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Rated: GC · Fiction · Drama · #2243818
A tale of awakening and addiction

“So, you wanna go do it?”

Uh . . . wait, what!?” My full attention was suddenly focused on the plain, pudgy girl next to me.

I’d only been half listening to Margi and I doubted that she’d meant what I heard. She wasn’t very interesting to talk to and not even all that attractive. Sure, the ‘freshman fifteen’ had added a second D to her cup size, but it had also accentuated her muffin top. And besides that, she was Steve’s girlfriend.

Margi was almost always attached to Steve, the jock who lived two doors down from me in Mullen Hall. I felt a little bit sorry for her because Steve didn’t treat her very well. My opinion was that he was using his good looks and senior status to take advantage of a naive freshman. Still, if Margi was willing to put up with it, then who was I to judge?

My immediate problem was that Steve’s girlfriend seemed to be coming on to me. And Steve was a guy with workout muscles who, truth be told, was kind of intimidating. And he was sitting right there next to the stereo, checking out my record collection as he finished his fourth beer in five minutes.

“Aren’t you with Steve?” I asked her cautiously, wondering if she was trying to make a joke.

“Steve just wants to get drunk. He won’t miss me. C’mon David, Let’s go have some fun.”

“I don’t think I should . . .” I started to object, but Margi cut me off.

“Shh, you can do anything you want,” she said slyly. “I’m going back to Steve’s room. You can meet me there in five minutes. Or not, it’s up to you. Be sure to lock the door behind you.”

She slipped out without further comment and the wheels began to spin round in my head. My freshman year at college had been disappointing girl-wise and the party was stag once Margi left. I didn’t have much experience with women, but I certainly wanted to learn. And I didn’t like the risk of hooking up with Steve’s girlfriend, but beer bravado urged me on.

There were enough guys, beers, and noise that my absence wouldn’t be noticed for a while. My roommate could easily handle the minimal requirements of hosting a dorm-room party. And I had a clever ploy to explain my leaving the festivities.

“Hey Mike, keep an eye on the party,” I told my roommate with a fake grimace. “I’ve got a bad stomach and I need to go to the can for a while.”

Margi was already under the jungle-print comforter on Steve’s bed when I opened the door. He was the kind of guy who actually read Playboy magazine for lifestyle advice. I stood there indecisively for a moment, wondering if I could actually go through with this.

“Lock the door.”

Oh right, the door! I felt a little more secure as I turned around to find Margi sitting up with the comforter raised. She slowly lowered it to reveal that she was naked underneath. I almost popped my cork at the sight of her bare breasts. I could tell that my reaction was feeding her own arousal and I knew that I’d already crossed a line, this was going to happen.

“Come here.”

I didn’t need a second invitation and quickly joined her on the bed. We kissed and she helped me out of my shirt. I’d done enough heavy petting in high school to know where I should nuzzle and what to rub to make Margi purr. It didn’t take long to get her juices flowing and I’d been rock-hard since leaving the party.

“Do you want me?” she whispered in my ear.

“Uh-huh, yeah, I want you,” I mumbled self-consciously.

“Tell me how much you want me!”

“I want you so bad it hurts,” I declared with absolute truthfulness.

“Then put it in me, stud. Fuck me right here in Steve’s bed!”

I’d never heard a woman say something dirty like that and it nearly sent me over the edge. It felt kind of perverse to be with another guy’s girl, but I could tell that it really turned her on. And her arousal turned me on. I was too excited to care about Steve. I’d hit a few triples back in high school, but now I’d finally be sliding into home! Still, my conscience reminded me of all those Sex-Ed classes.

“I . . . I don’t have a condom . . .” I choked out reluctantly.

“It doesn’t matter, just do it. Do it now!”

I almost did myself an injury yanking my pants off. Margi helped guide my inexpert approach and I slipped inside her eager warmth without difficulty. My heart was pounding and I gasped for air as I pumped furiously for all of 15 seconds before losing control. The explosion was both unexpected and all-consuming. The room went dim for a few seconds before I finally started to breathe again.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“I’m sorry, I never did it before . . . I couldn’t help it,” I apologized.

“Was that really your first time? I got your virginity?”

I could tell that she found the idea exciting. Her disappointment turned back into pleasure. I realized that I didn’t know Margi at all. This girl was a whole box of kinks!

“Well, you don’t have to go right away. You can just stay inside a while.”

Margi began to squeeze me with muscles that I didn’t even know existed. I hadn’t softened very much, and her sexy invitation, coupled with my first-time excitement, soon had me ready to go again. I started to make my move, but she surprised me by deftly rolling us over.

“Watch this,” she purred, “I think you’ll like it.”

I lay back in grateful awe as she straddled me and began to bounce up and down. She held a breast in each hand and fingered her nipples while playing ‘pony ride’. Mesmerized by the wanton performance, I was able to hold out for several minutes before coming again. My climactic thrusts finally pushed her over the edge and she collapsed on top of me, shuddering with ecstatic pleasure.

“That was pretty good for a first time,” she murmured approvingly. “You might be a keeper.”

My cheeks flamed red as the reality of the situation hit me. I learned later that the shrinks call it post-coital depression. I felt drained of energy and filled with regret. I was in another guy’s bed, cuddled up with his girlfriend, and we’d just made a slimy mess in his sheets. The feeling of guilt was tremendous and I hadn’t a clue about what to do next. My Sex-Ed classes hadn’t covered the post-intercourse escape. I wanted to run, but how to slip away without offending Margi? Luckily, she took charge once again.

“You should go back to the party,” she yawned, stretching with obvious contentment.

“Yeah, they might be wondering,” I replied with a sense of relief.

“Here, clean yourself up,” she said, handing me some tissues. “I think I’ll stay and take a nap.”

I tried to wipe away the aftermath of our enthusiastic encounter, but it was a poor job at best.

“What about the sheets? Steve is gonna freak.”

“Oh, he won’t notice a little more. We already did it once today. Anyway, his cologne could cover up a dead mouse.”

I suddenly gagged a little as I realized that I’d been getting hints of Steve’s cologne all along.

Wow, this is actually kind of disgusting,” I thought as I gingerly got back into my underwear and tugged at my jeans. My earlier beers had worn off and now I felt like a jerk for having sex with a girl I hardly knew and didn’t even like. I stopped by the bathroom to dab at myself with a wet paper towel and splash some water in my face before heading back to the party. I could hardly believe it when I looked at the clock and saw that only 20 minutes had passed.

“You don’ look so good, man,” slurred Steve when he saw my tousled hair and flushed cheeks.

“Maybe a beer’ll fix ya up,” he offered with a sloppy grin, slapping me on the shoulder.

“Yeah sure, maybe,” I mumbled, unable to look him in the eye.

I nursed a couple of beers and Mike cracked some jokes about ‘taco tummy’, but I couldn’t find my way back into the party mood. Things slowed down after midnight and the guys drifted back to their own rooms earlier than usual. I tossed and turned for a while, worried about what would happen if Steve found out about me and Margi.

I woke up Sunday afternoon and finally showered off the residue of Saturday night. I couldn’t rinse the image of Margi out of my brain, though. The memories were pretty hot. Disgusting of course, and I couldn’t allow it to happen again, but still, pretty hot.

On Monday, Margi was waiting for me outside Sociology 101. Professor Saltiel always gave a deadly dull lecture and his class was right after lunch. As usual, I was woken up by the bustle of students leaving for their next class. My grogginess disappeared instantly when I spotted Margi in her low-cut top, miniskirt and knee-high boots. She wasn’t even an eight, but there was a certain sexuality about her, something slightly trashy, that I found exciting.

I didn’t really have time to talk, but I didn’t want to be rude either. I owed her some measure of civility after what we’d done in Steve’s room. It didn’t occur to me then to wonder how she knew my class schedule.

“Oh hi, Margi. What’s up?”

“Hopefully, you! Come on, there’s a spot by the back stairwell where no one can see us.”

In my mind, I declined her offer, let her down easy, and we parted friends with a shared memory of some really hot sex. But the little head jumped up and overruled my brain. I knew what she was suggesting and I couldn’t help myself. In a world of lampshades and fireflies, Margi was a naked 100-watt bulb. And I was just another moth.

I decided to blow off my next class and go with Margi. We walked around to the back of the building where a thick hedge screened the fire lane from the street. A parking stall reserved for custodial staff was tucked between the stairwell and a strategically placed dumpster.

I couldn’t believe we were actually going to do it outside, and I didn’t have a clue as to how. Margi didn’t hesitate though, stepping up onto the curbing with her back against the brick wall and lifting her skirt. There were no panties to spoil the view. I reached up under her top and cupped her generous breasts. I was already hard enough, but I thought Margi would need some foreplay. I was wrong.

“That feels nice, but I want something even nicer.”

My face was flushed with a combination of excitement and embarrassment, and my clumsy hesitation seemed to be a turn-on for her. I unbuttoned my jeans and inhaled sharply as the cool air flowed over my erection.

“Do you want me?” she teased.

“Yes, I want you,” I whispered nervously.

“Enough to fuck me in a public parking lot?”

Margi intentionally raised her voice to enhance the feeling of risk.

“Tell me how much you want me! Say it out loud!”

“I want you . . . I really want you!” I stammered as loud as I dared.

Margi was obviously loving my discomfort as I stood there with my pants half down. The frustration only made me want her more.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” she insisted.

“I’m going to fuck you in a public parking lot!” I declared emphatically.

“Then do it, stud.”

This time I didn’t need a guide to find my way inside. And the nervous tension over being caught helped me to hold off until Margi clamped tightly around my hardness. My pounding climax was even better than the day of the party. My racing heart thumped in my ears and my legs felt shaky. I staggered and almost fell as I pulled out.

“Mmmm, that felt good. Did you like it?” Margi asked rhetorically.

“My god, that was incredible,” I gasped, hurriedly pulling up my jeans. “But I don’t think I can do this again. My heart can’t take it.”

“Oh yes, you are definitely a keeper,” Margi said with an enigmatic smile.

There were several more encounters over the next week and each was more brazen than the last. Margi would turn up unexpectedly when I was between buildings or even ‘bump into’ me at the A&W burger joint that was just off campus. It made me nervous to be seen together, but she enjoyed the thrill of danger.

The one constant was the ‘script’ I had to follow. She always insisted that I tell her how much I wanted her. And I did, in the heat of the moment. But when my passion was spent, there was nothing left to keep us together. I kept telling myself that this was the last time, especially after an old lady spotted us thrashing around in her back yard gazebo. Luckily, she came after us with a broom instead of calling the police.

I wanted to say no and break it off, but I was an addict. Margi was my connection, and she reveled in her power to make me say yes. One night she appeared at the cafeteria and sat next to me as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The other guys at the table didn’t seem very surprised. Apparently, word had gotten around about Margi moving on. The word had gotten to Steve, too.

I almost panicked when he approached the table and glared at Margi. Their posture suggested an argument, but no words were exchanged. She held steady under his gaze and it was Steve who finally surrendered and looked away. He changed his focus to me and I put my hands up in a defensive gesture, afraid that he might take a swing at me.

“So, you and Margi,” Steve said slowly, like he’d just woken up.

“Uh, yeah . . . I guess.”

He just gave me a wry smile and shook his head.

“You poor, dumb bastard,” he said and turned away.

Margi smiled triumphantly as he walked away and my heart sank as I suddenly realized who had been naïve. Margi had used Steve until his indifference became too boring. Steve had been willing to date Margi in return for sex, but he’d never really wanted her, never been addicted to her like I was. And now Margi was attached to me.

“Give us a few minutes,” Margi grinned at Mike. “we need to celebrate!”

The entire group looked away or down at their plates at this open declaration. My face burned red, but I eagerly followed Margi upstairs for our first time as a ‘couple’. She made a point of leaving the door unlocked, making it obvious that Mike could walk in on us at any time. And, of course, he did, because Margi spent the night. Thank god, I was already sleeping the sleep of the drained when he came in.

In the morning, Mike was understandably annoyed.

“Is this going to be a regular thing?”

“No, no . . . I’m sorry, man. I really can’t handle this. I’m gonna break it off . . . I mean, I hope not,” I wasn’t sure if I was answering Mike or talking to myself. Either way, I was determined to retake control and stop seeing Margi.

“Wanna go to the movies?”

I jumped a little as Margi stepped into my path. I’d been successfully avoiding her for several days and hadn’t seen her waiting for me by the Engineering building. I hadn’t expected to see her on this side of campus.

“I’ve got class, and finals are coming up in a couple of weeks . . . I just really need to study . . .”

“You know those armrests fold up out of the way,” she said suggestively. “We can sit in the back row if you’re feeling shy.”

It took all the willpower I could muster to refuse. I could imagine Margi’s legs spread invitingly in the flickering light of the theater and the little head was screaming yes, yes, yes!

“Some other time,” was the closest I could come to saying no. I hoped it would be enough, that she’d get the message and give up.

Margi gave me a calculating look and turned away. I bit my lip to keep from calling after her. I hoped I wouldn’t see her again. What if she never came back? I still wanted her, but I’d be better off without her, right?

It only took three days for Margi to crash back into my life. That’s how long it takes a letter to travel from campus to my home town.

“So, what’s this about you and Margi? Why haven’t we heard anything about her?”

The telephone call from my mother caught me completely off guard.

“Uh, Margi? How did you know . . .”

“Honestly, how can you be so thoughtless? You should’ve talked to us if you’re thinking about marriage.”

“Marriage!? Who said anything about getting married?”

“Margi sent us the cutest letter, she even asked if she could call me Mom. It’s so sad that she lost her own mother so young, and a father who drinks! It’s a wonder she made it to college at all. I’m glad she has a friend like you. It sounds like she could use a stable influence.”

“But Mom. It’s not like that. We’ve only gone out a few times and I don’t even like her that much . . .”

“Well, why are you seeing her then? I hope you’re not leading her on! I thought we raised you better than that.”

“No Mom, you don’t understand. I tried to break it off and now she’s stalking me.”

“Well, aren’t we full of ourselves. You’d better treat that poor girl right, especially with a baby in the picture.”

“A baby! Mom, there’s no baby!”

My head was spinning. There couldn’t be a baby . . . could there? I had a sick feeling about the times she’d told me not to worry about a condom. No way in hell was I going to marry Margi! It was just a trick. It had to be. I needed to talk to Margi, figure out some way to end this nightmare. How did she even get my parents’ address?

“Mom, I’ll call you later. I’ll figure this out, there’s not going to be a wedding, believe me.”

I suddenly realized that I didn’t even know where Margi lived. Sex was all we had in common and she always initiated the action. I didn’t have her phone number; I didn’t even know what classes she was taking. Was she even enrolled as a student?

Margi let me stew in anxiety for two long, empty days before allowing me to ‘accidentally’ run into her again. I caught a glimpse of her across campus and broke into a frantic run to catch up.

“Margi, we have to talk!” I panted. My shortness of breath took some of the fire out of my indignation.

“What’s this bullshit about a baby? You’re not really pregnant! Are you?”

“This is how you thank me after all I’ve done for you? You just want to walk away like nothing happened? After I’ve given you everything? And what will your mother think if you force me to have an abortion? How will she face all her church friends?”

“An abortion? I’m not . . . I wouldn’t . . . “

“I think an abortion would be best if we can’t be together. And it would explain what happened to your baby. Don’t worry, I’ll write her again and explain everything. I’ll tell her what a shit her dear little David really is, how he uses women and then leaves them to fend for themselves.”

“You can’t . . . that’s not true . . . I never . . . “

A scandal like this would pretty much destroy my mother, she’d be a pariah in our conservative little town. Just the fact that I was having sex at college would be a rich source of church-lady gossip.

“Of course, a love story is so much nicer, don’t you think? And, you never know, I could have a tragic miscarriage that makes me want to postpone the wedding, but only makes you love me more. I saw that exact thing last week on Lifetime. Letters are easy to write and they can say so many things. The choice is yours, David. The question is: do you want me?”

The opening line of our script sent a wave of desire rushing toward my groin. Margi gave me an amused smile as my willpower crumbled. She could see her victory in my eyes.

“Yes, I want you,” I whimpered. And god help me, I did.

I expected to settle back into our usual routine of random, spontaneous hook-ups, but Margi kept raising the stakes. She loved to put us at risk and my fear was her aphrodisiac.

“Ever do it in the back seat?”

Margi was dangling a set of car keys.

“Yeah, I have,” I replied, glossing over the fact that ‘it’ had only been heavy petting.

Her proposal seemed almost tame compared to some of the stuff we’d been up to lately.

“How about in a stolen car?”

“Holy shit, how did you steal a car!?”

“Some people are so careless with their keys,” she said cryptically.

It was a big four-door family sedan, nicer than the one my parents drove. I found out later that it had gone missing from a supermarket parking lot.

“You drive,” Margi insisted.

I could see the proverbial train wreck coming and I desperately wanted to walk away, but not as much as I wanted Margi in that back seat.

“Where to?” was all I said.

I had to give Margi credit. The hilltop was relatively close to campus and it had a great view over the city park below. It was a popular moonlight make-out spot for the local high school kids. We had it almost to ourselves in the early afternoon and I parked as far from the only other car as I could. The guy was busy making love to his burger and barely noticed us. Margi looked pleased that we weren’t alone. The thought of an audience always heightened her thrill.

“Do you want me?”

Margi began her familiar prelude to sex and I played along eagerly. I was soon sprawled across the back bench seat with my pants off, giving Margi another ‘pony ride’.

At some point, our thrashing must have knocked the gearshift into neutral and the car began to roll forward. Margi reacted quickly, throwing open the back door and screaming as she rolled out onto the grass. It took me a couple of seconds to realize what was happening, and then I had some difficulty turning myself over as the car bounced and picked up speed. I was so used to following Margi’s lead that I didn’t even try to stop the car. It might’ve been too late anyway. I was halfway out the door when the car hit the trees.

I woke up to a white ceiling, beige walls, and the unmistakable antiseptic scent of a hospital.

“He’s coming out of it now.”

“David, it’s Mom. Can you hear me David?”

It took a few seconds to focus on the ring of anxious faces. I could see Mom and Dad along with a nurse and a serious looking guy who had to be a doctor.

“Wha . . . happened?” I said groggily.

“You’ve suffered a broken pelvis, young man. We had to go in and use some screws and pins to put you back together. The body cast will keep you in bed for a few weeks, but you should make a full recovery. It could have turned out worse, you were lucky that a witness was there to call 911. He almost certainly saved your life.”

“Is Margi OK?”

“Margi’s just fine David, she’s going to stand by you. She’s such a dear girl. Of course, she’s worried, we all are - joyriding in a stolen car! What were you thinking? We’ve hired a lawyer, so don’t worry about that, he says you’ll probably get off with a suspended sentence and probation. But I just don’t understand, why were your pants off?”

“Not now honey, let's let David rest," my Dad said, giving me a wink. "He’ll have plenty of time later to deal with all the legal stuff.”

I saw Margi again a week later when Mike came to visit me. He and Margi stood arm-in-arm as they made small talk, asking how I felt, complaining about finals, and speculating that I might be able to get a ‘compassionate C’ in my nearly-completed classes.

Margi’s possessive attitude toward Mike came through pretty clearly, but I couldn’t seem to muster any anger or hurt. I’d never really felt anything beyond lust and need. Now, even that seemed to be gone. I wondered idly if she’d told my mom about her 'miscarriage' yet.

“So, you and Margi.”

“Yeah, sorry man, I just couldn’t help myself,” Mike mumbled sheepishly, looking at his shoes. I felt certain that Margi had talked him into coming to the hospital.

I’d been in a bit of a brain fog after my surgery, but I suddenly clicked on a clear memory of setting the emergency brake when Margi and I parked. I thought about how she kept upping the stakes and that scream as she left me in the rolling car. Had it been fear, or something else? The brake lever on the console would have been within easy reach . . .

Margi saw the suspicion develop in my eyes, but she just gave me that same triumphant smile I’d seen when she blew off Steve.

“Mike’s brother is a skydiver,” she remarked casually. “Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“You poor dumb bastard,” I said slowly, like I’d just woken up from a bad dream to find that it wasn’t a dream at all.




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