wet hands and began stroking him from head to hilt. She spit in the palms of her hands and applied the saliva to his throbbing cock, simultaneously stroking the head and massaging his balls. Bryan could feel a wet finger probing his anus and he jumped at the sensation. His groans turned to growls as he felt a tingle start to rise from his toes and legs. Erica let go of him and lay back on the sofa.

"Shoot me now," Erica hissed.

Erica arched her back and grabbed her tits, holding them up. Moving in closer and aiming at the target, Bryan jerked himself until he could no longer hold back. A great rope of cum blasted from his cock, finding her tits and chin. Another blast landed on her tummy as Erica cried out with satisfaction. Reaching up, she helped him pump his load onto her abdomen. Bryan shuddered and fell to his knees before her spread legs.

Erica hummed as she rubbed his semen into her chest and tummy. The show she had just watched surpassed her own fantasy. Bryan's cock was beautiful and he had hosed her down thoroughly. She was really close to coming and she wanted Bryan to finish her.

"Please finger fuck me," Erica pleaded. "I'll show you how."