The Friends List Ch. 01

All characters are over 18 in this story. I started writing it with the intention of setting it in the present day, but the combination of COVID restrictions and cultural references I wanted to make has pushed the setting back to the year 2010. There should be nothing much in here that screams what year it is, though, apart from characters in their early 20's fondly remembering the 90's.

Thank you to Ravenna933 for the edits, and RawSilhouette for the inspiration, beta reading and plot development help.

The familiar lights of the GO Train station hove into view as my commuter train screeched to a stop. It was just after eleven PM on a cool late April evening, and I inhaled deeply as I exited, the slight sharpness of the air a reminder that winter had only recently released its hold on the city. I bounded down, suitcase in hand, and caught a taxi home.

I'd just finished my third year of university at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario, majoring in economics. I hoped to go to law school someday, but LSATs were a problem for the upcoming summer. For now, I was finally done for the year; my last exam written only days before. I'd spent a couple of days packing up my apartment and temporarily saying goodbye to my roommates - I was hanging onto the lease for the summer, and I planned to go back periodically, but for now, all I wanted was my own bed and some home cooking and a chance to decompress for a couple of weeks.

The driver navigated the familiar streets as I inched closer to home. As we finally reached my house, though, my jaw dropped - the house was pulsating with activity, with every window blazing with light and a loud, bassy thumping penetrating the windows of the car. People were everywhere - inside, outside, on the porch, the lawn - clearly having a massive party. What the fuck?

Annoyed, I shoved my way into the house, finding a raging inferno of university-aged kids occupying the living room. Where was Mom? Where was Vanessa? I shoved my way through the bodies and finally found my stepsister in the kitchen, holding court with a bunch of girls in low-cut tops and football-player type bros in athletic wear.

"What the fuck?" I opened angrily.

Vanessa looked up.

"Oh, hey, Peter! Everyone, Peter's back!" She smiled sleepily at me. I quickly realized she was absolutely hammered, so drunk she appeared to be barely standing upright.

"Where are Mom and Walt?"

"Daddy and Diane went away for the weekend. Didn't they tell you?"

"No?"

"Relax, Peter. There's a keg on the back porch and some liquor on the table. Help yourself." She turned her attention back to her friends.

I was furious, but I recognized the hopelessness of the situation. Short of turning Vanessa in to Mom and Walt, there was little I could do but ride out the party. She lived here, so I couldn't call the police or anything. It's not like I was normally the type to turn down a party anyway, but I was exhausted from the long train ride, I had a headache, and I just wanted to go to sleep. I doubted I'd get any sleep for hours at this rate.

I headed for my room to drop off my suitcase, flinging the door open to find a slender Asian guy sitting on my bed, receiving a blowjob from a pretty dark-haired girl.

"Occupied! Get the fuck out!" the guy yelled at me.

"This is my room! I live here! You get the fuck out!" I shouted back, making eye contact. I wasn't a violent person, but I was fully prepared to get physical with this guy if he insisted.

The guy and the girl exchanged a glance, then he stood up, bundling up his cock into his pants. The two of them glared at me as they left. Once they were gone, I jammed a chair under the doorknob and lay down on the bed, willing the thumping noise of a Justin Timberlake song to be turned down just a bit so I could relax. This was the last thing I needed tonight.

Vanessa. I hadn't seen a lot of her or her friends this past year. Kingston to Guelph was far enough away that I couldn't quite make it home on a random weekend, and she'd been on some sort of volunteer experience in Central America over Christmas. Had I even seen her since she started university? I wracked my brain and realized with a start that it had been since last September that we'd even spoken.

I figured she'd changed being a first-year student - Mom had hinted as much when I'd talked to her - but the shy, nerdy high school girl I'd known wouldn't have done something like this. Her friend group in high school weren't the partying type either, from my recollection - they were what I guess I'd have described as 'cool nerds'. They were the kind of smart girls who effortlessly pulled good grades and weren't what you'd call ultra-popular, but still had enough social skills and good hygiene not to be bullied.

For the first decade and a half of my life, it had just been me and my Mom. I'd never known my biological father, and once I was old enough to be told, I'd learned he had been a one-night stand and never made it onto my birth certificate. Mom had never even told him she was pregnant. She finally married for the first time when I was fifteen, and while any blending of a family has its ups and downs, I'd liked my stepdad Walt enough. We both shared a love of music and bonded over jamming together with our guitars. He'd introduced me to some older bands and artists that I now loved - Big Star, Nick Drake, Robyn Hitchcock. Walt's former wife had died of cancer years back, and once I got over my teenage bullheadedness and protectiveness of my Mom, I realized he was a good guy, and he made her happy.

But Walt had come with a teenage daughter, and two teenagers who were both used to being only children were never going to get along. It was never open warfare between us, but I never understood Vanessa and never made the effort, and I never got the feeling that she cared to get to know me, either. Having a teenage girl in the house mostly just meant the bathroom we shared was always occupied and there was never enough hot water or junk food. She was two years younger than me and immature; always seeming to be even younger than that in terms of her mental age. When I left home to go to university, she was barely sixteen.

Now, of course, she was nineteen to my twenty-one, and had just finished her first year in general arts and humanities at the University of Guelph. She'd spent the year living at home with our parents, which was another decision I didn't understand. She didn't have a boyfriend at home or any other reason that I could think of to want to stay. Mom had mentioned her friends had scattered throughout the province to go to school, so she wasn't staying behind for them, and she wasn't interested in farming or veterinary medicine or any of Guelph's other academic specialties. But she clearly either hadn't missed out on the freshman party lifestyle, or she had, and was making up for it tonight. Christ.

I lay there for a good ten minutes, trying to relax, before I decided it was a lost cause. I wouldn't have chosen this, but I may as well make the most of it, right? I headed for the bar, quickly downed a double shot of bourbon from someone's liquor bottle, then filled up a red Solo cup with beer from the keg as I looked around for familiar faces.

I spotted one hanging out in the backyard. "Hi, Laura."

"Peter!" The blonde girl broke off from her conversation and bounded towards me, giving me a big, long hug.

"Easy there," I squeaked. Laura's grip was pretty strong.

"When did you get back?" She finally released me.

"Just now. I didn't realize I was coming home to a party."

"Yeah, Vanessa put all this together at the last minute."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Your parents decided to go out of town. They got some discounted last-minute theatre tickets in Toronto, I think she said. They'll be home late tomorrow."

"So that means throw a rager in their house? The Vanessa I knew wouldn't have done that."

"She's changed a lot."

I rolled my eyes.

"So have you, though! When did you grow a beard?" She reached out and gently touched it.

"Kingston gets cold in winter, and the wind and damp off Lake Ontario is murderous. I grew it to keep warm, and I guess I just got used to it."

"It looks good on you!"

Laura Keelor was one of Vanessa's high school friends. She was a tall blonde with glasses, a square face, a small chest and a big ass. Since I'd last seen her she'd filled out into an adult body, and she was prettier than I'd remembered. I caught myself glancing at her cleavage as I checked her out, wearing jeans and a flattering purple halter top.

I'd known that Laura had had a schoolgirl crush on me when we were both in high school, but she was socially awkward and one of my stepsister's friends, both of which were reasons why I'd never taken a second look at her. But I'd certainly noticed the way she looked at me anytime we were in a space together. I'd always been flattered by her interest, as I hadn't been used to knowing when girls were crushing on me, but the attention from Laura also creeped me out a little. I had generally tried to keep her at arms' length.

"Is there anyone else here I'd know?" I asked her.

Laura thought for a minute. "A couple of the girls we hung around with in high school are here. Michelle Mackenzie is around somewhere with her boyfriend."

I made a face.

"I know she was never your favourite person. I saw Samantha earlier too, but I haven't seen her in at least an hour. She might have gone to the bar. A group left a while back."

"I don't remember that name."

"Of course you know Sam. The one with the BMW?"

"Right," I remembered. "The rich brat."

"Did you like any of Vanessa's friends?" Laura asked accusingly.

"I liked Monique."

"And me, right?" Laura batted her eyelids hopefully.

"Sure," I lied, "but I never got to know any of your group, not really. You know I've never been close to Vanessa."

Laura nodded. "That might be it. These people at the party are mostly Vanessa's new friends from university, I think. I barely know anyone here either."

"You're not at Guelph, then? Where did you go?"

"Western," she responded. "My exams ended on Tuesday."

"You like it?"

"It's fine. First year is all general; I'm looking forward to more specialized classes. I also didn't really fit in in residence. I was in the party rez, and I like parties, but I still like sleep and studying too. It's probably not a coincidence I'm out here in the yard, huh?"

"It is super noisy in there." I gestured at the house, which was practically throbbing with bass notes.

"Not my thing."

"Yeah, this party's a big one."

"Monique!" Laura suddenly shouted across the yard.

I barely recognized her. Monique Lachance had been another of Vanessa's friends in high school. She'd been the only one I'd ever talked to without Vanessa there; the only one I sort of knew, and I'd genuinely liked her. But I remembered her as a bookish, heavyset girl who lived in loose sweaters and flowing skirts; the kind of girl who never put a second thought into her appearance. The girl in front of me was thin and fit with a dyed scarlet red pixie cut, dressed in ripped stockings and a pleather halter top and miniskirt. She was setting off my gaydar from across the yard as she came over.

"Hi Laura. Hi Peter," Monique smiled.

"You look different," I sputtered.

"Yeah!" she agreed brightly. "Apparently getting out of your judgmental religious household is good for you!"

"Incredible. I barely recognized you."

"Thanks. The past year has been really good for me." She turned to Laura. "I just got here. Is Vanessa shitfaced already again?"

"At least she didn't pass out on the lawn at 8 PM like last time," Laura responded sarcastically.

"I feel like my stepsister has changed a little since I last saw her," I interjected hopefully. I wanted Monique's perspective.

"She has. I'm assuming you're here for the night?" Monique asked, sidestepping the question.

"Well, I do live here..."

"I was planning to crash on the couch tonight and help with the cleanup tomorrow. I'll fill you in then, if we don't get the chance tonight."

"This isn't the first time?" I was suddenly concerned for the safety of my stuff in my room.

"She's never hosted a party before, no. Your parents are always around."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, they are big homebodies. And I'm glad I'm here for this one. I can make sure the house is still standing tomorrow. If the worst that happens is a couple of glasses get broken and a couple of beds get defiled, we'll be okay."

"Speaking of defiling a bed, I wish Claire had been able to come..." Monique trailed off wistfully.

"Your girlfriend?"

Monique thought for a moment. "Let's call her 'the girl I'm currently hooking up with'."

Laura sighed. "Everyone's changed so much."

Monique gave her friend a hug. "If you've never had drunken sex at a big house party, did you even go to university?"

"I already had to kick a couple engaged in a sex act out of my room," I added. "I'm sure someone else is in there now."

"Sex in your room, huh?" Laura's face suddenly appeared lost in thought, and I noticed her biting her bottom lip. I'd learned to recognize the signs when a woman was getting turned on, and I could see them appearing in Laura right now. Christ, she has filled out nicely, hasn't she? My feelings on her hadn't changed, but the growing erection in my underwear was proof that I was suddenly feeling tempted in a way I never had before.

"Well, I'm off to see who else is here," Monique interrupted the silence. "Nice to see you again, Peter. You too, Laura."

Another pause followed as we watched Monique's shapely behind disappear into the house.

"You're majoring in English?" I changed the subject.

"Astrophysics." Laura smiled. Her nipples were now poking through her thin top.

We stared awkwardly at each other again.

"I'm surprised you even remembered my name, Peter."

"Sorry."

"It's fine." She sighed. "You never paid me any attention."

"You're my stepsister's friend. You're younger. You were off limits back then."

"Yeah, I know I was." She sighed in disappointment.

My cock suddenly spoke up. "But you're not anymore."

"Oh?" Laura's eyes suddenly were ablaze with anticipation.

"Want to go see if anyone else is in my room?" I quickly finished my beer.

"Why not?" She broke into a big smile.

I stood up, offering a hand, as I led her through the house towards my room.

The room was still empty, thankfully, as I closed the door behind us. I was instantly struck with second thoughts, asking myself if I really wanted to potentially stick my dick in crazy, but then I heard drunken shrieking out in the hall, and I was instantly annoyed again. Fuck everything, we're doing this.

I turned around to face Laura, who was standing nervously, staring at me as she played with her ponytail. "I can't believe this is really happening," she whispered.

"You know it's just a hookup, though, right?" I asked cautiously. "Nothing more?"

"Yeah, I know. I still want to do it."

I pulled her closer to me, feeling her breath short against my cheek, then kissed her slowly. I could feel her lower lip trembling as she returned the kiss.

I led her to the bed, laying her down. I could feel her heart pounding against me as I gently ran my fingertips up and down her arm, across her hips, her breasts, through her hair. I could tell Laura was turned on, but I also wanted to calm her down a little before continuing. Her body was so taut with tension I was worried she'd faint.

We lay like that for at least ten minutes, not talking, listening to the raucous sounds of the party outside the room. At long last, I felt Laura's breathing slow, and I took that as my cue to lean over and kiss her again, first slowly, then with more intensity. Her body was still stiff and tight, like a coiled spring.

"Relax," I whispered. I reached under her shirt and into the cup of her bra, touching her stiff nipple. She sucked in her breath as I gently tweaked it, and I felt the tension in her body increase further.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded quickly. "I'm just really turned on."

I took that as my cue to let my hand drift down between her legs, where I found the crotch of her leggings damp with copious moisture. I was surprised, and I looked up at her. She averted her eyes in embarrassment.

"Sorry. I get really wet really easily."

"It's okay. It's hot."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "Guys seem to think it's gross."

"Those guys are crazy." I touched the wet patch, quickly finding the firm spot that was clearly making its presence known near the top of the puddle.

"You found my clit?" Laura breathed, stifling a moan. "Through two layers?"

"I don't know if I approve of these guys you're sleeping with, based upon your reactions," I teased her.

Laura blushed. "There haven't been that many. I know Western girls have a bit of a slutty reputation, but I never really got into that."

"Well, that is what Western's known for. They can't do a Nativity play at Christmas, because they can't find a virgin or three wise men."

Laura laughed. "I don't even know why I'm in bed with a Queen's guy. Our schools are archrivals, after all."

"I don't care about football."

"Me neither."

"Besides, I don't care how many guys you've been with."

"That's good of you to say, but you're only my third anyway," she revealed. "Oooooh. Who taught you how to touch a girl like that?"

I didn't answer, but instead I pulled back and slid my hand into her leggings. Her mound was bare and smooth, and she was wet, as wet a pussy as I'd ever touched, just a flood of hot arousal that instantly coated my hand as I spread what felt like prominent inner labia with my fingertip and collected moisture from the source.

"What do you like?" I asked her as I stroked up and down around her opening, experimenting with different pressure points and strokes as I tried to gauge her reactions.

Laura looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you like it hard, soft, fast, slow? You can guide me if you want to."

She shook her head. "No one's ever asked me that before. I don't even know how to answer."

"No?"

"Like..." she thought for a minute. "Like I know what I do that feels good, but I don't know if I know how to explain it."

"Show me. Guide my hand."

Laura reached into her panties, grasping my fingers and guiding them into a light, slippery stroke in circles around the hood of her clit. After a few moments, I shook her off and started touching her, mimicking what she'd done.

"Oh, Peter, that's so good," she whined, raising her hips to my touch.

I tried to keep reading her reactions as her body moved in sync with my fingers. As her movements grew more frantic, I gradually increased speed and pressure, and before long she came. The tension in her body was unbelievable as she grasped my body firmly and her legs closed around my fingers. I watched her face scarlet with pleasure as her orgasm blew through her body. She was holding her breath, and I could see the veins in her neck bulging with exertion.

In a moment she finally relaxed, her body turning to jelly. "Fuuuuuuuuuck."

"That was hot. That looked like a big one."

"It was," was all she could spit out.

I was hard, but I was prepared to be patient, as Laura appeared to be in no condition to do much but lie and catch her breath. I lay together with her for a few moments, hearing the racing of her heart as I rested my head on her chest. The sounds of the party through the wall felt like they might conceivably be dying down a little.

"Can I ask you something?" Laura finally broke the silence.

"Of course."

"How did you do that?"