“The jellyfish. They sting.”



          “I’m glad things are working out for the two of you.”

          “You are?” I asked.

          “I am. She’s a pretty girl and I’ve always thought her attitude reminds me of me.”

          Lisa smiled and I stared at her skeptically. In my mind, there was nothing similar between my self-reliant Alabama girlfriend and this Florida princess who complained about everything.

          “How do you think you’re alike?” I asked.

          “We’re both bitches.”

           I laughed. “You mean she doesn’t put up with people’s bullshit. Yeah…I guess you’re right. I can see that similarity between the two of you.”

          The dark-haired girl made penetrating eye contact with me before bashfully lowering her gaze. Her next words were spoken softly, almost a whisper.

          “But, it makes me wonder…if that was the type of girl you were looking for, then why didn’t anything serious ever happen between us?”

          The conversation had just drifted into dangerous territory. I glanced around the party to make sure no one was paying attention. Allison was talking to Dave on the far side of the living room, two girls were sitting on the other couch, and several pledges were playing a drinking game behind me. Satisfied that no one could hear us, I faced Lisa whose brown eyes were now watching me intensely.

          “Lisa, you know how I feel about you. We talked about this the night we got shot at. Speaking of which, how’s Stacey doing? I don’t see much of her anymore.”

          “She’s good, but don’t change the subject.”

          “What is the subject?”                                    

          “Why things never worked out between us.”

          I shrugged. “Maybe they would have if I hadn’t met Allison. Or maybe it was never meant to be.”

          Lisa paused to formulate her response. She was sitting close enough for me to inhale her sweet scent. Lisa always smelled good. Most rich girls from South Florida do, with their lotions and perfumes and their perfect grooming. Thinking about this made me remember what a pretty little shaved box Lisa had when we showered together in the dorms.          

“Darren,” she asked, “do you ever think you might be dating the wrong girl?” Before I could respond, she quickly added, “And I’m not asking because I think you should be dating me. But if you really wanted to be with Allison, then why would you call me when you’re fighting with her?”

          “I don’t know. Because I was drunk and frustrated.”

          “But we both know you didn’t call me because you wanted dating advice from a friend.”

          “Maybe I called you because I missed talking to a friend.”

          “Well, then that goes back to my question. If I’m someone you enjoy talking to, then why didn’t things work out between us?”

          Clever girl. Clever stubborn girl. I could tell she wasn’t going to let this drop, so I decided to give her a straight answer.

          “Look, Lisa, whenever I showed you interest, you always pulled away. I know you. I know what you want. You like the chase…and now that I have a girlfriend…”

          “That’s not true!” she exclaimed. “I just never knew you were the type of guy to ever want a girlfriend.”

          It was a valid argument. When we were freshmen, I made a name for myself as a player in Salley Hall, so maybe her aloof behavior back then was simply a reaction to that reputation. On the other hand, I could remember many occasions when I entered Lisa’s dorm room and found some new guy sitting on her bed. She never had sex with any of them—she just liked having her little collection of puppy dogs to dote on her with submissive affection. It occurred to me that Lisa probably wanted me now more than ever because I was the puppy dog that had grown up and ran away.

          I shook my head and said, “Lisa, you want to be pursued—not caught.”

          Before she could reply, I stood up and walked to the kitchen sink to pour myself a glass of water. Lisa remained sitting on the couch with a frustrated look on her face. I liked having this power over her and I toyed with the idea of resuming our conversation, but Mickey approached me in the kitchen.

          “Yo, Bryce,” he asked, “why do you even waste your time with that girl?”

          I shrugged. “It’s not wasting time if I don’t have any expectations. I’m not putting work in.”

          He looked at me skeptically. “Come on, Bryce. You’re honestly gonna tell me you don’t want to tap that?”

          “Of course I do. Don’t you?”

          “Yeah, but I’m not gonna cheat on my girlfriend.”

          “I wouldn’t cheat on mine either.”

          “You have before.”

          “Things are different now. I care about Allison.”

          “So then why are you hitting on Lisa?”

I shrugged again. “Just because I want to fuck Lisa doesn’t mean I’m trying to stick my dick in her every time I talk to her.”

          Mickey snorted. “What the hell else would you be talking to her for? Stimulating conversation?”

          “Stimulating visuals,” I replied. “I store away images to use later when I jack off.”

          My friend laughed. “That actually makes sense, but what’s the real reason you won’t cheat on Allison? Because you care about her or because you’re scared she’ll castrate you?”

          I grinned. “I think that’s what Machiavelli meant when he said it’s better to be feared than loved.”

          “What do you mean?”

          “I mean because I fear Allison, there’s more of a chance of you cheating on your girlfriend than me cheating on mine. Fear is more powerful than love.”

          Mickey chuckled. “Yeah…probably. Let’s hit the keg.”

          “I’m not drinking tonight.”

          He frowned. Alpha males always took it personally if you refused to drink with them.   

          “The juice,” I explained. “I don’t want to mix it with alcohol.”

          “It’s bad for your liver or something?”

          “That’s what that big fucker Teto told me. He said he was partying one night and saw blood in his urine.”

          Mickey shrugged. “Come to the keg anyways. You can fill a beer cup and hold it for me.”

          I grabbed my crotch. “Right after you hold this for me while I take a piss.”

          Mickey laughed and walked off towards the keg. I headed to the hallway bathroom. There was a line of girls waiting, so I tried to access Chris D’s private bathroom.

          “It’s locked,” one of the girls told me as I reached for the bedroom doorknob.

“Figures,” I mumbled. “Chris D always locks his door.”

“Who’s Chris D?” she asked.

“The toughest kid at this party,” I replied sarcastically and walked away.

          Ripper and New York Eddie were in the kitchen now and they were talking to Klein.

          “What up, boys?” I asked.

          “What’s going on?” Klein replied. He was a good-looking Jewish kid from Miami with brown hair, brown eyes, and a tall, athletically-lean build that he prettied up metrosexually.

          “Tell me something, Klein,” I asked, “why does your roommate Chris D always lock his door?”

          “Because he doesn’t want us to use his computer and see all the porn he’s downloaded.”

          “Are you serious?”

          “Yeah. The guy is obsessed. He also likes to huff that computer cleaning shit Endust before whacking off.”

          “Wow,” I said. “Anything to intensify the nut, I guess.”

          Eddie snickered. “Yo, if he ejaculates all over the screen, at least he has the Endust ready to clean it up!”

          Klein and I laughed, but Ripper slowly shook his head and said, “I can’t believe Chris D’s huffing. That shit can make you go fucking brain-dead.”

          An ugly brunette approached the kitchen sink to fill her plastic cup with water.

          “What’s huffing?” she asked us curiously.

          “Getting high using household products,” Eddie answered. “You take a wad of paper and soak it in nail polish remover or gasoline. Then you stick it in your mouth.”

          “Gasoline? Eeew!” she replied with a sour face. “And it really works?”

          Eddie shrugged. “Supposedly it gives you a buzz and makes you hallucinate.”

          Her freckled nose curled. “I think that’s gross.”

          As she walked away, Ripper quietly mumbled, “I think your face is gross.”

          Eddie cackled. “I think I’d have to huff something just to hit that!”

          We burst out laughing and continued our discussion of Chris D’s strange behavior. I also kept an eye on the bathroom hallway.

          “Is there a long line back there?” Klein asked.

          “Yeah, a bunch of girls with weak bladders. Why the hell do girls always go to the bathroom together?”

          Klein shrugged. “They probably just want to talk about what guy they like or what girl is wearing an ugly outfit.”

          “Maybe they dike-out in there,” Ripper offered.

          “Hells yeah,” Eddie said. “If I was a hot chick, I’d dike-out all the fucking time.”

          “Fuck that,” Ripper said. “If I was a hot chick, I’d stay home and play with myself in front of a mirror all day long.”

          Moments later when I was finally urinating, I stared around the bathroom and noticed that all the toothbrushes, toothpaste, and shaving creams had been removed. Klein and his roommates were wise not to trust intoxicated college students.

          After a quick booger check in the mirror, I exited the bathroom and nearly stumbled over my girlfriend.

          “What’s up, Baby?” I asked. “Are you having fun?”

           Allison scowled. “I saw you talking to that little bitch.”

          “Who?” I played dumb.

          “Lisa. She still wants you.”

          “But I don’t want her. Besides, the only reason she might want me is because she knows she can’t have me.”

          “I don’t care. If I see her touch you tonight, I’m gonna punch that bitch in the face.”

          I laughed. “She’s already scared of you.”

          “Good. She should be. What were you two talking about?”

          “I don’t know…people…gossip…her little puppy that ran away.” I smiled and playfully added, “It was about as interesting as the conversation we’re having right now.”

          Allison arched her eyebrows. “Oh really? Well, then why don’t you come in here with me and see if I can keep you entertained.”

          Grinning like a schoolboy, I followed her into the bathroom and locked the door behind us. Allison’s hands quickly unzipped my fly and she proceeded to suck me off while she peed.

Dating a sexual freak definitely had its perks, especially if she was dick happy. A dick happy girl was a horny kind of girl who always had her hand down your pants, whenever and wherever she could. This included in the car, at the movies, under the dinner table, and any other public venue she could satisfy her fondling addiction without being observed. For a young college male, there was simply no better type of girl to date than a dick happy girl because she loved her boyfriend’s cock and treated it like her very own pet monster that needed plenty of affection.

          When Allison finished urinating, she continued to blow me until her head bobbing suddenly stopped and she looked up at me with a wicked smile.

“I think that’s enough for now,” she said.

“Bitch,” I replied with a grin.

          My girlfriend buttoned up her jeans and giggled her way out the door. She wanted to tease me, get me hot, and force me to wait until later to be satisfied. What she didn’t know was I was on juice, I was horny, and I needed to blow a load, so I locked the door and searched the bathroom for some lube. Both the medicine cabinet and the cupboard were empty of liquid products.

          “Damn,” I mumbled and stared down at my erection.

          I was about to spit in my hand ghetto style when I remembered the lube of my adolescent years. Ripping back the shower curtain revealed a shiny bottle of shampoo. I grabbed the bottle, slicked myself up, and started jacking off. The first fantasy to pop in my head was of several freshmen girls I saw standing by the keg earlier, but this image was ruined by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

          “Un momento por favor!” I shouted, hoping that Spanish would camouflage the lustful perversion in my voice.

          I put my soapy hand under the faucet to lube things up again and resumed my masturbation. This time I thought about Lisa and her pretty little shaved box and the frustrated look I saw on her face earlier and how bad I wanted to cum on that face and rub my sperm all over her cheeks. When I was ready to shoot my load, I fired away into the bathtub. The puddles of semen looked like jellyfish.

“Fuck,” I said and stared down at my soapy cock which was already starting to itch. I splashed sink water on it and wiped it clean as best I could with toilet paper.

          Smiling a satisfied smile in the mirror, I zipped back up and opened the bathroom door. Two young women were waiting and I gave them an innocent grin.

“Watch out for the stray jellyfish,” I said.

“Watch out for what?” asked one of the girls.

“The jellyfish. They sting.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Nothing,” I replied and walked away chuckling.


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