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Chapter Three

A Prelude to Pretending

The next three days were a whirlwind of worry. Aside from Perci's spontaneous invite, I had a Physics midterm and, according to my first attempt at the practice exams, I only understood half of the material. I ended up going through the textbook and all my notes with a fine-tooth comb, memorizing the formulas over and over in every possible scenario and iteration, making damn sure the midterm wouldn't be able to throw me any curveballs. I must've used up an entire tree with all the notes and practice exams I printed out from the library. I was dead set on acing this test.

However, despite doing my best to push it to the back of my mind, every now and then the invitation would come creeping back to the forefront of my thoughts, leaving me ever-trepidatious with that clashing question: "Should I stay or should I go?"

But without even knowing what to expect, listing any pros and cons regarding the answer to that question was futile. All I had to go off of was what I knew about Perci...

Her lackadaisical approach to life...

Her affinity for mushrooms and bell peppers on her pizza...

Her lack of embarrassment about being naked in front of complete strangers...

Her slender frame...

Her long, graceful legs...

Her cute breasts with those perky nipples...

Her curly coat that's warm to the touch...

...Goddamn.

I truly don't know why, but amongst my indecisiveness, those questioning thoughts always turned to her, and, for the life of me, I could not think about her without picturing how damn hot she was without her clothes.

In fact, I have to admit these thoughts came to me more than a few times while Rohan was off studying in the library, which often led to me partaking in... unsavory activities.

Yes, I am well aware that masturbating to the thought of somebody you barely know isn't 100% ethical and is often more associated with those who are less than wholesome, but I needed to study, and the raging hard-on that the thought of Perci's nude form was giving me was proving to be too big of a distraction to ignore, especially when the blood that supposed to be pumping through your brain to help you focus is being pumped through your penis instead.

It started with me simply imagining her there, standing there with her hands on her hips and that smirk on her face, proud that her bare body could make a man like me feel so dissolute. Then came the posing. Sometimes, she'd cover herself with her arms, hiding the most private parts of her body from my sight and leaving me hungry for more. Other times, she'd would show off every inch of skin she could, rubbing her breasts until her nipples would go stiff, bending over and lifting her tail, spreading her labia with her fingers.

There was even a time where she gave in to the excitement, tucking her hand in between her thighs and fingering herself. She moaned like a bitch in heat, because in that moment that was exactly what she was. And she kept penetrating her folds and rubbing her clitoris until she came, knowing full well I was stroking my cock to the sight of her indecent acts.

Eventually, I'd climax and the daydream would end. Nobody there except me, my semen-covered hand, and the long, post-masturbatory silence in which I contemplate why the hell I did that.

I mean, I did it was because the thought of Perci riled me up and made me horny, but I was I really so primitive to just give in these urges? Normally, whenever I... debased myself like this, there was always that pessimistic clear-headedness that followed, but it always had a superficiality to it. After all, the characters in the erotic stories weren't real, and the actors and actresses from the porn videos are paid to give pleasure to their audience vicariously. But her... she was real! And she was completely unaware of how I was objectifying her like this. So when I'd finally clean up whatever mess I made and go back to studying, I'd still feel like some sort of pervert monster. And no matter how much I regretted giving in, it never stopped me from doing it again.

The worst of it happened right before my midterm. I woke up a bit after 2 in the afternoon. I had lost track of time studying the night before and ended up pulling an all-nighter, falling asleep with my head between pages 506 and 507 of the textbook, and skipping all of my morning classes.

"Son of a bitch!" I cursed when I checked my clock, praying the professors wouldn't take points off my final grade for truancy.

Doing my best to push that past failure out of my head, I mentally laid out what I needed to do for today. I had a little under three hours before the test. I figured a 15-minute shower and a 15-minute walk to the Engineering Building would give me a good couple of hours of last-minute review.

With everything settled, I stripped down, wrapping my lower half with a towel, and toted my shower caddy down the hall to the showers. Fortunately, the hallways, as well as the showers, were empty. I wasn't in the mood for being silently judged for walking around with my bulbous stomach jutting out. I noted to myself for the nth time that I need to fetch my bathrobe the next time I visit home.

After stepping into an empty shower stall and closing the curtain behind me, I turned on the water, stepping out of the way and giving it time to warm up. Once the water was the right temperature, I cast my towel aside, hanging it on the wall rack, and stepped into the cascade.

Now, I don't know if this happens to anybody else, but sometimes, when I'm deprived of sleep, I get a bit more... easily excitable. Maybe being tired helps one shed inhibitions the same way alcohol does. I don't really know why. I just do. So as the water ran down my body, and I was rubbing the soap into my feathers, I became helpless in resisting how enjoyable the sensation was. It was warm and comforting. It was... almost like I was hugging her again.

Like her warm, beautiful, naked body was now rubbing up against me and embracing me for a second time. Even with the downpour of lukewarm water against my body, I could feel the heat spreading across every inch of my skin.

Like the times before, I gave into temptation. I closed my eyes and as if I'd summoned her, she was there with me in the shower, her body as bare as mine. Nevermind how she got into the boy's showers without getting caught, or where her clothes were. All that mattered was that I could reach out and feel the shortened corkscrews of her coat and the body heat of her skin underneath.

It started innocently enough, cupping the left slide of her face, and the subtle curves of her smile. My hand drifted downward, caressing her neck and falling to her shoulder. As I held my hand there, she must have sensed the hesitation in my actions, as she grabbed my arm and brought my hand farther down, until it stopped right atop her breast.

Guiding me across her body, I could tell she didn't want me to be afraid of her. Even if I had no idea what was going to happen next, she wanted me to enjoy it as much as she would. Taking the initiative, I moved my fingers, massaging her supple bosom. After a few seconds, I went a step further, dragging my thumb along her areola. I've always heard female nipples were infinitely more sensitive than those of males, and with hers going stiff in my hand, I could concede that what I heard was true.

Her breath became heavy, panting out short gasps as I touched her. She inched closer, causing me to press deeper into her chest. She began to moan freely as my hand teased her, not caring if anyone outside our stall heard.

Deciding to be even more adventurous, I drew my other hand to her side, tracing her abdomen with my fingers until I reached down to her hip. My fingers squeezed into her, digging into her rear and pulling her in closer.

One more step and she closed the distance between us. Her body against mine, the curls of fur along her breasts brushed against the feathers along my belly, and our faces were only inches apart. Having never French kissed, I saw the opportunity and took it. I inched my beak closer to her muzzle until they touched. Willingly, she opened her lips and let me in. The instant my tongue touched hers, chills raced down my spine, through my entire body.

Any trepidation I previously had turned to excitement. Gone was the pitter-patter of the running water. Gone was the shower stall and the rest of the room behind the curtain. Gone was the fear of another student catching us in the act. Then and there, all that mattered was her mouth against mine and the dance our tongues performed together for what felt like an eternity.

When we eventually separated, we were both left gasping for air. Once we both regained our respective share of oxygen, we went at it again. This time, it was more carnal, like we were trying to smother each other with our faces. Nothing held either of us back.

Her hands rushed across my body in a messy, lust-filled frolic. One moment, her hands were in my hair, pushing my head deeper into her lips. The next, her nails her digging into my back. While uncomfortable at first, the stinging sensation of her claws excited me, sending adrenaline pumping through my system. Her assault on my back travelled downward until she reached my buttocks, grabbing a handful of each cheek and causing me to thrust my hips and poke her in the waist with my now very erect penis.

Noticing the protrusion, she released her grip on my rear end and looked down in curiosity. While the sensation of of curls against my member was pleasant, I quickly realized how exposed I was to my sudden mate, my cheeks changing from vine green to rose red. I, too, loosened my grip on her, wary of whether or not my penile disruption had crossed an unspoken line.

However, after inspecting my rod for what felt like forever, she looked back up to me with a smile. It wasn't the devious smirk she aimed at me after stripping for the grooming. This was more... wholesome. At first, I found the gesture nothing short of enigmatic. As the seconds ticked by, I recalled how much she enjoyed showing off her body. Was she happy because I was showing her my body in such a way as well?

Before I could ponder the question any longer, she rested her hand right below my waist. Despite my shock at her touch, I remained motionless, nonetheless curious about what she would do next. Her hand inched lower, reaching the base of my shaft. Slowly, she traced her fingers along the skin of my manhood until her soft grip had enveloped it.

Obviously, I've felt pleasure from my own hand before. However, the foreign warmth that now surrounded my manhood felt like so much more than a sheer hand. The simulation from her merely holding me in such a way left me with goosebumps under my feathers, even with the hot water dousing us from above.

Her fingers began to massage me, her fingers softly kneading into the bottom of my member while her thumb rested atop. Her index finger toyed with the base of my shaft while her pinky played right beneath my head.

Her ministrations were gentle to begin with, giving me time to adjust to the unfamiliar innervation, coaxing me into bliss, little by little. Gradually, she began to move her hand faster, stroking me with enthusiasm. My breathing, silent at first, turned to audible panting and, admittedly, the occasional whimper. I felt her muzzle pressed against my beak and, recognizing the cue, opened my mouth to embrace hers once again, and our tongue's dance began anew.

Yet, among all the pleasure from the kissing and the handjob, I noticed how little I was doing to satisfy Perci. To remedy this insincerity, I brought my hand back to her breast, continuing where I had previously left off, fondling her chest and tracing her areolas. Meanwhile, my other hand lowered itself down betwixt her thighs until my fingers felt the folds of her entrance, warm and wet, wantonly waiting for stimulation of any kind.

All it took was to rub my fingers against her drenched slit, and I had made her putty in my hands, moaning muted cries of pleasure into my mouth. Her knees bent and her hand slammed against the shower wall, likely to keep her steady. For a moment, she paused her actions, alleviating her hold of my erection, until she reaffirmed her grip on me, stroking me with twice as much vigor as before. The added titillation must have motivated her as much as it excited her.

The heat was stronger than before. With the culmination of her hand around my cock, my hands on her breast and slit, and our mouths intertwined, a fire was burning within me that I had never felt before. And I was holding on to that fire for as long as I could, trying not to orgasm, even as I felt the pressure build inside of me. I wanted it to grow, and make this beautiful woman feel the same heat build until we both went supernova.

I couldn't hold myself back, nor did I want to. I took my index finger, now soaked in her fluids, and penetrated her. Again, her cries of pleasure resonated between our joined mouths. As my finger continued to slowly, yet surely, penetrate her further, she continued to wail in pure ecstasy.

My God. Her cries were almost unreal, so full of lust and want. And the best part about this was knowing I was the one responsible for all of it.. I was making her feel so amazing that she couldn't control herself, begging for more as she jerked me off until I reached my breaking point. She may have initiated it, but knowing I was giving her exactly what she wanted made the experience infinitely more rewarding than any impure act should be.

And just like that, I erupted in her hand, my essence flying across the shower until the my stream was reduced to the final drops trickling out of my tip, staining her hand.

My legs going weak, I let go of her and fell back against the wall of the shower, bracing myself as she released me in turn. With my heart going a mile a minute, steadying my breath took some time. Once I was finally in a stable condition, I opened my eyes... and she was gone. It was only me in the shower, all by my lonesome. Looking down, I saw my deflating cock in my hand, still leaking from my orgasm, and small puddles of sticky, white fluid scattered along the shower floor, slowly being washed away by the running water.

I had gone and done it again. I fell back into temptation and let myself go. In the public showers where I could have been caught, of all places, I had the lewdest fantasy of Perci yet and nonetheless gave in unquestioningly, using her image and likeness for my sole gratification, like some basement-dwelling freak of nature.

What the everloving fuck is wrong with me?

"DAMMIT!" I swore, hitting the wall behind me with my fist.

Less than a second later, I heard the sound of the shower room door opening, "Everything okay? I heard shouting."

The voice immediately made me very aware of my surroundings.

"I-It's fine!" I fibbed, "Everything's fine! I just, uh, I dropped the soap!" I don't why I chose that lie over all the others I could have chosen. I don't even use soap, I use body wash. Then again, the voice on the other side of the curtain didn't know that.

"No offense, but if that's your reaction to dropping the soap, I think you should probably chill out some!" As much as I didn't like people telling me to calm down, I was nonetheless relieved he didn't question what I told him.

"Yeah, I'll try to work on that." I answered.

With the conversation over, I swiftly finished washing. Only when I heard another shower head turn on did I turn off my water and dry myself off, peeking out from the curtain to ensure the coast was clear and doing my best to avoid another talk with Mr. Anger Management. Wrapping the towel around my waist again, I opened the shower curtain and made my way back to my dorm.

At last, I was in my dorm and safe from prying eyes. I disrobed and walked to my closet, but stopped myself when I saw the time on the clock.

"Three o'clock!?"

I couldn't believe it. I had spent an hour fantasizing and ejaculating to Perci, a half hour I could have spent studying. How? I was certain I was in the shower for only 10 minutes, 15 minutes at the most. Had I really been that caught up in the fantasy? Did I really let myself go for that long?

I felt worries materializing as a weight in my chest. This wasn't some mere, stupid sexual fantasy anymore. If I let this continue, then it will have the chance of ruining my life. I've read stuff on the internet about this, about teenagers become addicted to porn and masturbate 10 hours a day, keeping bottles of their own cum in the refrigerator.

Okay, I was definitely never going to do that last thing. Regardless, the idea of become addicted to masturbation and destroying my future felt like a very real possibility; at least, in my eyes, it did.

After doting on that nightmare for longer than i should have, I got dressed and spent the next hour and a half trying to study. I say "trying" because as much as tried to focus on my notes and texts, all I could think about was how Perci would react if she ever found out how I've been objectifying her. A million and one possibilities flooded my brain, none of them positive...

"What the fuck, Patrigue?"

"Dude, that's kinda gross."

"Do you do that with all the women you know?"

"Wow, I feel really objectified!"

Those were only some of the few that didn't end with a punch to the balls.

Of course, I knew I had no reason to tell her, nor did I have any reason to believe she'd ever find out. Still, even if she really was the free spirit she presented herself to be, how could she not be insulted at the thought of men fantasizing about her in such a perverted way?

I didn't know if there was an answer. I didn't want to think of one. The shame was swallowing me up, notwithstanding. I had to stop fantasizing about her, I decided between practice questions. And if I was going to do my best to get her out of my head, then was going to have to cut off all communication with her. Under no circumstances, whatsoever, could I go to this party.

Twenty minutes before the test, I checked and double checked my backpack and pockets, making sure I had my pens, pencils, pencil sharpener, notes, calculator, and spare batteries. With everything in its right place (with the exception of my mental state), I let out a heavy sigh and trekked off to face the monster that was worth 25% of my final grade.

Fast forward to three hours later. I was walking out of the Engineering building mentally and intellectually exhausted, having answered all the questions and double-checked all my math and formulas until pencils down.

I wanted to say I was confident that I aced it. It didn't matter at that point. My nerves were too fried to care about passing or failing now. That test was in the past, and now it's time to look to the future (and the future looked like a delicious grilled cheese sandwich).

After a five minute walk across campus to the nearest dining hall and another five minute wait in the line for Grill Express, I sat down with my grilled cheese with bacon and a bottle of root beer. Wasting no time, I brought the absolutely delectable sandwich to my beak and chomped down. As the melted butter of the bread encompassed my taste buds, followed by the warm softness of melted cheese and the savoriness of the bacon, dopamine coursed through my veins, bringing myself to enlightenment that could only be only be felt by a grilled cheese with bacon after a long-ass midterm.

A few minutes later, my plate and soda bottle were both empty and my stomach was the opposite. While giving myself time to digest, I remembered I turned off my phone for the midterm and should check for any messages. When my phone was booted up and unlocked, I was greeted by a new text message... from Perci.

"meet us at the luc in 20 hope you can make it"

The "luc" she was referring to was the Limestone Union Cafe, which was exactly where I was right now. Gazing a little lower, I noticed the time that the text was sent was exactly 20 minutes ago.

"Hey, Pat!"

Motherfucker... So much for avoiding her.