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Chapter ONE: Get On With Our Lives
Dedicated to Bianca.
This is my first ever erotic story. I had ideas for this series for awhile and decided to finally write them out. These ideas were influenced by my real life, combined with missed opportunities and personal fantasies. The story is complete fiction; however many of the situations are exaggerations based off my life experience.
Feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading!
SCENE ONE: You Never Know What Might Happen
It was 9:15pm. It was a Friday night. I could hear neighbors slowly turning up the music. The latest Top 40 pop-flavored dance track rumbled through the atmosphere. I could faintly hear those dumbasses laughing, yelling, and causing a ruckus.
Awake on my bed, I stared uninterested at my blank white ceiling. I slouched there watching the shadows of the curtains sway as the ceiling fan blew recycled hot air throughout the room. My computer screen is turned on with a blank white screen. I haven’t written anything in so long. I loved to write, but tonight I want to forget everything, ever.
Then I gently closed my eyes. The sound of bass music and laughter slowly floated into stillness. A fuzzy feeling overtook my body. Sleep at last! And they say nothing ever happens overnight…
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!*
Four rapid knocks broke my slumber as I open my eyes. First thing I looked at is the time on my phone. It’s 9:25pm. Really? Only 10 minutes of sleep? That knocking on the door must be Dylan, my interruptive roommate. I rolled out of bed onto my feet and slowly waddle to the door to unlock it. I slowly opened the door, preparing to see his usual stupid happy face.
“Get dressed. We’re going out!” Dylan commanded. He grabbed my left shoulder and pulled me into the hallway, almost losing my balance. “And you smell like shit, by the way.”
Dylan was a year younger than me, at 22 years old. He’s a tallish, lanky stoner with his blonde shaggy hair slightly covering his eyes. He used to work as a driver at a pizza bar called Italiano’s. He got me a job as a cook over there before he got fired for being late three days in a row. Now he’s at a community college studying… actually I’m not sure what he’s majoring in. Does one have a major at a community college? He’s annoying most times, but at least he supplies copious amounts of pot to help relax my boring crappy life.
“Not tonight man. Just got back from my night class and I… I just want to be alone right now. I just want some sleep.” I slurred.
I felt like shit. I looked like shit. I wanted this day to end and prayed for a less shitty tomorrow. Every day I felt like this, to be honest. And sadly every day always felt like the same level of shit. Damn, am I being fucking emo or what?
“Enough! Live your life man… Stop with all that wrist cutting bullcrap. What good are you doing locking yourself in your room every damn night?! It’s great that you’re finally going to school and working, but you come home right after and jerk it or sleep or do whatever you do. Nothing exciting is ever going to happen to you if you don’t put yourself out there, man!” Dylan said enthusiastically.
He waited for my inexistent response, and then chimed in again. “You’re always on your computer writing your stupid stories that you won’t even let me read. Or on your bed with your headphones on. Don’t you want to do something else?”
He’s usually blunt with me on things like this. He’s tried to convince me over and over to stop being a sad sack. This time, however, his words hit me in the gut. I’ve always told him I lock myself in my room because I’m writing my next short story or ideas for a screenplay. In reality, I can’t remember the last time I wrote something creative. I have been lazy with my personal goals and afraid of talking to people about feelings or anything in general. Being unproductive sucks.
“Plus, I guarantee there’ll be a ton of hot chicks there!” Dylan added. He smiled as if that would seal the deal. “And not just any hot chicks, super college hot chicks! As in, girls that are way out of your league so you might just be staring at them at a safe distance. Then you’ll go home empty handed and jerk off alone. But still, you never know what might happen!”
“What’s the occasion?” I asked.
“It’s Megan’s friend’s birthday. She’s just throwing a little get together at her place. So you know, a bunch of hot babes, repetitive club music, smoking, drinking…” Dylan paused for a second and turned his head behind him. “…She’s turning 21, right babe?”
He was talking to Megan, his off again on again girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’ is a loose term I suppose. Megan hangs around the pad a lot. They seem serious when they’re together, and strangers when they break up. But they always magnetically and magically reunite on a week to week basis.
Megan answered Dylan’s question by raising her eyebrows and nodding. She removed her jacket to aliağa escort reveal her tight white t-shirt, showing off her petite upper-body and a pair of black jeans that hugged her curvy thighs. Her dark ravenous hair twirled backwards as she turned around and walked away from us, with her black knee-high boots clicking on the kitchen tiles. I took a glance from behind as she bounced her round booty, swaying her hips gleefully towards Dylan’s bedroom to get ready for the party.
Now, don’t worry folks. I’m not going to end up banging Megan. That would be an injustice towards Dylan. A true cold blooded stab in the back if you ask me. I was merely describing my surroundings in depth with eloquent words and stuff. You know. Like how a novel should be.
“Anyways yeah. Let’s go dude. Hit the showers, put on a nice clean shirt and let’s do this!” Dylan demanded. He followed Megan to his bedroom to get ready.
I stood isolated in the hallway with my undershirt and boxers on, looking into my bedroom. It was a mess. Just like me. What the hell, why not go? Maybe it’ll give me something to do for once in my life.
I entered my bathroom and stripped out of my worn out clothes. As I tossed off my last article of clothing, I took a gander at the mirror and checked out my body. I stood before my reflection a 6’0”, 23 year old man with nothing to lose. While wondering if I should shave, I ran my hand across my 5 o’clock stubble and throughout my crew cut shaved head. There was probably no time shave, and I guess ladies like that Zac Efron stubble look. That dude has awesome stubble.
I was overweight through most of my life, but after a traumatic event I decided to pick up jogging, eating healthy and lifting flimsy dumbbells I bought from Wal-Mart. Once 270 pounds, I lost over 80 pounds through a year and a half. There was still some more work to do as parts of my body weren’t toned to my liking. Still, I was pleased with the results. However, despite all my physical changes, my introverted personality still emerged in social environments.
I did my best bodybuilder impression and also inspected my cock hanging between my legs. Then I inched closer face to face with my clone in the mirror. I’m a decent lookin’ piece of meat if I say so myself. So where’s my confidence when I need it? Why am I afraid to engage in conversations with women?
It probably has to do with my ex-girlfriend, Amanda; all the horrific, heart-breaking things she did to my poor gullible soul. She was that traumatic event that led to me losing all my excess weight. Maybe I should just let go of the past and leave it decaying where it should be… but that’s another story. Self-Awareness (Ch. 3) to be exact.
I took a quick shower, got changed, ran my fingers through my hair and coated myself with body spray. Dylan and Megan were waiting for me in the living room, watching a re-run of a sitcom. Sitcoms are funny because they preprogram a laugh-track to tell your stupid ass when to laugh. Sorry, I really hate sitcoms. They turned around when they heard my footsteps treading on the carpet.
“Fuck, finally! Took you long enough.” Dylan said. He got up from the comfort of the couch. “Let’s go!”
“You ready Ryan?” Megan asked. “You’re lookin’ really good, by the way.”
She looked at me, scanning up and down with her big brown eyes, batting her eyelashes quickly when she made contact with me. She was always teasing and flirting with me. Dylan was actually cool with it, as long as I don’t bone her. And remember readers, I’m not going to bone her.
Oh yeah. By the way as Megan mentioned, my name is Ryan.
“Thanks.” I answered. “So who’s car we taking?”
“We’ll take Megan’s car since she knows where Annalisa lives. And also because I don’t have a car!” Dylan laughed.
So, Megan’s friend’s name is Annalisa. I wonder how she looks like. Sounds like an exotic name. Annalisa…
“You’re such a dork.” Megan aimed at Dylan. “Let’s head out gang.”
We left our now lonely house and marched towards Megan’s Volkswagen Jetta. Yes, that’s right. A Jetta. I lodged myself in the back as Dylan sat himself down in the passenger seat. Megan started the engine and puttered our way towards the destination. Dylan released himself from the restraint of his seatbelt and turned his head towards me.
“Okay boy, here’s the rundown. So, her name is Annalisa. Wish her a Happy Birthday and stuff, get her a drink, I don’t know. Just don’t act like a weirdo.” Dylan said.
“Annalisa, right?” I asked. “Can I call her Anna, or Lisa? Four syllables are too much for a first name.”
“No, just Annalisa!” Megan spouted. “She doesn’t like it when people shorten her name.”
“Is she hot?” I asked. I was legitimately curious. Randomly generated images of this mysterious Annalisa appeared throughout my mind.
“Meh,” Dylan replied, using a sideways waving hand gesture to indicate she’s just mediocre.
Megan shoved Dylan with izmir rus escort her right hand and shot a look of disapproval. “Hey, what the fuck!?” Dylan shouted.
The Jetta stopped.
“We’re here guys!” Megan announced.
SCENE TWO: Annalisa’s Birthday Party
“Alright, come on fellas.” Megan ordered.
The two walked in front of me as I shuffled behind them like a lost duckling. Megan pressed the little white button ringing the doorbell. Is this going to be awkward? I haven’t been to a party in quite some time, plus I don’t know any of these folks. I’m so nervous right now, I’m like… I mean…
Hold on, what am I saying? C’mon, get your shit together soldier.
The locks on the front door clicked and clacked and the knob slowly turned. The hinges creaked as the door finally opened to reveal a woman welcoming us. I saw people in the background drinking, sitting down, and casually talking. Some sort of 80’s music was playing, although it could have easily been some recent wannabe hip band trying to replicate the 80’s sound.
“Megan! Alright, you brought your friends. Come on in guys!” the woman greeted us.
She opened the door wider so all of us can come in. She looked at me with a piercing gaze as I noticed her intense sky-blue eyes. Her straightened out blonde hair barely touched her shoulders, waving with movement as she closed the door behind us. Her jewelry made shattering noises when she made any type of action. As she walked past me, I noticed her black and purple dress that molded the outline of her surprisingly shapely ass. Well God Damn! So this is the one and only Annalisa! The blonde chick hugged Megan, squishing her handful-sized tits with Megan’s chest and led us through into the house.
Nice place. On the right was a staircase that revealed a second floor. On the left was another room that also led to the kitchen. And straight ahead was where all the party goers had gathered up. I’d imagine that’s the living room. I moved straight ahead, trailing Dylan and Megan as this blue-eyed, big butt, blonde beauty led us past everyone and towards the backyard. Shit, there’s even more people out there! Don’t wimp out now, Ryan.
Out on the patio, a man is barbequing half cooked meat and loud people were having fun in the swimming pool. Near the pool a small circle of friends were drinking beer and laughing like high hyenas. That circle broke as a casually-dressed chubby girl emerged from the group and greeted our blonde tour guide.
“Thanks Wendy!” she shouted at the appealing blonde.
So, I guess that wasn’t Annalisa. Her name was Wendy. I’m not really good with names, but I’m sure I will remember hers.
Wendy laughed. “You’re soooo drunk Annalisa. I’m going to head back inside, you guys have fun!”
So the stumpy flabby girl was Annalisa. The effects of alcohol took an effect on her, as Annalisa stumbled over the garden hose, regained her balance and walked towards us.
She was wearing a loose white top with dried paint all over the fabric. It looked like she was finger-painting or a bunch of Skittles bags had just finished raping her. She also wore some very short shorts which she had no business wearing considering her… let’s put this nicely… morbid obesity. I ain’t judging though, well kind of. She stood there with her double chin, short hair, thin red lips, and red veins crept up into the white of her eyes. She made train wrecks watchable. ‘Mediocre’ was putting it nicely. Thanks for the warning Dylan.
Wendy headed back into the house and made blazing eye contact with me once more, but just for a split second. It feels like she’s trying to cast a spell with her majestic sapphire eyeballs. She swung her golden hair to one side and smiled as she passed right by me. That movement in her hair brushed a small gust of wind, transferring the sweetest smell of random flowers and fragrance to my nostrils. I couldn’t help but to turn around and watch that plump, tight ass of hers one more time, thundering up and down with each step she took. Her head turned slightly. I can see the side of her strikingly lovely face. She knew I was checking her out and smiled again. Weirdly enough, I wasn’t as embarrassed as I normally was.
“…and this is Ryan.” Megan said, as she interrupted my drooling over Wendy’s beautiful behind. Oh yeah. I completely forgot about the birthday girl.
“Hi, Ryan.” Annalisa slurred under her breath, staring at her wriggling toes in her flip flops.
I better get this over with. Maybe I can find that Wendy chick before the night is over. Well hey, take a look at me! Thinking I can stand a chance with the hot blonde.
“Hey Anal…” I choked, accidentally butchering her beloved first name. There must have been something caught in my throat. I haven’t vocally spoken since I was in the car.
“…Lisa” Annalisa finished.
She then randomly chuckled like a maniac. “Yeah it’s Annalisa, izmir escort but you can call me Anna if you want.”
“Hey uh, hey Dylan. Let’s go grab something to drink. And um, check out the house and, yeah,” Megan interjected. She grabbed Dylan by the shirt. “We’ll catch up with you two later.” Megan looked directly at Annalisa, giggling. Dylan and Megan then disappeared into the house.
Catch up later? Leaving us alone? Oh, I see what this is. Now I see why Dylan wanted me to come to this party so badly. Dylan and Megan are trying to hook me up with Annalisa. Probably because they know how upset I’ve been with life recently. I appreciate their help and all, but screw them. Actually, what the fuck?! It’s not like I can’t get a girl by myself. In fact, this is more of an insult. Trying to hook me up with this screwball is definitely an insult.
And now Annalisa and I are alone.
“So…” she said, drawing out the word waiting for me to start the conversation.
I can tell she really likes me. If only I had the slightest interest in the poor soul. Oh well, play it cool. At the very least maybe she’ll have some hot friends. At the very very very least I might get it on with her. I mean, it’s been a long time since I got my dick wet. But I’m going to need a good amount of alcoholic beverages if I’m going to travel down that path. Yes, yes I will.
“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Megan was trying to get us two alone.” I said, trying to break the awkward silence by making it even more awkward.
“How you know?” she smiled. I fucking knew it. Damn you Megan.
I stared at her and just shook my head. I wanted to get laid tonight. But not like this. She’s drunk and if I did get with her, it wouldn’t mean anything. And by that I mean, not like a relationship or girlfriend or whatever, but I want the sex to have some sort of meaning for me. I wanted to prove to myself that I can conquer my current depressed state. Being given a loose girl who wouldn’t mind getting off on a table leg isn’t the challenge I was seeking to overcome.
That was 10% of the reason why I didn’t want to fuck her. The other 90% is, well I mean, just look at her.
“Hey, you know what? I got to talk to Dylan really quick. I’m going to go try and find him. But it was nice meeting you.” I spoke quickly, trying to wrap up this conversation as fast as possible. I started to walk quickly out of her sight and into the house, until I forgot something fairly important.
After remembering, I turned around and yelled “Oh, and Happy Birthday Lisa!”
SCENE THREE: Here Comes A New Challenger!
Hmm, Happy Birthday Lisa. Wasn’t that on an episode of The Simpsons?
I’m back in the living room. Some random guy saw I had no beer in my hand and decided to offer me a bottle. I thanked him with a head nod. Standing back from the side of the room, I witnessed a bunch of people playing Xbox Kinect, flailing like drowning fish. They’re either trying to bust dance moves or scratch an impossible itch located on the back of their spine. Everyone seemed to be having a good time though, so I can’t fault them for looking like fools I guess.
In the corner of the living room I saw Dylan hugging Megan from behind as they’re both cackling at the stupidity in front of their eyes.
On the other side of the room I saw two couches. One occupied by a group of friends cheering on the lunatics dancing in the middle of the room. The other couch was empty, except for a girl sitting down gazing into her phone. It was Wendy. Hey, I did remember her name!
I’ve got to sit in that spot before some douche decided to take it. But how? What would she think when a stranger randomly sits next to her? Fuck it, just go and do it. But what should I say once I sit there? God fucking damn it, just do it already!
After allowing my conscience to bully me, I decided to walk towards that empty spot on the couch. It felt like a spotlight was shining down on that exact area. Not noticing, I realized I was walking right in front of the TV, disrupting the world’s best dance crew and fucking up their high score. They were yelling at me, reacting with a collective “Aww, what the fuck!” Meh, whatever.
I planted myself on the couch and waited for a reaction from Wendy. She didn’t look up. Whatever she was doing on the phone had her attention.
I mustered up all the courage from my balls and channeled it reversely from my scrotum to my throat, building up a small fireball of words as I finally pulled the trigger. Each letter escaped my mouth like a grandpa on his death bed. It felt as if my introduction would forever be remembered as a historic moment for mankind. As if this was on par with the Vietnam War, 9/11, and allowing gays to marry. Alright I’ll stop, I think you get it.
“…Hi.” I finally said in a sigh of relief. She broke her trance from the phone and lifted her head towards me.
“Hey.” she said, and returned her head back to her phone.
Suddenly, she displayed a slight smile. It was enough to show a small amount of her white teeth. I’m not sure if it was from the sight of me, or if it was from whatever she was reading on her phone. Don’t be so cocky Ryan; of course it was from the phone.
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