Baumgartner Generations: Henry

Chapter Two

“I hate football.” Libby was shivering, even in her oversized matching gold and blue scarf and knit hat and mittens, all with the U of M logo on them. She seemed so small sitting next to him.

“You’re cold.” Henry started taking off his jacket for her, but she stopped him, shaking her head and sliding her body closer, as close as she could with the armrest in the way.

“Just put your arm around me,” she urged, teeth chattering. The wind was wicked and Henry happily did as she asked.

“Better?” He smiled when she tucked her head under his chin. He could feel her body already beginning to relax.

“Much.” Her voice was muffled in his jacket. Down below, the band looked like little toy soldiers marching across the field. It was all a big show, the first game of the season.

“So if you hate football…” Henry’s arm tightened around her as they both tried to make themselves as small as possible while a man and his son squeezed by.”Why did you come?”

Libby didn’t say anything for a minute and he wondered if she was going to answer at all when she finally changed the subject and asked, “So, you play hockey?”

“Uh-huh.” In his pocket, Henry’s phone went off for the third time. He’d put it on vibrate, but it still startled them. He ignored it anyway.

She lifted her head and he liked how close she was, how her breath smelled like the cinnamon Trident gum she had been chewing on their walk to the stadium. “Think I could come watch a practice?”

“You like hockey?” She hated football and liked hockey. It had to be a sign.

“Oh I love hockey,” she agreed, snuggling closer again. “I just wish I could afford season tickets.”

“I get two free tickets for every home game. You can have them if you want. Unless my parents are coming or something. Mostly they can’t make the games. It’s too far.”

“I’d like that.” He thought he heard a smile in her voice. The stadium was on its feet now, ready to welcome the home team, but they both stayed put. “So what’s your major, Henry?”

He snorted. “Hockey.”

“Are you good enough to play pro?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. The dream of becoming a professional hockey player was so enormous for him, it was unspeakable. “Maybe.” Now he was desperate to change the subject. “So you didn’t always want to be a librarian?”

“No, I wanted to be an investigative journalist.” Libby clapped her mittened hands as the team burst out onto the field, but Henry didn’t take his arm from around her to do the same.

“What happened to that plan?” He was far more interested in their conversation than the upcoming game. Damn, there went his phone again. He jammed his hand into his pocket to silence the vibration.

She shrugged, leaning forward in her seat now to see, and he didn’t like it when she moved too far away. “Well, for one thing, newspapers are disappearing.”

“There’s always TV.”

She mock-shuddered. “I couldn’t do TV news.”

“Why not? You’re gorgeous. You’d make a great news anchor.” It was true. Of course, she could have made a great anything in that regard-model, actress, whatever. Although Henry thought it would be a waste of her real talents, he also believed someone should bask in her beauty. He selfishly thought it should be him.

“Well thanks for the compliment, but I get tongue tied.” Libby pulled out her cell phone and clicked the camera on, taking a picture of the field. “There, now we can show Dean proof we were here.”

“I bet you could overcome it,” Henry encouraged.

She made a goofy face at him, sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes. It made him laugh. “You haven’t seen me. I freeze up. I stutter. It isn’t pretty.”

“Well, librarians are cool.” He thought whatever she did would be cool.

“So are hockey players.” She turned her attention fully to him, pressing close, her thigh brushing against his. He insanely wished, even though it was only forty-something degrees outside, that they were wearing shorts so he could feel her skin. His phone buzzed again and he swore, taking it out of his pocket.

“Who keeps calling you? Is it your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Henry made sure to say that first. “It’s my mother.”

“Shouldn’t you answer it?”

He clicked silence all with one hand and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. “She just wants to yell at me about my grades.”

“Oh, you have those kinds of parents too.” She had a sad sort of knowing expression in her eyes.

“Actually no.” Henry couldn’t help being fair to his mom. She hardly ever yelled at him about anything, except maybe the time when he was seven and he’d taken his dad’s spray paint from the garage so he could paint the entire lawn blue. He just wanted to play “shark,” he’d told her-and it didn’t look enough like an ocean. Mostly, she was kind and sympathetic and understanding. It drove him crazy. “She’s just worried. She wants to help.”

“Are you going to let her help?” Libby gave him a sly glance.

He shrugged. “She wants to get me a tutor.”

“Hey, that was my suggestion.”

“I know.”

“So what do you have against tutors?” She nudged him in the ribs and he grunted. “Is it a pride thing?”

“I guess.” He pretended to be interested in what was going on down on the field.

“Everybody needs help sometimes.” Libby leaned in to say this, almost whispering. “It doesn’t mean you’re stupid or anything.”

“Gee thanks.” The wind had picked up and he hoped it explained away the redness in his cheeks.

“I’m freezing.” She was shivering again and he pulled her closer, wishing the armrest between them would disappear. The band had started again, the fight song this time, and people were on their feet. At least it blocked the wind.

“Hey, do you think Dean would know if we went back to your room?”

Her words made him stiffen. In more ways than one.

“Probably not.” He tried to sound casual. “He wanted me to take you back there afterwards anyway. He’s got some frat stuff to do first.”

Libby rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Alpha Pi Alpha?”

“That’s the one.”

She made a face. “The worst of them all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but Dean had convinced him it was a great group of guys, that if he pledged, he would have friends for life. “Brothers, “Dean said. That was what convinced Henry. He had an older sister, but he’d always wanted brothers.

“You’re not pledging, are you?” Libby gave him a funny look, frowning.

He loved the way her brow crinkled. Those lines would probably develop into something permanent when she was older. She’d probably hate them and curse them and want to get Botox injections or something. And he thought, if he were lucky enough to still be alive and around when Libby hated those lines, he would love them just as much then as he did right now.

Henry deflected the question. “Why?”

“I did a story for The Michigan Daily about hazing last year,” she told him. “They do some awful stuff to their pledges.”

“Ah hah!” Henry exclaimed, still deflecting. “So you were a reporter!”

“ Were is the optimum word there.” Libby stood and Henry lamented this, scanning her pretty, round face. She held a gold and blue mittened hand out to him and he couldn’t resist. He would have said yes to anything she asked. “Come on, let’s go get warm.”

Libby kept close the whole walk back to the dorm, her arm linked through Henry’s-and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just because she was cold. Bel’s door was open as they went by and he waved from his bed, the TV loud. The game was on, and the cheers of the crowd sounded both on the television and far in the distance, an echo.

“This is better than shivering in the stands!” Libby pulled off her mittens, hat and scarf, shaking her hair out as she left her coat on his bed, already wandering around the room. He threw his coat next to hers, shoving them both over to sit cross-legged on the bed, watching her touch things, pick them up, put them down again.

She explored Henry’s desk this time, marveling at the volume of mini cassette tapes he had there. “Why so many?”

“I record all my lectures.” He grabbed his iPod out of habit, flipping through for something to listen to.

“Whatcha got?” Libby crawled onto the bed and he welcomed her warm weight as she settled herself beside him. “Anything good?”

Without a word, he reached over and opened his desk drawer, pulling out two pairs of headphones. He had a splitter that allowed them both to listen at the same time, and he handed her a pair. She slipped them on just as he hit play.

“The Runaways?” Libby listened, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.

He found it hard to not lean over and kiss her, both because she was so irresistible and because she’d instantly recognized the band. He held his breath as she situated herself with her head in his lap, her long legs stretched out, settling her yellow-and-blue stockinged feet halfway up his wall.

“Awesome,” she murmured, her eyes tilting back to him, and he noticed they were a shade of blue so incredible he was sure the color couldn’t have occurred anywhere in

nature. “Spin me some tunes, Mr. DJ.”

He did, and although he had his own set of headphones on, he wasn’t sure he really heard any of the music he played for her. His senses were otherwise engaged, feeling the silky brush of her hair against his arm, her neck arched over the swell of his thigh, her pulse beating time at the hollow of her soft, pale throat.

He stared at her like a starving man in a prison cell watching a buffet parade by. The way her sweater pulled up when she stretched gave him an astonishing and intoxicating glimpse at the dip of her navel. To Henry, she smelled like rain and sweet corn and fields of poppies, like every good thing he could imagine, and he wanted to lose himself in the experience of her completely.

And that’s just what happened. He forgot everything but Libby. They’d been listening to music and talking for hours when Dean showed up. Libby had her own iPod with her, and they went through each other’s song lists, him poking fun of her Dave Matthews collection and Libby teasing him about owning anything by John Mayer. They’d been so engaged, Henry had almost forgotten he had a roommate.

“Did you see that touchdown?” Dean burst through the door, tossing his jacket at his desk chair. Libby was now sitting next to Henry on his bed, both of them wearing headphones, and they viewed each other guiltily. Neither of them had thought to check the football scores.

“We creamed them! Twenty-eight to nine! Boo-yah!” Dean pumped his fist in the air. “I had four guys on me, and I’m running like this…” Dean squatted low and ran in place, head down. “And this jackhole comes around this side like he’s superman or something, ready to tackle me.” Dean weaved, first left, then right. “And I’m like, I don’t think so!” Dean slammed an invisible football down onto the floor. “Touchdown!”

“Good game.” Henry flipped through his iPod, hitting play.

Libby covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. The song was Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain.”

“You guys saw it, right?”

“Sure,” Libby agreed, sliding her headphones down around her neck. “Great job.”

“Thanks.” Dean flopped down on his bed. Henry saw his eyes narrow when he realized how close the two of them were sitting on the bed. “So uh…you two look cozy.”

“We’ve just been listening to music, waiting for you.” Libby took her headphones off, handing them to Henry.

“Everything go okay at the frat?” Henry turned his iPod off, tossing it aside.

“All set.” Dean’s grin widened. “Pledge week is gonna be a blast.”

“For everyone but the pledges,” Libby muttered, picking invisible fuzz off her sweater.

“Well, I’m glad you like the roommate.” Dean leaned back against the wall, real casual, but Henry heard the edge in his voice. “It’s always good when everyone gets along.”

“Speaking of roommates.” Libby swung her legs off the edge of the bed. “What do you guys say we double with mine? She’s really sweet, very pretty, and she just broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Uh-oh.” Dean rolled his eyes. “On the rebound?”

“I think she just needs to go out and have some fun, you know?”

“There’s a new horror flick playing at the Goodrich,” Henry offered. “ Let Me In. A vampire movie. A real one.”

“As long as they don’t sparkle, I’m there,” Libby insisted, just when Henry thought his estimation of the girl couldn’t have improved.

“Cool! So what’s this girl’s name?” Dean asked. “My man Henry wants to know who he’s going out with, am I right?”

“Um…” Libby froze, her gaze shifting between the two of them. She felt as trapped as he did, Henry realized. What were they supposed to do now? Libby’s mouth turned down in resignation as she gave Dean what he wanted. “Elaine.”

“Oh that’s right.” Dean leaned forward, fingers tented between his knees. “You room with Elaine Litman, don’t you?” He looked at his roommate. “She’s hot, dude. Seriously. She’s got great-” He stopped when Libby gave him a sharp look. “A great personality,” he finished.

“Well, listen, it’s late…” Libby stood stiffly, reaching over Henry for her coat and he froze when the soft swell of her sweatered breast brushed his arm.

“You’re not going?” Dean frowned, standing too.

“I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” Libby smiled a thank-you when Henry handed over her mittens, scarf and hat. “Great game, Dean.”

“Thanks.” He reached for his coat. “I’ll just walk you back to your dorm.”

“No, that’s okay.” Libby pulled on her hat and mittens. “I have to stop by the library to pick up something anyway. I’ll take the bus. I’ll be fine.”

“When do you want to go to the movies?” Henry asked, still sitting on his bed, too aware of the cooling space next to him where her warm body had been. He figured he might as well take advantage of every chance he could get to see her, even if he was playing second fiddle to his roommate.

She visibly brightened, wrapping her scarf around her neck. “How about next Friday?”

“I’ll call you.” Dean opened the door for her and Henry couldn’t help smiling when Libby took the opportunity to pull her scarf up to cover her mouth when Dean leaned in to try and kiss her goodbye.

“All my clothes?” Henry frowned over at Dean, who was already nearly stripped down to his skivvies.

There were maybe thirty of the pledges left now at the end of Greek Week. Those were the only ones who had managed to stick it out to the end, and while Henry was proud he was one of them, he also knew it was mostly because Dean was his roommate. He never would have made it through some of the stuff they’d been forced to do that week without him. He certainly would never have received an invitation otherwise.

“Trust me.”

How many times had Dean said that to him this week? But still, he went along. It was hard to say “no” to Dean Mosher, and not only was it difficult, but you got the feeling it just wasn’t a good idea.

Henry pulled his t-shirt off, shivering. The room was cold. Did they even have the heat on? The other guys were stripping too. They’d gotten used to taking orders this week, he supposed. They’d pretty much done everything that was asked of them, from the simplest things, like learning the history and traditions of the organization and then passing tests (oral exams, mostly, rousted out of bed at two in the morning and answering questions while blindfolded and tied to chairs) to the campus-wide scavenger hunt, where they had to find everything from a fifth of Jack Daniels to used condoms.

It hadn’t been as bad as Henry thought it would be, actually, but that probably had something to do with being Dean’s roommate. He wasn’t one of the pledges who’d had to go to class wearing pink hair bows or diapers. The scariest thing he’d done all week, so far anyway, had been placing a mandatory hundred-dollar bet on an NFL game they had watched together as a group. Thankfully, he’d picked the right team and won. Dean hadn’t been so lucky.

“All right, brothers.” The door behind them opened and Henry slipped his boxers quickly off, wanting to be in compliance before the older members saw him.

The pledges all took an involuntarily step back when the door swung open, whether out of respect or fear, it was hard to tell. The older fraternity members were intimidating, but as far as Henry knew, even in spite of Libby’s warnings, no one had been hurt during Greek Week. They hadn’t even done any forced drinking games, which Henry had fully expected-Dean said they weren’t allowed to anymore. Henry had remembered Libby’s article and wondered if there was a connection between the two.

“Let’s go, gentlemen!” Marcus was the head of the fraternity and another football player-defensive tackle, built like the Titanic. Henry fell in line behind Dean as they all filed out of the room naked, following the enormous back and completely shaved head of their fearless leader. He had an earring in each ear, and Dean secretly called him “Mr. Clean.”

The room they had been in was small, but this one was even smaller. There were two rows of chairs, facing one another, and a TV and a DVD player on a tall cart at the end. Behind each chair was one of their older soon-to-be fraternity brothers. Henry hesitated, seeing the setup over Dean’s shoulder, but there really wasn’t much of a choice as they were directed into the room.

Dean was pushed to the left and Henry to the right, so they ended up in chairs directly across from one another. The folding chairs were plastic, not metal, but they were still incredibly cold and Henry’s balls felt like they were shriveled grapes. At least they were spaced far enough apart that he wasn’t brushing up against the next to him.

“You’ve made it through Hell Week,” Marcus announced.

“Almost,” Henry heard the fraternity brother behind him murmur and then chuckle.

“After Hell Week, you all deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

A murmur went up among the pledges in agreement. Henry glanced over at Dean, eyebrow raised. Were they kidding?

“The kind of brotherhood you are about to enter can’t be explained. It can only be experienced.” Marcus picked up the remote control and pointed it at the television. Henry watched it come to life, but there was no picture on it yet, just a blue screen. He couldn’t imagine what they were going to show them-some video about the history of the frat? Why in the hell did they have to be naked for that?

Marcus was still talking, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard already this week. “You should always be able to trust your frat brother. You should be able to do anything for each other.”

“Or next to each other.” The guy behind him again. Henry felt a hand on his bare shoulder. What in the hell did they have planned? Henry’s sense of foreboding grew as the guy next to him passed him a bowl and whispered, “Take one.” They were full of condoms.

No fucking way, he thought, taking one anyway and passing on the message and the bowl to the pledge next to him. Dean had a condom in his hand and he was trying to suppress a smile, but the other guys looked just as scared as Henry felt. Trust me. That’s what Dean had said. But did Henry really trust his roommate? He’d made a bee-line for the girl Henry liked, and had been close-mouthed all week about the fraternity rituals, although admittedly, Henry had gotten off pretty easy because of Dean. At least so far. Dean kept telling him he was a pledge, too-which was true. But he also obviously had inside information he wasn’t willing to share.

“You’re gonna want to buckle up for safety, boys.” Marcus turned on the DVD and Henry stared as two women appeared-two very naked, very sexy, very lesbian women. They were crawling all over each other, kissing and touching. The blonde wasn’t his type-too busty and fake for his tastes. But the redhead? Oh Jesus, she looked like Libby with all that hair! Her breasts were perfect, a pert handful of flesh, her nipples puffy and pink. And her pussy?

His dick was getting hard. Henry covered his crotch, condom still in hand, trying to keep his boy down, but the girl was so much like Libby, and when the blonde knelt between the redhead’s legs, parting her pussy lips covered in curly red fuzz, the camera zooming in for a close-up, it was a lost cause. Even though he was sitting naked in the middle of a group of guys, his cock wouldn’t obey his “down” command.

“We’re all going to play a game.”

Henry looked reluctantly away from the screen to see that most of his pledge brothers were having the same problem with their dicks. Dean wasn’t even hiding his-and Henry was surprised to find his cock was rather small in stature, maybe six inches-but instead had his hand wrapped around it, stroking idly as he peered up at the screen where the women were rubbing their tits together now and moaning loudly.

Marcus picked up a black bag off the floor, taking out a bottle of KY gel. No way, Henry thought again. Was this going to be some sort of circle jerk? He could only hope-because he didn’t have any sexual inclination toward guys, and there was no way he was going to consent to anything that involved one of his pledge brothers touching his cock. Or doing anything else to him, for that matter.

“Here we go.” Marcus handed a bottle of KY to the first two pledges and they stared across the aisle at each other, eyes wide. He knew both of them, had hung out in Dean’s room with Uri, a big, swarthy Russian guy with a thick accent, and Bel was the skinny geek from the dorm room right next door to them. In spite of the moaning and soft cries of pleasure coming from the television, Henry had found that his cock had finally obeyed his “down” command. Everyone was too anxious to have a hard-on now. Well, almost everyone. Dean was still hard, cock firmly in hand.

“Fasten your seatbelts.” Marcus’s teeth flashed brightly white. “Buckle up, buttercups.” He reached back into the bag. Both guys sat frozen, a condom in one hand, KY in the other. Henry didn’t understand until Marcus pulled two more objects out of the bag. Flashlights? Huh? Were they going to have a masturbation contest in the dark?

“Just in case you thought this was gonna be easy.” Marcus took the end off of the flashlight, but where there should have been a light was…

“What the hell?” The guy on Henry’s right-he couldn’t remember his name. Peter or Phil or…?

“It’s a Fleshlight,” the guy on Henry’s left said. Henry knew his name-Cody. They’d been sitting next to each other during the game Henry and the rest of the pledges had been forced to bet on. Unfortunately Cody, like Dean, had chosen the other team.

“A what?” Henry whispered, thinking he’d mispronounced the word flashlight, but what Marcus was holding in his hand didn’t look like any flashlight he’d ever seen, and then one of the older frat brothers answered the question for all of them because he’d taken out the DVD of the two lesbian women and put in another, more informative one.

“Holy fuck.” That was Phil or Pete or…Pat. His name was Pat, Henry remembered as they all stared at the screen. There was a nearly-nude brunette up there, reclining, legs spread, and she holding the flashlight-looking thing in her hand. With her other hand, she touched the pink flesh-like material, her fingers rubbing oil into the surface, and Henry finally understood, as the scene changed and the woman was on her knees in front of a very well-hung guy, licking his balls and sliding the flashlight-er, Fleshlight — down onto his cock.

“Ohhhhh,” the guy on-screen moaned. “It feels just like the real thing!”

Henry’s dick jumped to life again as he watched the guy decide to compare his new toy with the real thing, putting the brunette on the bed and the Fleshlight just above her pussy. Now it was like he had two cunts to fuck, one real, one synthetic. Henry stared, fascinated, watching the flesh part, wondering what it would feel like, as the brunette fingered first her own pussy and then the fake one.

A collective gasp went up when the guy stuck his cock into the brunette, beginning to fuck her. Then he switched, sliding his dick into the sex toy, fucking it just as hard.

Back and forth it went. The whole room gave a sound of disappointment when Marcus turned off the DVD.

“Get the idea?”

They all got it. There were thirty-two cocks straight up and at-attention in the room. And those, Henry figured, were just the ones they could see. The older frat brothers, standing behind their chairs, were sure to be hard, too. He was just glad this wasn’t going to be some sort of homoerotic test. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay. He just wasn’t, that’s all.

“You two first.” Marcus gestured to the guys in chairs closest to the television. The DVD was being changed again, back to the lesbians. On the screen, the redhead was on the bed, her pussy spread for the blonde’s eager tongue. And Henry thought his cock couldn’t get any harder. Great. At this rate, he’d last about two seconds in that pussy-sleeve before it was all humiliatingly over. But according to the way this game worked, wouldn’t that make him the winner?

Well, at least he understood the condoms now.

The first pair up-so to speak, Henry thought, concealing a smile-was Uri the Russian and Bel. Henry watched his geeky dorm mate struggle to open the condom, tearing it with his teeth, using trembling hands in an attempt to roll it on. Uri was in Henry’s row so it was harder to see him, but he looked down the line to find the Russian already had his condom in place, the KY open and dripping down onto his fat dick. He was more than ready to go.

“The first one to come wins,” Marcus explained. “The brother behind you will be the one to make the call. The first guy to pull his cock out and show us the used condom wins that round.”

“You’ll be going head to head,” Marcus went on. So to speak, Henry thought again, fighting the urge to snicker. He could hear guys whispering back and forth to each other, some of them laughing, nervous, anxious. Excited. “And once we’ve eliminated half of you in the first round, we’ll line up for a second.”

The group collectively murmured in protest. They were expected to go again, so soon after they’d climaxed once? Henry was beginning to understand how this “competition” was going to work.

“There are thirty-two of you.” Marcus handed over one of the Fleshlights to Bel, the other to Uri. “After the first round, we’ll have sixteen. Then eight. Then two.”

“The winner will get that entire box of porn.” Marcus pointed to a cardboard box lined with DVD cases. There had to be hundreds of DVDs in it! “And a Fleshlight.”

The pledges actually cheered.

Then Marcus announced, “The second runner-up will get the other Fleshlight.”

Henry focused on Dean. He was grinning, the head of his cock practically purple as he squeezed it. No wonder he’d been stroking himself this whole time, Henry realized. They were going to go head-to-head, and Dean had a huge competitive streak.

“On your mark.” Marcus gestured to the first pair of guys. “Get set.” Oh, they were set all right. “Go!”

Henry had a feeling Bel was going to win this one. This first round would be easy. It was the second, third and- gulp — fourth rounds that were gonna be tough.

Uri groaned as he shoved the sex toy down on his cock. He acted with practiced ease, eyes half-closed, watching the women on the television screen. They were in a sixty-nine position now, the camera focused on the redhead’s lapping pink tongue, the blonde’s pussy juices smeared all over her cheeks. Henry hoped this DVD was still on when it got to be his turn. All he had to do was see the redhead once with his cock inside that thing and he’d come.

Hell, I might come before I even get into it, he thought, flushing.

“Oh fuck!” Bel cried out as he slid his condom-covered dick into the sleeve, his hand wrapped tight around the Fleshlight’s handle. “Oh my fucking god, it’s sooo tight!”

Across from him, Uri grunted and thrust, but it was already over for Bel. He pulled his lubed-up cock out, the condom end full of his cum, his face twisted in pleasure, legs splayed, his dick still pulsing with his orgasm.

Everyone whooped and crowed, and Uri let out a groan as he came, too, his thigh muscles straining with the effort. He had his condom off and tied and held up in a flash, but it was too late. Bel had already peeled his off.

“The winner!” The fraternity brother behind Bel slapped him on the shoulder.

“Gimme that thing!” The guy next to Bel already had his condom rolled on. Henry didn’t know that guy well at all-he was a scrawny-looking kid with frizzy red hair, his cock jutting up and to the left.

It was on to the next pair. They were going to have to do this how many times? Henry’s cock and balls were aching for release already, and next to him, Pat’s breath was coming fast as he jerked himself off, his eyes moving from the frat guys playing with the sex toys to the women licking each other on the screen.

May not even make it through the first round, Henry mused, and then Pat’s cock exploded. He wasn’t wearing his condom yet and cum spurted like a geyser over his pumping fist as he groaned softly and bucked up in his chair.

“Whoops!” The frat brother standing behind Pat’s chair laughed. “We’ve got a disqualification!”

“Sorry, dude, you’re out!” Marcus announced.

Henry gulped as Pat stood, grinning sheepishly, cum still dripping down his thigh as he wobbled toward the door, following Uri. Henry’s balls felt tight, no longer cold against the surface of the chair, but contracted and practically boiling. Still, he didn’t want to go off too soon. He really wanted to try that thing. The next pair was already at it, the redhead across the way pumping his freckled fist, his hand and the toy a blur, but in Henry’s row it was clearly already over from the sound of the moaning and groaning at the end of the line.

He’d only had the pleasure of experiencing the inside of a real pussy once, last summer. It was just a brief thing, but it had been beyond description. His hand, even a girl’s mouth, was nothing in comparison. He was probably no more obsessed than any other guy out there, he supposed, but although he hadn’t had the opportunity before or since, he couldn’t get the memory out of his mind of the slick, velvet feel of her pussy wrapped around his cock no matter what he did.

Not that he tried very hard to forget. In fact, mostly he spent his time fantasizing, trying to remember the hot hug of her cunt, the sweet taste of her mouth and the feel of her breath against his face as she came, the grip of her thighs, the sway of her breasts.

Henry squeezed his aching cock, seeing pre-cum leaking from the tip, and took a long, deep, shuddering breath. Hold on, Henry. Hold on. He wanted to fuck a pussy again, even if it was a fake one. Maybe if I just close my eyes, he thought, block out one of my senses. He heard another cheer go up. Another round down. He heard the other pledges, some of them breathing hard, some of them chanting, “Go go go!” He could also hear the soft moans of the women in the porn movie. Just the sound of the two of them was maddening! And thinking about the redhead on the DVD made him think of Libby, and the thought of Libby was more than enough to push him to the edge.

He couldn’t count how many times he’d jerked off the past two weeks thinking about her. Although that was probably a good thing. Maybe it would give him an advantage in tonight’s competition! He’d always been surprisingly good at getting hard again soon after an orgasm.

Henry heard a huge groan from his row and knew another round was over. He opened his eyes and saw another pledge disqualifying himself, his cock twitching, his balls tight and red as tomatoes as he came all over his naked belly. Henry and Dean were second to last. Fuck, he was never going to make it. Henry closed his eyes again, trying to think of anything but pussy. Baseball averages. Crap, he didn’t know any. States? He could name all fifty states in alphabetical order.

Alaska, Alabama, Arkansas… oh wait, Alaska came after Alabama. Was there anything before Alabama? His cock ached so bad it almost hurt. He didn’t dare touch it. It throbbed against the chair, the tip hanging over the edge, literally dripping pre-cum onto the tile. Probably picked this room because it didn’t have carpet, he realized. Just in case. To his right, someone else went off, someone not even holding the toy yet. They were popping like balloons too close to a light bulb now, excited into bursting, one after the other.

Alabama, Arkansas, Alaska… there was another “A” state. He was sure of it. He had a fantastic memory. Only two chairs away now. He could actually hear the sound of it, the wet sucking noise it made when it went down on the guy’s dick. Next in line beside him, last in line, was Cody. He panted, holding onto his cock for dear life. Henry clenched his ass muscles tight, daring a peep over to his right. Pat was gone, so he had a clear view of the guy who had the toy, the strained muscles in his forearm, a tribal tattoo flexing with his motion, as he manipulated the Fleshlight up and down on his dick. His hips began to thrust and Henry heard him whisper, “Ahhh that tight fucking hole!”

Oh no. Henry grabbed his cock, squeezing hard as the guy beside him grunted and thrust, his eyes rolling back as he came. Across from him, like a mirror image, another guy had a Fleshlight flying up and down his cock, riding it hard. He was close, but not close enough. Alas…Alab…wha… Henry couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to come and come and come.

“Winner!”

The guy next to him held up his full condom triumphantly, turning to hand Henry the Fleshlight. “Careful, this thing is fucking lethal!”

Arizona! Ari-fucking-zona! That was it! Henry tore open his condom, rolling it down over the mushroom head of his dick, shivering at the sensation. Across from him, Dean was doing the same thing, sheathing his cock and positioning the toy just above it.

I can do this, Henry told himself, seeing the toy for the first time up close. Its resemblance to a real pussy was remarkable. It even had a tiny clit!

“On your mark…” Marcus was already starting them off and Henry was practically finished. He gazed over at Dean and saw that expression, that “I’m going to wipe the floor with you” look on his face. His roommate was ultra-competitive. Henry steeled himself, slowly rubbing the toy’s slit back and forth over the head of his dick. Thank god for the condom or that alone would have done it. He didn’t need any of the KY. The thing was plenty slick already.

“Get set…” The excitement in the room was palpable. Some of the guys who had gone once were clearly ready to go again. How long had it been? He’d lost track of time, of space, of anything. He was pure sensation, pure animal drive and instinct. If it had been a real woman in front of him and not a sex toy, he would have grabbed her and fucked her senseless.

“Go!”

Henry gasped when he slid the sleeve down, his cock aiming like an arrow, burying itself deep. Just like a pussy — oh god, the memory, the sensation, it enveloped him completely.

Around him the voices started chanting. It had changed from “go go go!” to “come come come!” and he was seconds, milliseconds, from that point.

Libby, he thought, turning his head and seeing that the lesbians were still thankfully at it on the DVD, moaning and sucking at each other’s clits, but a man had joined them now, and he was fucking the redhead, giving it to her from behind so hard she cried out with every thrust.

Oh god, Libby. He wished it was her, her pussy, her little clit rubbing against his pubic bone, grinding into him-the sensation was just perfect if he closed his eyes. He was fucking her, letting her ride his cock, her hair falling around him like a fiery curtain, and he was going to come.

“Oh fuck! Fuck!” He heard Dean, the catch in his throat, and he knew the sound already, had heard it in the middle of the night, the shuttling of Dean’s hand up and down his shaft, trying to be quiet while he jerked off, but that catch in his breath meant he was close. Very close. He was going to come, too.

Henry groaned, closed his eyes and grabbed the toy in both hands, thrusting up and fucking Libby’s sweet little cunt. He was going to come up inside of her, fill her wet pussy with every bit of his cum, but it wasn’t his fantasy image of her breasts bouncing or her sweet wet cunt that did it for him-it was her navel, the soft dip of her belly button, the memory of that swath of skin exposed when she stretched.

“Now!” Henry announced, slamming the toy down against his crotch, feeling the first blast of his cum filling the end of the condom in a hot, wet flood. The crowd howled in satisfaction, but across from him, Dean was groaning and thrusting, coming-damnit, he was coming, too! Henry hadn’t had nearly long enough with this toy, and now that he’d experienced it, he didn’t just want more of it, he wanted to own it.

Mine. It was a primal thought, and he did the opposite of what was instinctive. Instead of thrusting, thrusting, thrusting-emptying himself into the wet sleeve wrapped around his cock-he withdrew, still coming, his cock smacking wetly against the chair, the condom still filling with the aftermath of his orgasm. If he hadn’t done that, Dean would have won for sure.

He tossed the toy onto the chair beside him, grabbed the end of the condom, slipped a finger under an edge to break the suction, and pulled.

“Winner!” He heard it, they all did, two words spoken at the exact same time, the frat guy standing behind Dean and the guy behind Henry.

“We have a tie!” Marcus announced.

Henry panted, the world still swimming, his ears ringing as he tied the condom and tossed it into the garbage pail being passed to him. Then he reached over and handed the Fleshlight to Cody, who wasn’t even going to get a chance to use it in this round because the guy across from him had already disqualified himself. So many guys had gotten off without even getting a chance to try out the sex toy that there were only eight of them in the second round instead of sixteen.

Henry took a long swig from the water bottle offered to him by one of the older frat guys, feeling like Rocky between rounds. He got up as they rearranged the chairs down to eight-just four guys on each side. The rest of the pledges and frat guys surrounded them in a semi-circle, though they all left a clear view to the porn. Now the question was…could any of them get it up again?