Freshman Adventures: It’s Summer

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Picture the face of an 18-year-old kid. Shower water runs down his near-total crew cut of a scalp and over his gray-blue eyes. This kid is Dennis Tominsky. He’s staring at the tiles of the shower after masturbating, having watched his favorite video for the umpteenth time. He’s concentrating hard on what looks like nothing, but we can all see that it’s in his head. He’s a plotter, Dennis; a mental gamesman. He looks like if he engaged you in conversation you’d have no choice but to pay close attention to whatever he says; he looks like if he shouted at you, no matter what he shouted, it would bruise. He stares at the tile and breathes hard and looks downward at his junk.

Dennis turns off the water. He has to go check on his grandmother. His grandmother who no longer has full custody of him and hasn’t since he turned eighteen. But you know what? Dennis thinks of himself as such a compassionate guy that he’s sticking around anyway. At least until he goes to college up north. He towels himself off. He dresses in underwear and jeans. He’s well-built, a sturdy, not too tall, but still imposing lank of a figure. Clearly goes to the gym somewhat regularly. Not that his body is every straight woman’s type, but every straight woman would admit he’s attractive.

Opening the door to his grandmother’s room softly, Dennis peers in at her. Yep, she’s asleep. The sound of running water put her to sleep as usual. Her bottle of pills sits on the bedside table. It’s knocked over, like usual, but at least none of the pills fell under the bed this time. Dennis won’t have to cut into his precious time searching for them.

She’s snoring. Also, usual. It is only now that Dennis notices that she does look like his mother. Except not that much older. It isn’t his grandma’s fault. His mom has already done enough to her body to make her look just a few years’ shy in age of her own mother. How pathetic.

Sensing her sleep is deep enough at this point, Dennis reaches into her open purse, lying on the floor, removes a wad of twenty dollar bills just crumpled up in there, crumpled like used napkins, and folds them up nice and neat. Under the twenty, he locates what he’s looking for; a bottle of Oxycodone. He puts it in his pocket with the twenty. He grins. He gently shuts the door.


Cheryl Peters stands on the sidewalk outside the house. She hugs herself through her green velvet shirt. Why does he make her stand in the cold like this? He would just tell her that she should have brought a jacket.

She hears a text message come through but it isn’t from Dennis. It’s from her best friend Clarissa. Clarissa says babe listen, do not, I repeat, DO NOT fuck him this time

She has not thought of a response before the door opens and Dennis Tominsky stands there, arms crossed, grinning.

“Aren’t you going to give me a hug?” Cheryl asks.


Cheryl smiles and looks away. Dennis laughs. He approaches Cheryl. He kisses her cheek. He brushes away her hair.

“How’s everything, babe?”


“You must be nearing heat stroke or something.”

Dennis looks over her whole body as he says that. The velvet shirt that dips into a V shape and shows the upper edge of her bra; the light-blue jeans with the black leather belt; the steel-toed gray shoes. She used to get nervous when he looked over her whole body. Now she gets slightly wet.

“Let’s get you inside,” Dennis says, taking her hand, curling his fingers into her’s and leading her inside.

“Um, just so you know,” says Cheryl, on the stairwell, almost at the heavy wooden door that’s loose on one hinge.

“What?” Dennis says, whipping himself around at the door, like a predator. It’s scary.

“Just so you know, we’re not having sex this time,” Cheryl says. “I just want to hang out.”

Dennis observes her for a few seconds. He smiles with one side of his mouth.

“Dennis…I’m serious, it isn’t anything personal, just-“

“Do I look like I’m offended?”

Cheryl bahis firmaları looks away, at the wall with the paint peeling.

“Look into my eyes.”

Oooh she can’t believe he said that. Why is he doing saying the same thing he tells her to do sometimes during sex? Why did he have to just put the image of his face bobbing above her’s into her mind?

Cheryl looks into his eyes, squinting, trying to look pissed off.

“Do I look offended? Am I ever offended by anything?”

Cheryl shakes her head.

“It’s cool, we won’t.”

Dennis wheels around as he says it and opens the door. Cheryl hesitates for a moment, looking at his hand holding the door, at the snake tattoo with the tail ending at his knuckles. She steps inside, her heart beating in total defeat and anticipation.


Dennis moves the lighter around the interior of the bowl. Cheryl watches the light move. Her forehead already feels light. She doesn’t know if she regrets bringing the pot or if it’s better this way. Dennis inhales and exhales smoke into her face. Cheryl brushes it aside and giggles. She hardly hears herself giggling. She just knows it happened.

Now Dennis is crushing up a pill on the coffee table in front of the T.V. Is that one of his grandmother’s pills? He snorts it. His head jerks back. He inches the remainder towards Cheryl.

“Try it,” he says and clears his throat. He gives her a look that makes him look ten years younger, suddenly.

Cheryl tries it. She feels the redness shoot into her eyes. Her head cocks back. She giggles.


Now picture an 18-year old girl with her head cocked back while water runs down her cheeks and her throat, pulsating with moans. This girl is Cheryl (of course) and her eyes are squinted shut and her redness is soaking in through her skin; half of it’s the heat of the water, half of it’s physical sensation. Her boobs bounce. Her arms stretch down, rigid, to the point where she holds on to Dennis’ head. He bobs his head side to side between her thighs. He crouches in front of her, posed like a predator about to leap. You can hear his tongue and his breaths meeting wetness on the peripheries as well as from the front. You can hear it even over Cheryl’s ah ah ah fuck’s.

Dennis moves his open palmed hand over Cheryl’s stomach and over her bellybutton. He knows where to find her clit. Two of his fingers are flicking around it like two boxers punching a punching bag. He shifts his head further down between her thighs.

Cheryl grips a wad of his hair and grabs at the shower curtain with her other (what a Hollywood movie thing to do, think Dennis, taking a breather, finger fucking her while he tilts his mouth off her vulva. He gets back in there after just a few seconds.

Cheryl says, yes yes yes ah aaaahhhh aaaaahhhhh

Time to admit that, if you are a straight man, you think watching 18 ear-old girls have orgasms is highly sexy. Well, you’re watching it now. You’re watching Cheryl’s thighs buck together over this kid’s head. You’re watching her yelp once, loudly, as that happens. You’re watching her shake a little before leaning back against the wall. Dennis follows her movements and does not stop until her back is pressed against the wall. He tilts his head forward and snorts. A wet snort. He withdraws and looks up at her flushed face. Water all over.


Later, Dennis and Cheryl lie in bed, Cheryl all cuddled up next to him. Dennis’ eyes are shut. He looks totally at peace.

“Were those your grandmother’s pills?” she asks.


“The stuff we snorted.”

“What? Nah. What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

Cheryl looks at him. She smirks. Dennis kisses her on the forehead.

“You getting tired?” He mumbles/

Cheryl shrugs.

“Not really.”

“Nor am I.”


On the bed, this time in the dark, Dennis lies on top of Cheryl moving in and out steadily. She breathes. Long breaths. Her hand is visible brushing across his back. The bed kaçak iddaa starts to creak as Dennis picks up the pace.

He stops. Sounds of kissing. He pulls out of her. We can’t believe it, but this kid removes the condom that’s on his cock and tosses it in to the dark floor. He grips Cheryl’s thighs. He massages his hands up and down her calves.

Cheryl’s breaths pick up speed. She yelps in what could be fear or could be enthusiasm or a sort of naïve mixture of the two. Dennis takes his cock in one hand and guides it back into her. Cheryl makes a sound like;


Dennis whispers,

“Do you like it rough?”

“I…yeah I like…”

“I’m gonna fuck you harder…”

Dennis proceeds to do pretty much what he said he would do. Cheryl gets in one last sentence,

“Dennis…be careful…” Her words dissolve into other sounds. Sound made by the mattress mingled with sounds made by her vocal chords.

It all gets rougher over the few minutes. By that time the mattress is straight up seesawing, Cheryl is hyperventilating and her legs are sprouting in the air, bobbing up and down…and Dennis is moving back and forth, all hunched over, pummeling in and out of her like a cannon rod.

“Uh uh uh uh Dennis uh uh uh fuck…”

Wet smacking sounds. Dennis seethes.

“Ah ah ah ah AH AH AH AH I’m cumming AH AH A-“

Dennis’ hand plugged over her mouth. He clenches his teeth.

Cheryl’s legs buckle.

Getting real close now, between her strained, upright thighs; specks of fluid pop out from between her vulva and Dennis’ nuts. They find their resting place in the creases of the mattress cover.

Look at Dennis’ cock. I know, I know; you might be a heterosexual male. You might also be a heterosexual woman who thinks this is just getting too crude, too virile. But look at it for a moment; as he walks across the hallway to the bathroom, cock swinging lightly, erection not subsided all the way, we can see that it’s slick. White, slick and shiny. As he walks it catches the light. It’s almost a work of art, except that it’s actually disgusting.

Dennis turns into the bathroom. His cock hanging above the toilet, he removes a handful of toilet paper and applies it.


Tomcatsky2000: So yeah Cheryl Peters lol

Cauldron2020: What about her?

Tomcatsky2000: Shes a squirter

Cauldron2020: You banged her???

Tomcatsky2000: Yeah I got with Pencils

Cauldron2020: Haha why did we start calling her that again?

Tomcatsky2000: No idea. Point is I beat you to it.

Cauldron2020: Ya wutever dude no reason to rub it in

Tomsky2000: She was always more into me anyway.

Tomsky2000: tastes like vinegar lol

Cauldron2020: Lol. Dude you didn’t fuck that junkie chick last weekend did you?

Tomksy2000: She has a name you misogynist pig. Adria. And maybe I did maybe I didn’t.

Cauldron2020: Oh jesus you did fuck her

Dennis2000: (Inserts smiley face)

Dennis 2000: Probs will when we see her tomorrow too

Cauldron2020: You sure she’ll be around?

Dennis2000: Anywhere there’s drugs there’s her

Cauldron2020: How old is she anyway?

Dennis2000: I think like 28. Had a kid once she said. Explains the giant dick-ready labia.

Cauldron2020: Is she pink or purple?

Dennis2000: Lol another pink

Cauldron2020: Why do I get all the purples…

Dennis2000: Who cares I get more pussy than you in general

Cauldron2020: You gotta slow down dude. At least wear a condom this time.

Dennis2000: Were I sensible human being perhaps I would but nah, don’t think so.

Cauldron2020: You bringing those pills? Same as last time?

Dennis2000: Yup.

Cauldron2020: And you hope to sell a few?

Dennis2000: Hopefully more than a few.


The next evening, in a loft apartment somewhere, rave music plays. Lines of coke on a mirror somewhere. Girls in black tops and cutoff shorts dance. Guys in polo t-shirts kaçak bahis or Ed Hardy wear dance, sometimes with the girls, sometimes not. Everybody is stoned. A strobe light projecting from the corner.

When people exit the restroom, they pass the door to the master bedroom, the bedroom used for hookups. In this case, they know not to go in there. This is because mattress squeaks and shrill female sounds are audible. Two guys pass by. One mutters to the other,

“It’s that crazy kid who always comes here.”

His friend shakes his head.

“Jesus Christ. He’ll die or have a kid before his mid-20s…”

They move on.

Do you want to peek inside the room? Of course you do.

On a large king sized mattress, Adria, a grown woman in her late 20s with a daughter to feed, bounces up and down. She’s riding Dennis’ cock. This is only happening because of multiple lies: 1. Dennis’ lie that he’s 26. 2. Dennis’ lie that it’s okay to not use a condom, he got tested and his sperm is defective 3. Dennis’ lies to Adria that he likes being around her, that he thinks she’s a noble, brave person…

Adria goes,

“ah ah ah yeah ah ah ah FUCK ah ah AH FUCK AH AH AH-“

Her hair is red. She has a nose-ring. A tattoo on one arm and another on her stomach. Her head is currently tilted back because Dennis is holding it in that position. With his other hand, he straddles her hip. Actually, his arm is curled around her waist so he can straddle both her hips.

This chick gets loud… he thinks

His cock is tingling. Just so he can forestall his own orgasm, he looks away from her face to her bouncing breasts. She’s got kind of trashy, soccer mom tits. They bounce and flop in alternating rhythms. He then thinks,

How many pills have I got left now? Like ten? Twelve?


He feels her thighs bucking around his waist and Dennis stops thinking about his pills. He looks up at her face again. He lets go of her cheek and looks in to Adria’s green, already regretful eyes. He nuts inside her. He shuts his eyes.


It’s the following evening. Dennis wakes up from a much-needed nap. He revels in the opportunity to get laid twice or more in a weekend, but he understands the immediate consequences. He has to sleep them off. He climbs out of bed and goes to check on his grandma.

When he opens the door, he’s surprised to see her 100% awake. She’s sitting up and reading the newspaper, something she hasn’t done in a while. She puts it down like she was expecting him. She looks right at him.

“Oh hello dear,” she says and coughs.

“Hi Grandma. What’s up? Just checking in. You’re probably hungry.”

She shakes her head.

“No, not really,” she says. “But you are.”

Dennis squints at her. He’s become unaccustomed to the feeling of not knowing what to say. He feels himself standing in the doorway, a breeze entering the window, exiting.

“Dennis,” his grandma says. You have to listen to me when I tell you not to waste your life.”

“I’m sorry grandma, I don’t know what…”

“Yes you do,” she said.

A bit of silence except for the hum of electricity.

“And I hope that young lass you brought over two nights ago gets that advice from someone, too.”

Dennis looks at the floor.

“Don’t be like your father,” he hears her say. “I’ve said this before. Don’t be like your father. Don’t waste your life any further.”

Dennis swallows. He turns to go. But he doesn’t step out.

“Now dear, if you don’t mind, I will be needing my pills back. Oh, I’m sure you didn’t take all of them, nor did your lunkhead friends. We both know that in that case you’d be dead and there’d be some awful story in the local news. Just put whatever is left on my bedside table, please. My back has been giving me a lot of shit today.”

Dennis nods.

“Yeah. No problem.”


In another hour, his grandma is asleep. At that time, Dennis sneaks back in to her room with the bottle of pills clutched in his hand, creeps up to her bedside table so as not to wake her, and places the bottle on the table. There are still about ten left. That should suffice. He will go and check that she’s taken one after dinner.

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