House Fire

My friend and next-door-neighbor at college, Gael, is pledging for a fraternity, and he’s dedicated to the process. The only things he’s been yapping about this semester are his pledge tasks and the guys in his brotherhood. “They made me do a keg stand last night!” he informed me one day, “I drank half of the keg, and because I drank half without puking, they told me I don’t have to clean up the house today!” I don’t understand why he puts himself through such torture, but I listen without objecting, because he’s happy, and I love it when he’s happy.  

Another thing about Gael: he has a girlfriend named Samantha—blonde, skinny, tan, your typical beauty queen. She goes to an ivy league school an hour away from our university but acts like she's a plane ride away. I hear her complaining to Gael on the phone through the wall he and I share. 

“I can’t see you this weekend,” she says every week, “you know how expensive gas is.” 

“I can pay for your gas, babe. Just come down. We haven’t seen each other in a month. I want to see your face,” he pleads.

“We’ll see.” After these conversations, they resort to phone sex. I don’t hear much of Samantha’s fantasies on the phone, but I hear Gael’s loud and clear. 

“I’d handcuff you to the bed and make love to you long and hard,” he says. “Would you like that, babe?” he whispers, his voice husky and deep. I can’t hear Samantha’s responses, but I know what I would say... When their phone calls end, he leaves his room and knocks on my door. 

“I think I need to break up with Sam,” he says instantly when I open the door. His blonde head falls forward onto my shoulder. I don’t know why, but I always feel a rush of excitement in these moments. Is it because I’m witnessing the drama of a crumbling relationship? Or is it because I smell Gael’s sweet breath on my neck? Either way, I swallow my feelings down and rub his back.  

“Whatever you feel is right.” 

But he doesn’t break up with her. Weeks pass without a visit from Samantha—the relationship stands like the leaning Tower of Pisa. “I don’t mean to pry, but why are you still with Sam? Weren’t you thinking of breaking up with her?” I ask Gael during our walk back from class.    

He shrugs and gives me the usual reply. “We really like each other, and that’s enough to keep our relationship going. I’m sure we'll see each other a lot more in the summer. Right now is just a little crazy.” 

“Do you really think the connection will get better?” 

Gael swallows. His face darkens for a moment, then relaxes. He bumps hips with me and squeezes my arm, squeezes it long enough for me to think of other places where I could be squeezed. “I’m positive.” 

Excuses upon excuses. Of course, months roll by, and all of the frats are throwing their annual date parties. I don’t ask Gael if Samantha’s coming to his date party. I already know the answer. 

“I can ask my girlfriends if one of them would like to go with you,” I suggest two weeks before the party. We’re in our dormitory lounge, sitting on the floor watching Scott Pilgrim vs. the World on my laptop. “They won’t try anything funny with you. They know you’re taken.” 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just tell the guys that I have a family obligation. I haven’t missed an event so far.” A moment of silence passes between us, then Gael pauses the movie and runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I just don’t understand why Sam can’t come. The party’s on a Saturday night.” 

I nod my head. That’s the only thing I can do when he talks about her—nod my head. It’s one thing not to visit your boyfriend on regular weekends. But this? This is important. It’s called a date party for a reason. If Sam’s refusing to come to this event, their relationship really is a clown show. Poor Gael. He deserves someone better, someone who’s present, someone who he can love without restrictions. There has to be someone on campus who matches those standards. A sorority girl. A classmate.   

A friend.

Suddenly, Gael’s eyes grow wide. His head rises to meet my gaze. “Victoria?” 

I furrow my eyebrows at him. “Yeah?” 

“Be my date.” 

My heart drops. Date? A wild laugh escapes my throat and I jump up off the floor. “Gael, no.” 

“Why not? It would be fun!”

I shake my head repeatedly.“It would be inappropriate.” 

Gael rises to his feet. “What are you talking about? Victoria, please, I’m begging you. We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah?” I say slowly.  

“Friends help each other. I need your help now.” 

I throw my hands in the air. “I’d only embarrass you. I don’t even have a dress.” 

“You won’t embarrass me. Just stay for an hour. Don’t worry about looking fancy. Please. It’d save me a lot of trouble.” 

I rub my face and groan. People are going to suspect we are something, and I don’t know how to take that. I glance back at Gael, who’s giving me puppy eyes and quivering his lower lip. He needs me badly. 

“You really need me, don’t you?” 

Gael nods his head. “More than you know, Vick.” 

More than you know. Those words echo in my mind, weakening my willpower. I have to go with him. He’s my friend, probably my best friend, and the thought of him alone in his dorm on a Saturday night is excruciating to ponder. It also feels good to be needed by someone you love.. 

“Would your girlfriend mind if I came with you?” I squeak. 

Gael chuckles. “As long as I don’t post us together.” 

I trill my lips. “Fine,” I reply.  

“Yes!” Gael claps his hands together. “It’s a date!”

“Don’t call it that.” 

“You won’t regret this.” 

“Too late.” 

Gael pulls me in for a hug. “Thank you, Vick.” He embraces me like a boa constrictor, pressing me against his broad, hard chest. He’s a good hugger. A very good hugger. The few times we hug, I’m always reminded of how big his hands are on my back, and how sweet his nutmeg-smelling cologne is on his clothes. His touch and smell is intoxicating. They generate a fire in my chest and pussy, a heat that shoots fear into my system. I have to pull away.

I let out a half-suppressed-laugh. “Let me know what color your suit is. Maybe we can try and match at this thing.” 

~~~

I manage to steal a backless, black cocktail dress from my roommate’s closet. The dress is extra small and slim-fitting, accentuating my breasts and hips, hugging my body in all the right places. It even makes my ass look rounder. I spin in front of my roommate’s mirror and vogue at  my Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animal slouching on my bed. I’m more than hot tonight. I’m a walking house fire. 

A knock at the door interrupts my dancing.  

“Coming!” I shout. I run to the door and crack it open. Gael’s standing in the hallway wearing a black button down shirt and gray dress pants. His curly hair is wet and slicked back, a drastic change compared to his usual frizzy hairdo. He's holding a coal-black tie in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. 

His cheeks turn red. “Sorry, are you still getting ready?” 

“Nope, I just finished.” I glance down at the alcohol. “You got a present for me?” 

“Figured we could loosen up before the party with some Titos.” 

I smile. “Good thinking. Come on in.” 

He enters the room and whistles. “You look nice.” 

I look down at my dress. “Is it too much? I don’t wear anything like this—” 

“You look great. Have a drink.” He opens the bottle of vodka and hands it to me. I take a sip without hesitating. A violent, burning cough sneaks up my throat, but I manage to swallow it down before it comes out. I put the alcohol on my desk and wipe my mouth with my wrist.  

“Thank you. You look great, too,” I choke. “Do you need help with your tie?” 

“Yes, please.” 

I take his tie and wrap it around his neck. Cross, wrap, pull, loop up, cross… my brain repeats as I wrestle with the material. As my fingers work, my eyes crawl up Gael’s cleanly-shaven neck and jawline. A whiff of Old Spice hits my nostrils; my favorite scent. 

“Nice shave. You clean up well,” I say. 

“You approve?” 

“It’s a good look.”

“Do you prefer guys with beards or no beards?” 

I scowl at his Adam’s apple, refusing to make eye-contact. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I’m just curious. You never talk about your type.” 

I inhale deeply. “No beards. They get in the way of… things.” 

“What things?” Gael smirks.   

“Y’know. Kissing.”

“Just kissing?”

I drive a finger into his chest. “Don’t fuck with me right now.”   

He snickers and slaps my hand away. “Alright, alright! Chill!”  

I pull his tie down and straighten it out. “There. All done.” I step back and admire Gael’s appearance. He sarcastically spins around the room. 

“You’re all set. All I have to do is straighten my hair.” 

“Don’t straighten your hair.” He takes a swig of vodka. “I like your hair wavy and natural.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. It’s you.” 

My heart swells. 

Gael slams the bottle down on the desk and pulls his broad shoulders back, puffing out his chest. One of his shirt buttons pops off, revealing his chest, but I don’t say anything. He looks even more handsome with his chest exposed. “Are you ready?”

I nod wordlessly. 

He extends his arm out for me to loop my arm around his. “Let’s go, then, Cinderella.”       

~~~

“You must be Sam?” Gael’s frat big brother, Jonathan, shakes my hand. Gael and I are sitting on a black leather couch in the corner of the fraternity house living room. Next to me, a couple guys are smoking joints, blowing smoke in my face. A few minutes ago, they asked me if I’d like to join them in a threesome. I respectfully declined.  

I grip the edge of my dress. “Um—” 

“This is Victoria,” Gael says, “she lives in the dorm next to me. We’re friends.” 

“Oh, no way! So what? Sam couldn’t make it out tonight?”  

Oh boy. 

“Yeah, unfortunately, she has to study for a test.”

“Gotchya, gotchya. Well, nice meeting you, Vick. I’ll see you around, Gael.” Jonathan pats Gael’s arm and whispers something in his ear, something I can’t make out over the loud rap music. Jonathan leaves, and as soon as he does, I pinch Gael’s arm. 

He flinches. “Ow!” 

“What did he say?” I hiss. 

“Nothing! Just a joke. A stupid joke.” 

“Tell me the joke.”   

“You wouldn’t like it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because… it’s a joke I can’t say outside the brotherhood. Our code, y’know.” 

I slump back on the couch without looking at him. “Sure.” I can’t help but think that I’m part of their joke somehow.  

Seconds later, the music stops. My eyes dart to the DJ booth across the room. The DJ, a super senior with long, blonde hair, a goatee, and dragon tattoos riding up his arms, gets up on his platform and shouts, “This is for the couples tonight!”  

He blasts “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna. The acoustics boom in our ears, prompting the brothers and their dates to dance in the middle of the room. Some sway together, some grind on each other, some aggressively make out, some migrate upstairs to do more than that. But their eyes express the same things: hunger and want. And as I watch them all at the edge of my seat, I catch myself swimming in those feelings, too. I’m hungry for touch, and I want to be seen and loved by a man. Is that too much to ask? 

From the corner of my eye, I notice Gael staring at me in the darkness. “What?” I smile. He suddenly gets up and pulls me off the couch. “C’mon, Cinderella. Let’s dance.”

My feet turn into bricks. “I’d like to, but—”

“But what? Let’s have one dance. Just one.” 

I glance down at the floor. “It doesn’t feel right.” That’s the only thing I say. Gael’s face turns to stone. He inches closer to me and bends down to meet my eyes. 

“Sam chose not to come here. She chose not to be with me tonight. And I’m okay with that. I really am.”  

I look up at him. 

“I know you’re holding yourself back for my sake. Don’t. I want us to have fun.” He takes my hand, and my feet start to shuffle across the floor. “I want you to have fun, let loose for a while. You deserve it.” He guides me to the middle of the room. “We deserve it.” Surrounded by intoxicated couples, Gael beckons to me with one finger. I do as he says. I get so close to him that the tips of our shoes touch. 

“Can I wrap my arms around your neck?” I ask meekly. 

Gael grabs my wrists and drapes my arms over his shoulders. “Of course. Can I put my hands on your hips?” 

I smirk. “You may.” He does as he says, and we start to sway along to Rihanna’s sexy lyrics. The fire, the heat I can’t bring myself to explore, in my chest and pussy rises again, but I don’t fight it. Not this time. Instead, I let it sit in me. I don’t interact with it in my head. I just let it be. I wrap my arms around Gael’s neck and press myself against him, feeling every muscle and curve in his body, burying my face in his shoulder. He doesn’t mutter a word about this sudden affection, but I know he’s okay with it because he strokes my hair in return, tracing his fingers up-and-down my back. A warm, tingling sensation travels across my body, and all I can do is bite my smiling lips. 

An eternity in heaven later, a brother in a tuxedo bumps into us with a tray of peach schnapps shots. “Want one?” he asks us. 

We nod in unison. “Make that two, please,” I say. We both seize a shot and bring it to each other’s lips. 

“To us?” he toasts. 

I curl my lips around his glass. “To us.”

~~~

After two hours and five shots of peach schnapps, Gael and I are in the upstairs bathroom, tipsy and dizzy from running around the house. The bathroom’s cramped, with barely any space to sit up or down on the toilet. When we shut the door, our bodies smoosh together like two pairs of lips. I burst out laughing. 

“Shhh!” Gael puts a finger to my mouth. “We’ll get caught!”  

“Why are we here?” I giggle.   

“I gotta piss.” 

“Oh, God.”  

He turns his back to me and unzips his fly. “I thought we could have our own party in here.”   

I don’t ask him what he means by that. Instead, I hoist my ass up into the sink and watch him do his business with heavy eyes.          

“What was Jonathan’s joke?” I randomly ask.   

“Do you really want to hear it?” he says as he pees. 

“Really bad.” 

He sighs. “It wasn’t a joke. Jonathan said I should… be with you instead of Sam. He said you’re prettier than her.” 

I bang my head against the mirror. “That’s very nice of him to say, I guess.” 

“He’s right, y’know. You are pretty.” 

“Fucking liar.” 

He finishes peeing. “You think I’m lying?” He turns to face me. I look down at his pants, and my breath hitches in my throat. His dick is out, fully exposed and massive. He has one of those long dicks that curve upward like a banana. The sight does more than warm my insides: it makes my pussy throb. 

My mouth barely opens before Gael is towering over me, putting his hands on the edge of the sink, analyzing me. His plump lips are red and glistening like sliced apples. They look delectable in the light. 

His blue eyes close. “Sam isn’t good for me.” 

“You think?” I whisper.

“I know who is, though.” His eyes flutter open, full of hunger and want. I lean into him, and in a flash, he’s kissing me, parting my lips with his hot tongue. It’s an aggressive kiss, one that makes me fall over and forget everyone and everything, including his girlfriend. But his hands on my hips keep me steady. A deep moan of approval resonates in my throat, and I tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to me so that I taste nothing but him and peach schnapps.  

He pulls away, cupping my face with his hands.“I’ve wanted you,” he breathlessly whispers.

I trail my tongue along his lips, his chin, his jawline, up and down his neck. His skin tastes salty like the beach. Delicious. “Me too,” I gasp. Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long. As we devour each other, my eyes dart down to his exposed cock. It’s hard and erect now, looking up at me like a puppy begging for bellyrubs. Before I can even think, I let go of Gael’s shirt and grip his dick. A low, pleasurable growl rumbles in his chest.

“Vick,” he laughs, “you’re wild.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” I giggle, slowly sliding my hand up and down his shaft, kissing his neck as I work. 

Gael moans in my ear, making my pussy wet. “Not at all.” His dick thumps and slowly fills with cum in my palm. But he doesn’t let me touch him too long. He takes my hands and presses them firmly against the mirror over my head, restraining me. He plants a kiss behind my ear. 

“Let me make you feel good,” he says. I smile like a fool. His hands travel down my legs and dip beneath my dress, greedily exploring my naked thighs and spreading them apart, grabbing them hard.   

Gael’s blue eyes study mine. “Can I touch you… down there?”

“Yes, please,” I nod enthusiastically. Without delay, his large fingers hook the waistband of my cotton underwear, pulling them down and off. He throws my panties onto the floor and bends down to meet my pussy face-to-face. 

He starts kissing the skin below my belly button although the way down. “You’re beautiful,” he says, right into my pussy. I adjust my hips on the sink for him to get a better angle. His thumb lightly grazes the outer folds of my labia and my growing, tingling clitoris. I suck in a breath as he teases me. He rubs my clitoris in small, gentle circles, licking his lips and grinning from ear-to-ear. He knows exactly what he’s doing. As he teases, my hips repeat the same motion as his fingers, soaking up every ounce of pleasure possible. 

But it isn’t enough. I need this mouth, his tongue, his spit on me. I need him inside me. I grip his blonde hair. “Gael—” I moan.

“More?” he says. I can only tighten my grip on his hair and bob my head. 

He grants my desire, first kissing my outer folds, then gradually moving toward flicking my clitoris with his tongue, making me spasm. He then turns to sucking and circling my clitoris with his mouth, a combination that overwhelms my senses and makes my legs tremble. His eyes are constantly on my face, attentive to every whimper and moan that comes out of me. When the skin on my chest starts to burn and my limbs grow numb, preparing for release, I let go of Gael’s hair and reach for his hands. He interweaves his fingers with mine. I can feel myself building, building, building… being consumed by my internal inferno. But he doesn’t let me go. Not completely. I nearly pass out when he kisses my inner thighs and draws back, his smirking lips wet with my arousal. I clench my legs to ease my pussy’s aching. 

“Why did you stop? Keep going!” I pant. 

Gael rises and plants kisses on my breasts, and neck. I’m suddenly aware of his dick against my leg, smooth and pulsing for me. 

“I don’t want to take things too far. Not here.” 

I can’t believe my ears. “But we’ve gotten so—”

He kisses my lips, stopping me mid-sentence. “I’m not rushing. We have all night.” 

My head hits the bathroom mirror. Damn, he has the patience of a monk.   

BZZZZZ!

We look down at his pant pocket. His phone’s lighting up through the fabric, buzzing non-stop. We lock eyes with each other. Gael brings a finger to his lips and takes out his phone, holding it up to his ear.   

Sam’s voice cracks on the line. “Why haven’t you answered your phone? I shouldn’t have to text you three—” 

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to text me anymore. We’re done.” 

Beep. Gael puts his phone back in his pocket and sighs, pulling his pants up. 

“Let’s get out of here. We got some business to take care of.”