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The dreaded first year of graduate school was just around the corner. I had no desire for business; my heart wasn’t into it. A year earlier I graduated with an honors degree in English; I simply wanted to write. The only positive was that the college was in sunny California. I had stuck to my guns for four years, plus an additional unsuccessful year of job hunting. My once-untamable passion was quickly subdued by harsh economic realities. For almost five years I rejected the practical guidance of my working-class parents. In the past I had refused to listen to their supposed real world logic.
My name is Eric Willis, for my entire twenty-three years on earth; I’ve lived in my Seattle Suburb. I’ve been on trips and exchanges, but I’ve never had a permanent address outside of Washington State. With that said, moving was both endearing and extremely overwhelming. It was already August and I still hadn’t found a place. Classes would start in just over two weeks.
I procrastinate as much as the next guy, but my lack of lodging for August had nothing to do with a failure of will. You see, the problem was squarely expensive Palo Alto apartments. Two thousand dollars a month was on the super low end for an apartment in Palo Alto and that was if you had a roommate. There was no questioning it; my future town was more than a tad out of reach.
On my fifth attempt at scanning through the off-campus residence directory, a listing struck me. To tell god’s honest truth, it stood out because it was too good to be true. Suspicious is what it really was.
The amount Philip was requesting from his potential roommate was suspiciously miniscule, at two fifty a month; especially for what appeared to be the most in demand section of town.
I should have moved passed it. Nothing good could come of it, right? But, alas, I was option-less. My mind was put to ease after a Skype interview with the Philip’s girlfriend, Jennifer. I thought it odd that his girlfriend conducted the interview. After all it would be me and Philip sharing the apartment. She stated that she lived elsewhere.
I have to admit her striking presence silenced my critical brain. She was focused and confident, with a sultry, polished look. To be clear, I wasn’t checking her out; I was simply observing her.
Jennifer and Philip had been going out over five years now. She was going into her third year of med school, and he was going into his second year of law school. She lived with other med students in an apartment that was a ten-minute drive from my potential new apartment. Chuckling, said. “I’m never there, though,” an indication that I would be seeing a lot of her.
Brushing her long dark brown hair behind her cute ears, she paused before continuing. “You’re probably curious why we had a background check done on you?”
I brushed it off right then and there, but who wouldn’t wonder about a background check?
“After chatting with you, I trust you, but the check was still needed, Philips parents demanded it. I guess you get that Philip is quite well off, right? But do you know who he is?”
“No,” I said thinking how it would be possible for me to know. Was he some sort of celebrity? I asked myself.
“You live in Washington State, so you probably wouldn’t place his last name.”
My mind tried to reach the answer before she delivered it to me. “Morris?” I thought. Then a light bulb went off just as she spoke.
“Philip is the son of Philip Morris, Senior; the two-term Republican governor of California.” I should have been in awe at that moment, but, to be honest, all I felt was incredibly stupid.
She saw my face and knew. “Don’t feel bad. Most people don’t make the connection.”
“It was on the tip of my tongue. It just didn’t come out, I swear.”
She smiled, not believing me one bit, simply giving me a sly look and an unintentionally sexy smile, followed by her reply: “Sure it was. So, you’re okay with that?”
“I don’t know where I stand politically, but I doubt I’m a Republican. Are you okay with that?”
She got all quiet. Leaning in and placing a finger over her bottom lip, she said, “To be honest, neither am I.”
“Philip’s family and mine have always been really close. He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember knowing him. The friendship started when we were enrolled in the same junior prep school. It was grade five. We looked out for each other and we still do.
Jennifer and I talked a while longer, talking less and less about Philip, as I learned more about her and she about me. I told her about my recent breakup with my she-bitch of an ex-girlfriend. With a sort of knowing confidence, she assured me that I would find someone new. We wrapped it up, and that was that. In a week I would be driving my battle-worn Subaru from Seattle to northern California.
College teaches you how to maintain a steady head without sleep. My friends and I had been big on road trips back in college, so these things became a cakewalk for me, especially escort ankara with two packs of Red Bull at hand.
Heading on the interstate, everything came natural to me and Betty my Subaru. Betty was no stranger to California. With my surf boards packed away, Betty made the journey from Seattle to Newport Beach many times during my college years. Having conquered the Southern California road trip’s with my friends, I knew driving to northern California would be a cake walk.
The result being that when I neared Sanfrancisco, I had made what should have been a twelve hour drive in record time and without speeding tickets unlike my first few times driving with my buds. I t only really slowed down on the final leg. The 101 into Palo Alto was under heavy construction, killing the record time I had just hashtaged.
After having arrived in Palo Alto, it was further clear I got the apartment at a steal. Which made less sense as time passed, but I wasn’t complaining. It was a sweet deal for a guy in need.
Philip met me in the lobby. He set out to make me feel right at home right away by helping me move my things in, not that I needed much furniture. The apartment was stacked with all sorts of swag, 3D television sets and designer everything. For a guy who was worth millions and whose dad would most likely be president soon, he was a real chill dude to talk to. When I moved in, I still had more than a week before classes started, so there was a lot of time to; you know, socialize with my peers.
Soon after moving in I received a Facebook message from Jennifer asking how my move went. She apologized for us not having met in person yet. Apparently she was really busy, the same happening to Philip right after I arrived. I wasn’t too concerned. Walking around town was a joy. The girls were flowing a plenty, although none of them came close to matching Jennifer’s level. It was two nights after I moved in that Philip took me to a club in his gun-metal Mercedes SLS. We slid passed the line into the VIP section with celebrity-like ease. There is no way in hell that I could have done that on my own. Saying that doesn’t mean I’m selling myself short.
I considered myself average. With my brown shoulder-length hair, hazel eyes, and flat stomach with a few hard-earned abs, I did well for myself. But I had been in a rut since the she-bitch dumped me.
My height was above average at six-foot-three, which was an inch or two taller than Philip. This was probably our only physical similarity. He had that whole deal of short, blond, hair and blue eyes going for him.
Jennifer and our boy Philip matched perfectly. Speaking of Jennifer, after ten minutes at the club, I finally met her in person. She sauntered in with her sultry pink lips and gave her man a long, deep kiss that left no doubt who she was with.
I sat with them in the VIP lounge with some of their other friends, and Philip ordered bottle service. Peter, who was his bestfriend, challenged me to shots, and I accepted. Pretty soon I was good and juiced.
A cute blonde sat by me. I don’t know if it was the flowing alcohol, but I didn’t wait more than a second before I pounced.
God, I can’t even remember what her name was. We’ll call her Swallows. Really, what was it again? I kid. Her name was . . . Ashley. Right when we got unto the floor, she went wild grinding into me fluidly. I was rigid and ready, alcohol be dammed.
Kissing Ashley revealed two things: She was hungry for a taste of whatever I was serving. Secondly, she had a tongue stud that turned me on more than it should have.
She was wild on the floor, her hands as brazen as her tongue. Soon we were pulling each other off the floor; she seemed to have done this before. She knew what she was doing as she pulled me into the stalls of the female toilets.
With the metallic stall sealed with no concern to privacy, I was pushed against the stall wall. My belt was quickly unbuckled, her greedy fingers wasting little time to cradle my thickening shaft, her untamed tongue teasing my aching member.
She stretched her mouth as she took in my girth. She rocketed her head down and up with rapid suction. Her saliva coted my cock making it slick. The warm, wet joy of her mouth covered my length brining me to the point of explosion with every downward approach. My hand guided her down as close as she could to my balls.
Like if she was bobbing for apples, she kept at it with manic but precise speed, “Fuck, yes,” I exclaimed as jolts of bliss ran through me. Her mouth in its upward approach circling over my cockhead, the tongue stud causing verbal bursts from my lips as my knees buckled.
“Holy fuck!” She took my utterings as her marching orders as her head dove down accepting the bulk of my seed.
She licked everything up and then was up on her feet. We tongued as my right hand dove deep into the ready access awaiting me. My finger’s diving deep into her wet orifice, she moaned for me as I advanced my motions, causing her frame to quiver with every inward mamak escort thrust.
“Hmm,” she moaned.
Just then we heard movement in the bathroom, someone was entering in the stall next to us. The other stalls were beginning to become occupied as well. She giggled, and I laughed. I quickly buckled up my pants and headed back to the booth.
When I got back, Peter and Philip’s other friends were there, but Peter Philip and Jennifer had already departed. Ashley had to go as well, but she quickly gave me her phone number. After Ashley, exited the club Clayton one of Peter and Philip’s friends high fived me. “Dude that bitch was fine, you’re a lucky fucker.” I kept refusing drinks but they kept offering. I kept saying I had to go. I ended staying a little longer, it’s really a miracle I remember anything from that night.
I got home late, dazed as fuck. I woke up in my room with an aching pain running through my head. It was one of the worst hangovers I had ever had. But it was the best night I had in a while. I needed it; I hadn’t gotten my cock sucked since a month before my girlfriend dumped my ass.
I woke up with two massive ragger’s one running through my head and one in my pants. The second one brought on by thinking about the previous night. After twenty minutes of pumping my meat in my shower, I found my relief. I got out of the shower, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen. Jennifer was sitting at the table having heated discussion with Philip that ended abruptly when I entered.
I grabbed cereal and joined the GQ couple.
“So you were on your game last night. Do you even remember her name?” Jennifer asked.
Shamefully I didn’t. At the moment I simply respond with, “ammm.” I grabbed for my phone, attempting to bounce back, but the damage was done.
“Babe, leave him alone. The girl was all over him. He had to be polite. What was Eric going to do, say no to a girl in need?” Philip said with uncontrolled laughter.
“You’re full of it,” she said jokingly.
“I’ve honestly never had a one night stand before. I don’t know how last night happened.”
“Yeah sure,” Jennifer said, knocking me down once more.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I’m not saying that I don’t believe you,” Jennifer said.
“It sounds like you are, baby.” Philip said once again in my defense.
“Okay, okay, I guess I may have misjudged you, but that’s no reason for you guys ganging up on me,” Jennifer said, as she rose from the table, having finished her health-conscious grapefruit. This was just the second time I had seen Jennifer in person. She was at least five-foot-ten with a perfect hourglass form.
Philip left right after breakfast to hang out with Peter, leaving me alone with Jennifer. I left Jennifer to get dressed for my morning jog. I almost canceled it because I still had my hangover.
Before I left the apartment, I heard Jennifer calling to me. I headed upstairs, the apartment being two levels. Upstairs was where Philip’s room was. Sportily clad Jennifer, wearing bright runners and all, stood at the top of the stairs.
“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked.
“No, feel free.”
“Cool.”
As we ran, we talked. She apologized for attacking me earlier. We ended up having along conversation, but deeper than the one we had on Skype. All was well once more.
After that morning, every day following breakfast, Jennifer and I would go running. Actually we ended up spending a lot of time together, while Philip hung out with his best friend, Peter. I thought it was odd how Jennifer clung to me as she did. I had figured she would spend a lot more time at her apartment, but she was over at ours a lot.
I had finally gotten back in touch with Swallows—I mean Ashley. We arranged to have dinner the day before my MBA classes were to start. I woke the morning before the date with a burst of energy and an irremovable smile, because I knew later that afternoon I’d be getting some.
While running with Jennifer in the morning before the date, I told her that I was planning on going out with Ashley. Her response was pretty clear. “Really, you’re going out with that bimbo?”
“One, she’s not a bimbo; two, yes.”
“Do you intend to have a relationship with her?”
“I’ll see how it goes.”
“You’re a guy. You want to have sex. But I know you. You can do better.” After our regular two hours of running, we didn’t hang out like usual. She left to do something and I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about what she said.
It was an hour before the date. I was safely in the confines of my washroom, in the shower with steaming water cascading down from up above. My hair was full of soap, and so were my eyes, causing them to be shut tight. I wasn’t too concerned at the moment about lacking sight and sang away, thinking I was alone.
I was wrong. I heard the door open and shut, and I froze. Opening my eyelids would useless at the moment, because I was blinded by soap. Somehow I was able to find the yenimahalle escort knob and turn the shower off. “What the fuck? Who is in here?” I asked.
“Who do you think it is?” asked clear soft voice. It was Jennifer.
“The fuck; what the fuck are you doing in here?”
She didn’t respond. All I felt was her hand over my body soaping me up. My cock was painfully hard. My heart rate increased exponentially, her fingers freely grazing along my flesh. After a few seconds, my vision returned.
I wanted to just burry my full length into her beautiful tight hole, but I refused to lose control of myself.
“Jennifer, you need to go.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, making her point by tilting her emerald pupils, peering down at my rigid condition.
She was right next to me now. In truth, I was in awe of her presence, while at the same time, I was confused as hell. I was off balance and I wasn’t sure what to say. What I knew was that, if Philip caught us, he would be pissed, the fact is she had a boyfriend this wasn’t right.
“You need to leave. What would Philip say?” She simply chuckled at me and left the shower.
I dried off and walked out of the shower, walking into my room. Draped in only my robe, I had a surprise waiting for me. Philip and a similarly robed Jennifer were both waiting there for me.
Philip was on a couch at the opposite end of my bedroom and Jennifer sitting next to him.
Philip began to speak.
“Look Eric, I’m sorry about how everything went down. We should have explained this a while ago. My dad is the governor, and before that he was a homophobic billionaire business mogul. I’m always in his shadow, and I have always had to meet his requirements and . . .”
Jennifer interjected with something that shook me. “Philip’s gay.”
“Thanks Jennifer,” Philip said with a worried and unpleased look on his face. Jennifer rose to comfort him, while I guided myself to my bed, where I took a much needed seat.
“I don’t get it. How are you gay? This doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, I don’t know how else to explain it, but the fact is only one other person outside this room knows about it. You can’t tell anyone,” Jennifer stated. Philip remained silent.
“Who knows? You need to explain.” My head was stinging.
“Peter knows. That’s because Peter isn’t my best friend; he’s my boyfriend. Jennifer is not my girlfriend she is and always has been my best friend. When I told her I was gay seven years ago, she smiled said she knew. Five years ago during college when people began to wonder why I was avoiding girls, Jennifer made the offer of being my fake girlfriend, I resisted at first but she insisted. The cover proved to not be a waist, after I moved here for Law school. Not only did I have sex, but I fell in love for the first time, to Peter.”
As the reality of Philip’s words sank in, I wondered if this had anything to do with why I got the apartment at the rate I did.
“Philip can never come out. You can never repeat this. I’m sorry I went into the shower the way I did, without telling you the full situation.”
“Of course I won’t tell anybody, but I don’t understand what part I play in all this.”
“Well, you were supposed to be my fuck-buddy,” Jennifer said bluntly.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“That’s why I interviewed you, not Philip. I have needs.”
I looked at them wide eyed as I went for my cell phone. Philip began to have a mini melt down.
“Relax; I’m just calling Ashley to cancel our date. I don’t think it’s going to happen now.”
This move brought a smile to Jennifer’s beautiful pink lips.
Seeing that I was onside, Philip kissed Jennifer on the cheek leaving the room, without a word. Jennifer sauntered over from her chair straddling my waist. “Are you alright with all this?” She asked while her long sexy legs wrapped themselves around my waist.”
“Hell I wanted you from the first day we talked.”
“You’re lying.” She stated with instant rosy cheeks, and an innocent inviting smile.
“Why would I lie?”
“I could believe it if you said, when we met at the club.”
“I’ll prove it.”
“Alright then go ahead prove it.” Jennifer said with a smug, seductive smile.
“You were wearing a baby blue blouse.” Jennifer’s defensive pasture was cracking but she stood firm. But I kept steady onward. “About two minutes in you brushed hair from you left shoulder, and noticed you were wearing Channel earrings.”
Jennifer’s radiant smile was undeniable now, she didn’t utter a word the sexual tension in the air was thick. With once swift movement her robe was released, peacefully drifting toward the floor.
With her body raped around mine, my member began to engorge beyond the need for relief.
Her body gyrated on my member as my tongue entered her eager mouth. We rolled around on the bed until I landed on top of her positioning my cock at her front door; I teased her, knocking my weighty length on the entrance of her wet awaiting pussy.
My tip breaching her hot entranceway sent tingles and a heaviness in my chest, as she dared me to go deeper. With limber ease, she lifted her long, sexy legs beyond my shoulders.
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