College is for Fucking

“Hey, before you go, what’s your name?”

“It’s Yves.” He took off down the hall.

I went into my room. “Eve. What a name for a guy!” I slipped out of my pants and got into bed in my underwear and t-shirt. Then it struck me. “Adam and Eve.” Maybe I misunderstood him, I thought. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

A light rapping at my door woke me. Before I got out of bed, the door creaked open. Yves came in with a little bit of food and some iced-tea. “I should have asked for your key and locked the door. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s OK. I wasn’t thinking either.”

“You don’t sound good,” said Yves. “Does your throat hurt?”

“It’s scratchy, but not too bad. It’s my head, and I feel so hot.”

Yves reached forward and brushed my damp bangs back. “You’re really sweaty, and you feel hot. Drink this; I’m going to phone a friend of mine.”

He handed me a large styrofoam cup with a lid then proceeded to unwrap a straw. He pushed it into the lid and then smiled and nodded at me. I realized he was more than cute, he was extremely handsome. And he was kind. But that was probably an act. I moved my body to the edge of the bed next to the wall. Was the drink safe? I felt like shit; I knew I needed some fluids. I took a risk.

I heard Yves on the phone discussing my health. Why would he care? He could turn me over right now and have his way with ass, and I wouldn’t have the strength to fight back. I closed my eyes and took another sip. “Will they let you bring it? I think it’d be better if he stayed in bed, but I could get him there if I need to. No, I don’t think he needs an ambulance. OK, then. I see you in a bit.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “A friend of mine is coming to check your temperature. He’ll listen to your lungs and possibly check you for the flu.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you up for eating anything? I brought some mashed potatoes and corn. Everything else looked too spicy. I can go out for something else if you need me to.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I demanded.

“I like you, Adam.” He paused. “Let me be absolutely accurate. I want to like you. I am extremely attracted to you. Extremely. More than I have been to any other guy. But I’ve asked about you, and what I’ve been told, well, it says something about you.”

“Something you don’t like?” I asked.

“No. But I think that someone’s taught you that sex is about the feeling you have when you ejaculate. I don’t think you see it as sharing an experience.”

“I make sure the other guy has a good time,” I countered. “I’m not like Kogan!” I said angrily. Oh, fuck. Shit. Damn. I was never going to mention that filth’s name.

Yves looked at me. I saw tears form in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but I knew he suspected.

A knock at the door broke the tension.

Yves got up and opened the door.

I was surprised to see the dark-haired dude from the shower. His name tag indicated that he was a nurse practitioner. He came into the room and pulled a thermal scanner from his bag.

“This is Mark. Mark, this is Adam.”

“We’ve met,” chuckled Mark. He touched the scanner to my forehead. It beeped. “101.2” With his stethoscope, he listened to my heart and lungs. “They sound OK. This just started today?”

“That’s right.”

“We’ve had an increase in flu cases, so I’m going to test you for that, and then I’m going to head back to work. I’m on break. I’ll phone the results to you.” He turned to me and whispered, “I enjoyed my time with you. I’d had a fight with my boyfriend, and I needed that time with you.”

Mark got up and left.

I’m not sure why, but I suddenly felt empty. Maybe it was the fever. I drank the last of the tea and put the cup on the desk behind me.

“Why were you named Eve?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of anyone named Eve, except for Eve from the bible.”

“My name is Y-V-E-S like Yves Montand the actor. My mother loved him.”

“Oh. Well, duh, of course. I’m sorry,” I muttered.

“You haven’t hurt me, Adam.” He pushed my bangs back again. “But you’re hurting, and I’m here when you’re ready.”

“I’m not hurting. The hurt’s over with, and I’ve made sure it won’t start again.” There was anger in my voice.

“How did you do that?”

“By making sure I don’t care and not falling for it when someone says he cares.”

“So this guy said he cared?”

I started to cry. “He said he loved me; he said I was like his little boy, and then he raped me, for years he raped me.” I was sobbing.

Yves put his arms around me. I didn’t want to be touched. I pulled away. I turned away from him and continued to sob. Why was I doing this? The tears stopped. The phone in Yves’ pocket rang.

“C’est ton portable.”

“Je sais.” He pulled his phone out and answered. “The flu, huh? His ID card. OK.”

He looked over at me. “You’ve got the flu. I need to send a picture of your ID so they can enter it and get you some medicine. Mark says he’ll pick it up and bring it when he gets off work.”

“It’s in my pants pocket.”

Yves sent Mark a copy of my ID and then he sat back next to me. He seemed sad, and he was chewing his bottom lip. He had a look that made me want to hug him.

“I’d hug you, but I don’t want to give you the flu,” I told him.

“I’ve had a flu shot.”

“Do you think you should go back to your room and bring a change of clothes?

“Why would I need that?” He grinned as he said it.

“You’re going to stay with me tonight, aren’t you? To make sure I’m OK.”

“Where would I sleep?” Yves asked.

“Here, next to me. I mean, you’ve had your shot.”

He stretched out next to me. “You mean like this?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “You can put your arm around me, and make me feel safe.”

“And when you get horny?”

“I’m sick. I won’t get horny,” I told him.

“Adam,” he said with disappointment in his tone.

“OK, so I will probably get horny. I mean who wouldn’t with an extremely sexy hunk next to him? But it’s only our first date right?”

“Right,” he replied.

“Maybe you can tell me what will happen on our third date,” I suggested.

“Fourth.”

“You’re going to make us wait until our fourth date?”

“So here’s how it’s going to go. I’m going to show up at your door with a picnic basket filled with fried chicken, potato salad, and your favorite soda. We’ll spread a blanket on the floor, and while sitting next to each other, we’ll m0unch on chicken, neck, and talk about our future. You see, by that time, we will have both realized that we’re meant to spend the rest of our lives together.”

I rolled so he could spoon me, and I pulled his hand around and held it to my chest.

“Our kisses will become deeper and more passionate. Our hands will begin to explore our bodies. We’ll remove our clothes and take turns kissing and sucking our cocks. I’ll bring you to the edge of coming and then you’ll bring me to the edge.

“Now, because we are both smart men, after you recovered from the flu, we were both tested for HIV and came out negative…”

“And I’m on PreP and use condoms,” I added.

“Shh. It’s my story. As I was saying, we were able to make love without condoms. Because my hole is so tight, you were barely able to get your cock inside me. Your dick fills my tunnel, and it rubs across my prostate with each little movement you make until it explodes inside my and you spew your seed into my gut.”

“Sounds like how I come.”

“Stop interrupting. I roll over on my back, and you sit on my cock. You struggle to get in all in because my dick is huge.”

I reach around and squeeze his cock through his pants. “Hmph. Not yet it’s not.”

Yves continued. “You manage finally to get all me inside you, and then you start riding up and down my thick, hard shaft. It doesn’t take long to push me over the edge, and I dump load after load into you, so much that it can’t all fit, and it spews out your ass. You collapse onto me and confess your undying love. We cuddle until we fall asleep.”

“Sounds like I do all the work in this little fantasy you’ve written.” I reached for his crotch again and felt his dick again. “And you may be a little confused about your measurements. Centimeters versus inches.” I chuckled a little with that one. He was definitely larger than average, but he wasn’t the monster he portrayed in his story.

“Well, when you’re better, we can measure it. Maybe that can be date number two.”

“You’ll let me touch it on the second date?”

“Yes,” he whispered into my ear. “And, now that I’m thinking about it, I think I’ll let you take my cherry on the third date. I’ve been having a hankering for chicken.”

His cherry, I thought. He's a virgin?