Jay Friday
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The Thaumaturge [Chapter 2: A Quick Hookup]
🕑 Added 2024-12-15 15:08:00 +0000 UTCMaybe you think I was stupid for not immediately chasing after this strange interaction. Trying to figure out what was going on. Texting Lauren to demand an explanation.
If so, I'd just remind you: I was young. It was Friday night. I had just gotten my rocks off. My performance been embarrassing. I went to a big school; there would be other girls. There was a summer of light classwork and an easy part-time job ahead of me for the next few months. Life was pretty good. I didn't need to make it more complicated. Didn't need to send the half-apology follow-up text I had sometimes sent after this sort of thing happened to try to get a second chance. Didn't need to know what thaumaturge meant. I wanted to keep my life simple.
It was about to get more complicated, though.
---
"So, dude, you came in pretty late from that date. It go well?" Chris eyed me over a plate stacked high with food, which was rapidly disappearing. He was a big guy, both tall and overweight; he had never played sports to my knowledge, but still had the build of a retired NFL player who had let himself go. He had been my freshman year roommate. A computer science major. Huge nerd, great guy.
"I, uh...yeah, I guess it did." I nodded uncomfortably.
Alyssa hooted. "Ooh, you get laid?"
Chris had pulled in Alyssa and Sam when we decided we wanted to split an apartment three or four ways to keep our rent low. He knew them both from high school -- he had grown up locally, and knew lots of folks who ended up going to school here.
Alyssa was short, with a shock of cropped red hair, pale skin, and more tattoos than I could count. She was an Art major and apprenticing with a local tattoo artist. She had been Chris's friend first, but we had met without me realizing that in one of the Art classes I had taken last year. She was brash, outgoing, fun.
Right now, however, I shrugged, sheepishly. How much detail did I want to get into here?
Alyssa frowned. "C'mon, spill. This is the whole point of having roommates! We all get to talk about our wild weekends, and I know Chris and I were both home all night..." she trailed off, clearly hoping for a salacious story.
I laughed. I liked Alyssa. "I, uh, I mean, yeah, it was a great date. We went back to her place after..."
Chris made a low ooooo sound in between inhaling pancakes.
I continued, opting for diplomatically not kissing and telling. "Anyway, we, uh, did some stuff, but then --"
"You did some stuff? What are you, twelve?" Alyssa interrupted me.
I held up my hands. I had known it wouldn't work. "Okay, okay. She went down on me --" I trailed off as Alyssa gave a congratulatory whoop and high-fived me.
"But then, after we were done, she was, um, texting with a friend and I saw some of the messages. She called me a thaumaturge. Either of you guys heard that? Know if it's like, slang for something?"
They both shook their heads.
"Sounds like, uh, dungeons and dragons stuff. Maybe Harry Potter," Chris mused.
Alyssa just shrugged. "Probably an inside joke with her friends. You must've really rocked her world. You're a sex wizard, 'Arry!"
Chris laughed. I didn't. I definitely had not rocked her world.
Alyssa continued. "You gonna see her again?"
"I dunno. She was hot. I thought we had awesome chemistry."
Alyssa rolled her eyes. "She was hot," she mimicked. "God, men suck. Did you even like her?"
"I mean, yeah, I thought so, but...the texting-with-a-friend right after, the weird slang, kinda threw me. Just...made me uncomfortable."
Alyssa shrugged again. "I mean, can't blame her for talking with friends. What would she think if she knew that you told Chris and I that she went down on you? Kind of crude of you, Matt."
I bit back pointing out that Alyssa was the one who had wanted me to talk about it in the first place...but she had already moved on anyway. She pursed her lips. "Hot, huh? Let's see her profile, then."
I pulled it up. Alyssa swiped through her photos. "Damn, you weren't kidding. She's way hotter than you are, no offense. How'd you pull her? Know her already from a class or something?"
I shook my head, increasingly uncomfortable with the scrutiny this was getting. But Chris and Alyssa were good friends, and honestly, it was confirming my feeling that this had been kind of weird. I pulled up the chat history. Alyssa read through it, openmouthed, and silently passed it to Chris, who just blinked, stunned. "Wow. You were playing on easy mode. This girl wanted to fuck you from the get-go.."
Alyssa laughed. "For real. 'Meet the cat, maybe you'd make her happy?' Ugh. She was gagging for it."
I shrugged uncomfortably, taking my phone back. "Whatever. Okay, your turn, let's hear about your last date."
Alyssa shook her head, primly. "Nah, you and Chris would just be perverts about it."
Chris looked offended. "I would not!"
I shook my head at Alyssa's hypocrisy, sitting back and listening as they bickered. Alyssa and Chris's reactions just confirmed the weird feeling I had. It had been easy. Too easy, for how hot Lauren was; she was way out of my league. It confirmed the feeling that Lauren had some kind of ulterior motive.
Well, I didn't have to talk to her again. I hadn't texted her. I didn't need to.
I went about my day.
---
I got some laundry and errands done, and stopped by the art studio -- I wasn't technically supposed to be using it since I wasn't currently taking any art classes, but there was a lot of leniency shown to students who had taken a class and were planning on taking more. I worked on one of my projects for a few hours and then headed home.
Part of me wanted to just have a quiet night in, after the way things turned out last night. But I was a little worried that if I didn't get back out there, I'd get in my head about the weird interaction with Lauren. I was committed to a summer that was fun. Living it up a bit.
So -- with that in mind, and a sigh of resignation -- I pulled up the dating apps again. It was Saturday. I should at least swipe through some matches.
And then I froze, staring at the very first profile I was presented with.
A bubbly-looking blonde was smiling at me. She was gorgeous. But that wasn't what had stopped me in my tracks. It was the name.
VIVIAN, 22, 5'9".
I stared, weirded out enough that I could feel the hairs on my arm stand up.
Viv. I mean, it had to be, right? I didn't know for sure, but it wasn't exactly a common name, was it?
This was a serious fucking coincidence. (That's what I thought at the time, anyway.)
It was almost enough to make me delete the app. But, after hesitating a long moment, I started flipping through the profile.
She was hot, I decided. Just as hot as Lauren. Maybe hotter.
Blue eyes. Blonde hair. A pretty face that seemed to have a perpetual smirk, a twist in her smile that signaled mischief. Like she had pulled some practical joke on you and was just waiting to see when you'd notice. A photo where she had one hand over her mouth, a look of astonishment on her face as she stared at an elephant at the zoo. Her on a boat, laughing, wearing sunglasses and a strappy blue bikini that showed off a phenomenal set of tits.
And then, the last photo: Vivian, Lauren, and a few other girls, all dressed up as witches for some Halloween party, posing together. Sexy witches, I couldn't help but observe, as I scanned over an array of black tights and short dresses.
Vivian was front and center, wearing a bustier that only barely qualified as a costume. She was looking, suggestively, at the haft of the broomstick she was holding.
The girl immediately to her right was, unquestionably, Lauren, in a short little black dress and pointy witch's hat. I'd recognize those green eyes anywhere.
Yep. This must be Viv. Who Lauren had been texting with.
I screenshotted the photo. I told myself it was evidence that I wasn't fucking crazy, that this was seriously weird.
Now intrigued, and done with the photos, I flipped to Vivian's bio, which read:
Nice to meet you, where you been? // I could show you incredible things // Magic, madness, heaven, sin
I recognized the bio -- lines from a song. I wasn't a fan, but there was no escaping Taylor Swift, and Vivian was hardly the first blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman to use a Taylor Swift lyric in their dating bio.
Vivian's interests were listed as: travel, shopping, music, fashion. She was also a student here; a senior. She also had every box checked in the "looking for" section, just like Lauren: friends, casual, serious, hookup, dating, long-term.
That was it; the whole profile. The app prompted me for a decision: match her, or not?
I hesitated, considering, idly backing up to go through her profile again, looking at the pictures, the bio.
Curiosity warred with caution. Vivian being the very first profile I was presented with was a little too convenient. It felt like a setup...but a setup for what, and by whom, I wasn't sure.
That word. Thaumaturge.
I wavered, trying to decide what to do.
Ultimately, the photos clinched it. Scrolling back through them, seeing that photo of her in the bikini, my libido came down with a tiebreaking vote firmly on the side of curiosity.
I swiped right and matched her.
I mean, who even knew if she'd match me back anyway, right?
---
She matched me back less than an hour later.
Vivian had matched me, but she didn't message me anything, the way that Lauren had. So the ball was in my court. Her bio made it easy enough. I flipped back up and decided to reply directly to the last line: Magic, madness, heaven, sin
Matt: Do we have to do all four of them in that order, or can we skip around a bit?
She replied almost immediately.
Vivian: Omg, which do you want to skip? They're all good!
Matt: I mean madness scares me a little bit lol
Vivian: So you're the type of guy who just wants to get straight to heaven, huh? ;) But a little magic might get us there faster!
I blushed a little, thinking about how fast I had cum for Lauren the night before. I debated mentioning knowing Lauren from one of her photos, but decided against it. Better to do that in person, so I could see her reaction.
Matt: Well, let's meet up and see whether it's madness or magic; then we can decide whether to get to the heaven and sinning. What're you doing tonight?
Vivian: I was gonna go to the party at Dizzy Dog tonight around 8 -- wanna meet up there?
Matt: Sure, sounds fun!
Vivian: Great, it's themed. Check their website. I'll see you there!
That had been...easy. Way too easy. Four messages.
I felt like I had a pretty accurate self-image. I was reasonably attractive. But Vivian sounded and certainly looked like a classic, life-of-the-party, flirty, hot blonde with big tits. Guys must be throwing themselves at her. What was she doing, agreeing to go on a date with me this easily on short notice?
It made me suspicious. The way I'd been suspicious of Lauren, last night.
And also...I sighed, thinking about her choice in venue. Dizzy Dog was the local college bar, huge, with several floors of cheap pitchers, sticky tables, and loud music. Not my favorite vibe. And a themed party? I pulled up their website, which indicated they were doing a theme night every single Saturday this summer. Of course.
Tonight's theme was pool party.
I tried to focus on maybe getting to see Vivian in that bikini.
And maybe getting some answers about her, Lauren...what a thaumaturge was.
---
I showed up at Dizzy Dog wearing a tank top, flip flops, and swim trunks. I was in decent shape and didn't mind showing it off, but shirtless felt excessive. I paid the cover and got inside, looking around for Vivian.
It was a chaotic mess. Undergrads in various creative interpretations of 'pool party' -- women in bikinis, men in speedos, someone wearing full scuba gear, someone else with some pool floaties -- cavorted with each other to some EDM; the bass was loud enough to be rattling my eardrums. Bar staff were handing out daquiri shots and glow-in-the-dark pool noodles, both of which people were waving about excitedly.
There was no way I could find her in this mess. I made my way around the edge of the dance floor, then across the dance floor...
And then she tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned around. Vivian was tall -- shorter than me, but only by an inch or so. Long blonde hair played around her shoulders as she bobbed in time with the music. She gave me a little wave, mouthed hi at me.
I barely noticed. I had, I'll admit it, been hoping she'd be wearing the blue bikini from that photo in her profile.
Her outfit showed off a bit less skin, but I wasn't complaining. She was wearing a skintight, bright red rashguard -- like a surfer might wear, maybe. It was zippered in the front, and was currently unzippered halfway down her stomach, showing off a deep valley of full cleavage. A pair of bikini bottoms in matching red completed the look. She would have fit right in on Baywatch.
She leaned in close to me, and said, right in my ear, so I could hear her over the music, "Hi! Oh my god, you're staring at my tits. C'mon, get it together and dance with me."
Blushing -- hoping my blush wasn't visible in the dim light -- I did.
She was a great dancer. I was not. She didn't seem to mind, laughing delightedly as we danced. I stared as she moved, watching her chest bounce in the top, her long legs twist and flex...fuck, she was hot. I couldn't take my eyes off her. People around us were staring at her, too -- women and men both. I couldn't blame them.
We danced that way for maybe half an hour, before she pulled me off the dance floor to the bar, grinning.
We were both sweaty and breathing heavily. We went to the bar and I ordered us two beers.
The music was still deafening; we were standing close and had to lean in, speaking almost directly into each other's ears, to talk.
"You're a terrible dancer." Her eyes sparkled as she said it.
That put me on my back foot, but I rallied quickly with a rejoinder. Putting as much scolding, mock-outrage in my voice, I said, "Vivian, that is incredibly rude of you."
"First of all, call me Viv. Everyone does. I only get called by my full name when I've done something bad...ooh, am I in trouble?" The delight in her voice was clear, and now she was wearing that same smirk from her profile photos.
I laughed and nodded. "A lot of trouble," I said, my tone mock-serious.
"Oh, good. That's when I'm at my best." She dragged me back out on to the dance floor.
---
This pattern repeated itself several more times over the course of two hours. We'd dance a bit. We'd drink a bit. We'd talk a bit. We'd dance some more.
By the end of it, I have to admit, I was having a great time. Vivian was sarcastic, flirty. Really hot. And it was honestly nice to just cut loose.
It was almost enough to make me forget that tonight, I was the one with an ulterior motive.
Almost.
Finally, we agreed that we'd had enough dancing. We found a hightop table in the corner of the second floor, about as far from a speaker as we could get.
"So, Matt...what do you look for in a girl?" She had mischief in her face.
I could tell what she wanted was some banter, not a serious answer. Thinking quickly, I decided this was the best opportunity to direct the conversation the way I wanted.
"Well, there's one primary criteria: a lot of hot friends for me to sleep with after we break up," I joked, deadpan. "That's what made me swipe on you -- that last photo in your profile, the one of you and all your friends dressed up as witches."
She laughed, nodding, playing along. "Uh huh. I see. You think my friends are hot, then?"
I shrugged. "Yeah. Actually, I think I recognized one of them..." I paused, hoping she'd react somehow.
I wasn't disappointed.
There was a slight, but perceptible shift in her body language. Her eyes narrowed a little. She leaned forward. "Yeah? How? Slept with one of them already?" Her tone was still light, casual. Like she was joking. But the intensity of the question was ratcheted up considerably.
I had expected that question. I kept my answer light. "Oh, nah, in a class last year, I think." I tried to sound uncertain. Then I snapped my fingers. "...Or maybe in the weekly orgy I go to. Even odds of either, really."
She nodded, ignoring the orgy joke. Her tone was still casual, but her body language was practically vibrating, she was so tense. "Mm. Which friend? Which class?"
I shrugged. "Oh, uh, Writing 101 maybe? It was a big lecture hall. The one with the dark hair, who was next to you in the photo, I think."
Trying to keep up the banter, I added, "I don't remember her name. Not sure I ever knew it. It happens sometimes, y'know. With women I meet."
She nodded, relaxing a bit, and smiling again, but didn't laugh. "Ah, okay. Yeah, that's Lauren. A writing class would make sense. She's the bookish sort."
Well, that was confirmation of what I already knew, but not anything new. I decided I could get away with probing a bit further. "Yeah? Are those your sorority sisters, or something?"
She nodded. "Something like that, yeah." I saw her shift, as she realized she was probably being oddly intense about my question. She visibly relaxed, taking a deep breath, and put the mischievous smirk back on her face. "You wouldn't like Lauren, though. She's pretty, but kind of quiet. Boring. Compared to me, I mean."
"I dunno, sometimes the quiet ones surprise you," I noted. I tried to think of a way to get anything else out of her without...well, giving away what I was really interested in.
She arched an eyebrow playfully. "What about the outgoing ones?"
"Sometimes they disappoint you," I quipped. "That's why the hot friends are so important. For rebounds."
She made a pouting face. "Do I look disappointing?"
I opened my mouth to reply, and as I did, she inched the zipper on the front of her rashguard even lower. It was already well below her cleavage -- but this had the effect of letting the front open further, exposing more of her full tits, flawless tanned skin. I stared instead of speaking. God damn.
"I mean, you don't seem disappointed. Maybe you'll be the disappointing one." She was smug.
I blushed, but tried not to let that faze me, and nodded. "I will, for sure. I've told you, after we break up, I'm going to try to sleep with all your friends. It will be incredibly disappointing."
She laughed appreciatively. "Well, that disappointment sounds like it's a ways off. Will we at least have incredible sex until then?"
I hesitated. The truth -- and the funnier answer, I judged -- was probably to tell her no. To joke about how I'd leave her so disappointed that we'd break up immediately, so I could get to her hot friends more quickly, or something.
I didn't say that. Maybe my performance with Lauren making me self-conscious about a joke like that. Maybe I just saw the opportunity. But I decided to take a risk.
I kept the same deadpan, casual tone. "Probably. I am a sex sorcerer. Like, an actual wizard. A thaumaturge, if you will."
Her eyes widened in shock the moment the word thaumaturge came out of my mouth. She was silent for a moment, stunned, and then tried to recover. "O-oh yeah?"
It was obvious I had thrown her off completely. The word meant something. Was important. I knew it.
I felt triumphant, but tried to conceal that, backing off. "Yeah. And hey, look, it was a hot photo. If you ever need...I dunno, entertainment at sorority parties, or something..."
I trailed off uncertainly as she stood up. She grabbed my hand, and started leading me towards the bathrooms.
"We don't really all get together anymore..." she let that hang in the air as we threaded between a few tables.
"...And besides, we don't even know if you can entertain me yet. Let's go find out," she said, over her shoulder, the smirk back on her face. I followed her.
My heart was beating rapidly, and it wasn't just the thought of entertaining her. I realized we were about to be alone. It didn't feel entirely...safe, given how she reacted. But I felt like if I bolted now, she'd know that I knew...
Better to risk it, I thought. Admittedly, her long legs and pert ass in the bikini bottoms as she led me into the hallway helped me feel better about taking the risk.
The hall had a dozen single-occupant restrooms. She found an empty one and led me inside.
---
The door shut and locked, the thumping music finally at least a little muted, she turned and looked at me, that smirk back on her face. "You've been staring at my tits all night long," she said, amused. "Do you like them?"
She was only a few inches away from me in the tiny space. As she spoke, she brought her hands up to them, squeezing them through the rashguard. Mouth dry, watching the shape of her full breasts shift in her hands, I just nodded. I could feel myself getting hard -- I had been turned on for hours flirting with her, and watching her run her hands over her own body immediately ignited my desire.
She dropped to her knees in front of me. "Let's see how much you like them..." she said, seductively. As she spoke, she undid the drawstring on my swim trunks and pulled them down. My cock was probably three-quarters hard already, dangling thick and engorged.
"Mmm," she said, approvingly. She reached out, fondling it with her hands. I let out a sharp intake of breath. She glanced up at me at the sound. "You like them a lot, huh?"
I was rapidly getting rock hard. Fuck, yes. I nodded.
She took my thick length in one hand and slapped the head of my cock a few times against each of her tits. They were soft, full, round.
"A sex sorcerer, huh?" That mischievous smile was back on her face.
I just nodded, again as I stared openmouthed, watching her play with my cock.
Slowly, staring up at me, she nestled my cock in her cleavage. She hadn't removed her rashguard; it helped to push her tits together, creating a deep valley that sheathed my length between them.
"What was that last word you said? Thaumaturge?" There wasn't any idle curiosity in her voice, now. She was all directness. "Where'd you hear that?"
"I dunno...a video game or something? I figured it was just another word for wizard...why, have you heard it before?" I tried to ask the question casually. I was aware that I was potentially on thin ice, but I was having a harder time playing it cool. It was hard to think about anything besides my cock between her tits.
"You know, I think I have heard it before..." she stopped talking for a moment to half-spit, half-drool down onto her own cleavage, directly on my cock.
"Oh yeah? Where have youuu--" I was trying to casually get some more information out of her, but I ended up letting out a moan instead. Using her hands to squeeze them together, Viv worked her tits up and down my length a few times expertly, lubricating it.
Just those few movements were incredible. Her tits were big enough that, pushed together around me, they fully enveloped my cock. Fuck, she was good at this. I wasn't sure how much more I was going to learn; wasn't sure how much more I cared about that right now, anyway.
"You seem like a clever guy, Matt...I wonder why you're interested..." Viv mused. I couldn't see her eyes -- she was still looking down at my cock -- but her lips were curved into a smile.
"I, uh..." I weakly tried to formulate a response, but I was too preoccupied with the sensation of her tits, warm and pillowy, around my cock, to come up with any clever excuses. She had stopped moving, but even holding still, I was having trouble doing anything besides just staring helplessly at those full tits wrapped around my thick length, enjoying the feeling.
And then, with a jolt of embarrassment, I realized that, just like last night, I was far closer to cumming than I'd like. I had been preoccupied with trying to get information out of Viv, but she had my full attention now -- and looking down at this hottie, pushing her big tits together, cocooning my cock, the impending orgasm was starting to loom.
Viv glanced up at me. I don't know what she saw; some expression on my face, maybe, or something in my body language. Whatever it was, she let out a laugh. "Oh my god. You're not, like -- getting close already, are you?"
Her tone -- astonished and amused -- made it so much worse. I felt a surge of humiliation. "N-nah," I muttered. I was trying to get a hold of myself.
She made a tsk-tsk sound. "C'mon, I know you like my tits, but I thought you were a sex wizard. Don't you want to fuck me?"
I did want to fuck her. I nodded. But I also let out a groan, as she slowly slid her tits along my fully lubricated length.
And look, I've gotten titfucked before, okay? But it's generally felt like...well, like I was just kind of getting jerked off onto a girl's tits, or rubbing against them. A handjob-plus, if you will. Sometimes it had been hot, yeah...But this was a completely different experience.
Viv was, in every sense of the word, fucking my cock with her tits.
They were big enough that even when she stroked downward, moving them all the way down my shaft to where I could feel the soft weight of her breasts against the base of my cock and my balls, the head of my cock still wasn't visible.
Well, a few pumps of those big tits up and down my shaft had me teetering right on the brink of a massive orgasm. I stared down at her tits, breathing hard and trying to keep from cumming.
She paused her movements, pouting, now. "I can tell you're close. You know, if you impress me...maybe you can come entertain me and my friends...you seemed quite interested in them..."
Her tone was still teasing, but it had an undercurrent of suspicion to it. I opened my mouth, plastered a quizzical expression on my face, tried to think of something to say.
She cut me off, looking up at me, her smirk cruel, now. "...But I don't think you're going to impress me. I think you're going to cum in no time, Matt."
And then she started titfucking me in earnest. I realized, belatedly, that what she'd been doing up to this point had been a warmup, the prelude, just getting everything lubricated. She picked up the pace, squeezing her tits tighter around me.
The sensation was overwhelming.
I tried to resist, to last longer, to hold things back.
As a result, I lasted for maybe three more seconds of her pumping her tits up and down my cock before I groaned helplessly, overcome by the orgasm.
"Yeah, I figured..." She was looking down at my cock, that wicked smile on her face, as I started cumming.
She kept going, pumping me smoothly between her breasts, squeezing them tight. Her pace was perfect; each up-down movement of her tits pulled another rope of cum out of me. The first few spurts covered her upper chest, her neck; the rest coated the valley of her cleavage and tits.
Eventually, looking satisfied, she sat back, and then stood up, reaching for paper towels. Dazed, I stared at her tits as she moved, watching her clean herself up.
She giggled at the stupefied expression on my face. "God. You're still staring at them."
I tried to gather myself, brought my eyes up to hers. "I, uh...that was...you're..."
She gave me a few attempts at forming words before taking over. "I think you're trying to say that it was fun, Matt. Can I get your number?"
Still dazed, I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, handed it to her, continuing to talk as I did. "Uh...sorry I...y'know, I usually last...longer..."
I trailed off. She was laughing, shaking her head. "You were so articulate earlier. This is adorable. Right. I'm sure this never happens. Maybe you can prove it to me. I'll text you. Let's do it again sometime, thaumaturge." She gave me a little wave.
I reddened. Adorable. She hadn't even needed to take her top off, I realized with a surge of shame -- once she cleaned herself up, she just zipped her rashguard back up a little bit.
Thaumaturge.
I didn't register the last word -- which she'd delivered smoothly, in an amused, teasing tone -- until just after she had slipped out of the bathroom.
It snapped me out of the post-orgasm haze I'd been floating in, and everything rushing back -- Lauren's strange behavior. Viv's answers to my questions.
I opened the door to follow her, but she had vanished into the packed crowds around the dance floor.
---
I looked through the crowd for a while, but didn't see her. I headed home.
As I did, I mulled over what I'd learned. Not much, I reflected, glumly. She was clearly the Viv that Lauren had been texting with. She obviously recognized the word thaumaturge; it was significant in some way. I was no closer to knowing what it meant, but it certainly didn't seem like it was just slang. She had been surprised that I had used the word.
I had to admit that I did seem to have a...stamina problem, with attractive women. Or maybe Lauren and Viv were just amazing in bed. Well...in bed might not be quite right.
Neither of them had even gotten undressed.
I felt a strange mix of frustration, shame, and pride. Lauren and Viv were, definitively, two of the hottest women I had ever been with. I felt like my summer was off to a pretty great start.
I just wished I could figure out what was going on with the two of them.
And last a bit longer.
---
Well, while the hookup hadn't taken that long, all of the dancing had; it was nearly midnight when I got back. I was worried about getting grilled about my date again, but Chris and Alyssa were deeply embroiled in some board game when I got back. I hadn't seen it before, the rules seemed complicated, and they weren't about to stop playing to explain it to me. But we did a round of shots after I walked in the door; I stayed up, drinking, watching, and laughing as the two of them aggressively talked shit with each other, offering color commentary on the proceedings even though I didn't understand the rules. Alyssa eventually won. We all went to bed late.
I didn't know it at the time, but that night -- drinking, staying up late on a Saturday with roommates playing a board game -- was the definitive end of a chapter of normalcy in my life, and the start of something else.
