Dorm Days - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I woke up to the sun, peering through my window, straight across my face, but I didn't move. I laid there thinking of what had happened the previous night. Thoughts of Tom clung to my mind much like sugar on a carpet. I closed my eyes and imagined him in his football uniform, slowly striping. First, he removed his helmet, giving me that same grin that had turned me on so much before. He then slowly began peeling off his jersey, showing me his well toned figure and his fur dampened from sweat. I licked my lips and slowly began trailing my hand over my stomach, towards my jeans. At that very moment, however, something across the room snapped me out of my hormone-filled haze.
My eyes shot wide, and, in what must have been the most embarrassed looking face in the world, I turned my head to see a very large, awkward looking husky, holding a huge bag of hockey equipment. I blame lack of blood to the brain for what I was about to say, but, whatever the reason, it goes down in history as one of the most stupid lines I've ever said.
"Were you just going to watch?" I asked, without thinking.
With that question, I realized that this was my roommate for the next few years, and that within less than five minutes I had made every future encounter with him as awkward as waking up naked next to a bag of sourdough bagels. Fortunately for me, he was a little dense.
He fell onto his bed, holding his sides and roared with laughter in one of the heaviest voices I've ever heard. To insure that I was joking, I chuckled and smiled along with him for a few moments before sitting up on the side of the bed. Looking around a bit, I began to wonder how long he had been in here. There was a plasma screen television sitting on the top of his dresser, a fancy new laptop on his desk, and a number of posters of what I assume were his favorite sports stars (and a few models). It wasn't until he stood up again that I got a good look at him.
He was tall! In fact, he was probably about seven feet tall. He was big too, and none of it was fat. He moved towards me, not so much like a person, but more like a tank rolling over a small building. He was wearing one of the school's hockey jerseys with a white torso and blue short sleeves that strained against the muscles of his arms. His long, white shorts strained against his legs too.
"Hey, my name's Rex," He said, bringing his hand into a fist and socking me in the shoulder with what must have seemed to him to be no strength at all, but what had almost winded me.
I rubbed my shoulder, sorely introducing myself. Just then, my phone began to ring, and I snatched it from the table, needing an excuse to leave this behemoth of a husky. I held up a claw, as if to say "one second" and left the room.
I looked at the phone, finding myself wishing I had stayed in my room with the husky.
My ears folded back, and, in half a whimper, I asked, "Yes sir?"
The voice on the other end didn't come instantly, but the silence was enough to make me ache. When he spoke, his words ate away at my heart like a parasite.
"Your last client would like another meeting." The stern voice on the other end of the line was oddly playful. "You are just too good to say 'no' to, Pup." Then his tone changed and was serious once again. "You can meet him at the same location on Friday night, like last time," and, with a click, my boss hung up.
I looked down at my shoes, which from this angle seemed to resemble my feelings at this very moment, gray and worn out. Even the hem of my jeans looked worn down; they were fraying at the ankles and tearing in the knees.
It was then that my phone rang, and I opened it, expecting the address of where my client would be staying. It wasn't. Instead,I slid it open and heard a slightly familiar voice come up from the speaker.
"Hello?" I asked quickly, not wanting him to hang up.
"Why so down, Otter?" Tom's voice came from the earpiece.
I quickly changed my voice to sound a little happier, still finding it quite hard to do after the previous conversation. "Hey! What makes you think I'm feeling down?"
"No reason." He paused for a little longer than what was comfortable, which made me look around. I'm a little more than paranoid.
"Hello," I asked, not sure he was still there.
He didn't respond right away. I heard shuffling, for a second, and the sound of a woman saying something that I couldn't make out. Then I heard Tom again, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch, or maybe I could give you a tour of the college." The tone of his voice sounded almost desperate. Not knowing who he was talking to, I'm not sure if it was from actual desperation or the threat of being put into a headlock.
I paused for a minute to think. What do I have to lose? I can either hang out with the hulk or a stud muffin.
"Yeah, I would like that," I said, feeling a little happier.
Immediately after I finished my statement, I heard what must have been the woman in the background letting out a roar at Tom. "What did he say?!" The question was both loud and demanding and followed by much more shuffling.
I awaited a response. After the shuffling stopped, I heard the slam of a door and Tom yell, "Go to work, Yvonne!" A couple seconds later he picked up the phone and said, "I'm sorry about that, my room-mate is a little nosey. So, would it be ok if I stopped by in a few minutes?"
"Yeah, I just have to get ready. See you in a minute," I said while turning around and heading into my room. My room-mate was lying on his bed. He had the television turned on to a program called Locker Room Talk, that I frequented just for the reason that there were naked, out of focus sports teams in the background. He also had his hand down his pants and a magazine opened to the centerfold of a lioness riding a doberman.
When I closed the door, he looked back at me and waved with his free hand, while continuing his work. I walked in and grabbed a pair of light brown, cargo shorts and an electric blue t-shirt. I had painted with a paw print and the question, "Wanna Get Wet?" I thought it was pretty clever. I quickly got changed, noticing the husky was watching every second and changing his pace dramatically.
I turned around, and Rex got a glimpse of my shirt. He started laughing even louder than before. Sitting up, he removed his hand from his pants, and, grabbing a towel from his bag, he cleaned up.
"Dude, you're fuckin' hilarious! Where did you find a shirt like that?" He stood up and smacked me on the back, almost winding me again.
Trying to ignore the fact that he just touched me with the hand he had just jacked off with, I managed to say, "Made it."
For a moment there, he looked really surprised. Then he laughed again.
"Ah, I get it! You had your maid make it for you!" This time he only gently patted me on the back, which I have to admit felt really... nice.
I gave him a slight smile and said, "Yeah... sure... maid."
Just then I heard a knock on the door, and, before Rex could ask any more questions, I told him I had to head out and would be back later that night. He gave me a funny look and shrugged. I was out the door, and there was Tom.