Chapter 2

	The next morning I woke up curious about what Professor Ryan had in mind. He was obviously not finished, but I had no idea where it might lead. I should have been cutting strands of the web he was building, but Doris Alex made tempting bait.

	I took a shower and got ready for work. I tried not to wake up my roommate but failed since I did not put a lot of effort into it. My roommate was not a bad guy, simply an immature child of privilege: mommy and daddy paid for school, a new car for getting into a good college, etc. He and I passed through the world on different frequencies of reality. He did not understand and interpreted, for all to hear, our differences as me being an unmitigated asshole. My roommate was not incorrect in his assessment of my personality. He just failed to recognize that only his friends did not hold the same opinion of him.

	On Friday nights and weekends, I worked as a busboy in an expensive steak house. During the week, I had consultant shifts at the school computer labs. One job required zero brain cells and the other paid me to do homework.

	Thursdays were my heavy class days with three after my shift at the lab, but I never bothered going to all of them. My majors covered most of my core requirements, allowing me to work through degree classes sooner than my classmates. I skipped most introductory courses; unfortunately, there was no way around some of them. Two of my Thursday classes were intros I could not avoid but had already taken a higher-level version. The only class I always attended was poetry writing. It could be annoying due to the unconvinced about their lack of talent personalities who populated the class, but a couple of true wordsmiths made it worthwhile.

	I walked into class and looked around for new hair colors. Finding none, I took my usual seat in the back. I was the closest to normal in the room, which did not say much for everyone else. I was taking another read through the poetry we were supposed to critique when Melisa Bryar walked in.

	She was five foot one with blonde hair and light green eyes. Her eyes were fascinating; I had seen very few which were a true green and never the light pure green of Melisa's, like someone had painted a summer morning sky green.

	I could say I was the closest to normal because Melisa was so obscenely normal she stood out. I had wondered if she might be an experiment in socialization by the moral majority. She was a member of the cheerleading squad, a sister in the premier sorority on campus, and an honors student. Melisa did not date, or hang out with jocks like other cheerleaders. All she ever seemed to do was study, practice, and socialize with her sorority sisters.

	A thought gave me pause; Doris Alex and Melisa were best friends and sorority sisters. The strands vibrated as another spider made its presence known.

	Melisa smiled at the blue-haired poetess sitting in the front row as she walked past. The poetess was a lesbian and reacted to Melisa like a straight guy might have. After Melisa passed, the poetess turned to check out her ass, grimaced, and sighed. It would have been funny if I was not trying to figure out how Melisa fit on the web.

	Melisa befriended me during our freshman year. I thought it was a function of living on the same floor and taking mostly the same classes. She sat with me in class if she did not know anyone or dragged me over to sit next to other pledges or sisters. She maintained the habit for sophomore year, so with none of her sorority sisters in our poetry class, Melisa naturally sat next to me all semester. I had new doubts about how natural 'naturally' really was.

	Melisa made small talk with me about the poems we were reviewing. I noticed the ring on her right hand, a thick band opening into a flat white stone. I looked up at her; the cat smile of Professor Ryan's was reflected on her lips. I stared, and Melisa Bryar opened her windows to me. It was there; the attention Doris Alex had given Professor Ryan's pleasure.
	
	Melisa was focused absolutely on me.

	I received the third surprise in twenty-four hours when Professor Ryan walked in. He announced our professor had been awarded a grant to study Irish poetry in its original form and paper. She arranged for Professor Ryan to teach the last weeks of our class. He looked directly at Melisa to give her a satisfied smile.

	Everyone's back straightened. In a class full of creative writing majors, Professor Ryan held a trump card. His permission-only seminar was an intense two semester writing workshop more than a class. He was also the only professor in the department widely published in poetry and fiction, with deep connections in the publishing world. The seminar was the most valuable course our school offered aspiring authors.

	"Melisa and David," he said looking at us, "neither of you has turned in your application pieces for my seminar."

	The class turned and stared at us. I had the seminar on my academic plan, but I did not apply because students were rarely accepted for their junior year. Melisa was a talented writer so no one would have questioned her inclusion, but there would be a few bitter wanna-bes if I jumped into the breach.

	"I need to do another draft on one of the pieces, Professor Ryan." I did not spit in the face of opportunity. I had a couple of pieces I could submit on the moment's notice Professor Ryan gave me.

	"I put it in your mailbox this morning, sir," Melisa replied. She addressed older people with polite sirs and madams. Though she had never used the formal forms with me, I thought it an attractive trait.

	Our classmates were still looking at us suspiciously when the critiques began. It might have made them feel better to know I was more lost than anyone else in the room.

	As we left class, Melisa asked if I wanted the notes to one of the classes I skipped that afternoon. It was the first time she made the offer. I watched as she weaved a web strand directly under my feet. Unfortunately, Professor Ryan would have been hard fought to find more tempting bait than Melisa Bryar. I said I would be working on a paper most of the day, but she could bring her notes by my dorm room around eight p.m.

	Professor Ryan caught up to me as I headed for the bus stop. He wanted to reschedule our meeting for the next day at three. I asked if he was sure he would not be busy this time. He laughed and promised to clear his schedule. I agreed to meet, willingly pulling the strands tighter.

	I finished my paper, put it in my professor's box, and shrugged the class out of my schedule. I preferred professors like Dr. Lawren; the organization of her assigned readings, papers, and class discussions made her final a relative breeze. I had signed up to take another of her courses the next semester.

	I ate dinner by myself and thought about the last day. I could not see the whole web so I gave up and headed to my room. Melisa was waiting in the lounge. She smiled as I came out of the elevator.

	Blondes were allowed to do as they damn well pleased as long as they let me watch. Melisa grasped the concept and even leaned on it upon occasion. The non-aggressive attention I gave her was probably another reason she spent so much time around me.

	She had changed into shorts and a t-shirt: nice shorts, tight t-shirt. The sexiness of the outfit surprised me. I took Melisa for a moral majority player; then again, I placed the same classification on Doris Alex.

	"Hi, David," she said, bouncing up to me.

	"Hello."

	"Got my notes!" She pushed her book bag at me.

	I smiled and answered in conspiratorial whisper, "How about my room for the exchange?"

	She gave me the catnip smile, which had shadowed me for the last day.

	I held the door leading to my side of the floor open; she nodded thanks and walked to my door. If Melisa Bryar had panties on, they could not have been substantial enough to use as dental floss.

	I almost expressed disappointment at finding my roommate inside. Melisa climbed onto my bed; I had turned the legs upside down and put the frame back on to raise the height of the bed. She gave it a few test bounces before looking around. I stared at my roommate, hoping he would leave us alone, but he did not.

	Different frequencies of reality.

	"Well, I guess I'll copy your notes down," I said smiling at Melisa. She raised an eyebrow at my roommate to let me know she knew exactly what I had been thinking.

	"I made photocopies for you," she said. I looked at her questioningly. Her lips turned upward, hinting she was ready to dive headlong into the nip.

	"How about a movie? I brought some with me. Last year, you let me pick on every movie night so I'll let you choose what we watch. I've got the 'The Story of O', 'The Lover' and," she paused dramatically to look at me, "'The Little Mermaid'."
	
	"You know I like a warm body next to me when I watch a movie," she said. It was unnecessary; I remembered every one of our movie nights. I looked at my roommate again, but his nose remained buried in a book.

	"'The Little Mermaid'," I said finally. I had no intention of inviting my roommate to the threesome of Melisa, some steamy love scenes, and me.

	"It's my favorite movie!" she replied. I did not know how much of it was real, but Melisa did have on some nice shorts and a tight t-shirt.

	She pulled the movie out of her book bag and crawled to the far end of the bed, unnecessarily throwing in a couple of wiggles. I thought teasing was the only thing on menu so I enjoyed the view. Melisa popped the video in, and turned the TV on. She turned around and crawled back smiling at me. She knew I had been looking. I sat down on the chair by my desk. She lay down on her stomach, staring at me while the copyright message came on the screen.

	She pouted; I gave her my best innocent look. She extended the ring hand to me. I could not say for sure the payoff would be something like Doris Alex on her knees, but not letting Melisa play would have been a mistake so I got on the bed with her.

	A majority of males on campus would have accepted my roommate's continuing presence as conclusive proof of his asshole status.

	Melisa moved over me so she was on the outside of the bed and lay against me. She folded her hands, putting the ring hand nearest to me. I ignored the movie to study the ring. The gold band was too thick for a woman, covering the entire area between her knuckles. The stone was pristinely white, like someone peeled a pearl and flattened the peels to make the face. The band had an etching of a man on his knees, head down in submission, and wrists bound. I put my hand on Melisa's, rotated it to look at the other side, and found an etching of a female in the same position.

	Doris Alex came to mind: a woman on her knees, her being focused on being the vessel of his pleasure. I thought of Melisa in the same pose, preferably with no roommate in sight. Not that I believed she would have cared about his presence if the ring meant what it seemed to. I got uncomfortably hard in seconds. I tried to unobtrusively realign myself to a comfortable angle. Melisa took my movement the wrong way and lowered her head to my lap.

	She turned enough to look at me with those beautiful green eyes. Melisa was pushing the envelope. I did not doubt it was a test but could not think of a reason for it. My only recourse was to allow the teasing and test to continue.

	I stroked her hair, an innocent touch without necessarily being sexual. It worked to calm my body, focusing my attention on the feel of her hair instead of my lap where inches away a mouth I wanted surrounding my dick was smiling at the acceptance of her purpose. I tried to watch the rest of the movie, playing with her blonde hair helped.

	Melisa had come to push my patience and control to the limit.

	When the movie finished, she crawled to the TV, throwing in another set of teasing wiggles. In case, I had any doubts the outline of her crease announced her feminity.

	She hit the rewind button, and turned her head to watch me staring at her. Her hips moved in a slow left to right to left motion; left to right, pause, smile, right to left, pause, and smile wider.

	Melisa dropped her head. I had eyes only for her ass, pointing at me like the barrel of a gun threatening the consequences of failing her test. I heard her pop the tape; the TV screen turned to snow. She turned around and crawled up my legs until her face was inches from mine. She stared into me; the focus was back, all of her consumed in me.

	I was leaning against the large drawer set at the head of my bed. She straddled my lap and sat down. She stared at me as she made slight adjustments to find the right alignment. She pressed her pussy against me, making hard contact with my dick. Her eyes lost focus and came back hungry. She pushed down against the barriers between us, pressing me closer to her center. Her eyes lost focus again as she moved her hips back and forth. She grabbed my shoulders, touched her forehead to mine, contracted her stomach wall, and rubbed her clit against my dick.

	She stretched her chest forward, and her head dropped back. She lengthened the stroke along my dick. She stopped her motion and looked at me again. Her eyes were green fire; she was close to going too far. Melisa wanted to cross whatever line there was between us. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. She relaxed on top of me as I chose the test instead of letting her lose control.

	I dropped my hands to her ass, one hand on each asscheek. I spread them and pushed against her core. Her body coiled in sexual tension; she put her face against my neck. I felt her teeth as she opened her mouth to expel her need.

	I kept her ass spread as I moved her back and forth on my dick. I increased the upward pressure as I guided her towards pleasure. She whimpered against my neck and kissed me. I absorbed the desire she was throwing at me, knowing what she really wanted. I felt her go higher and dug my fingers into her tight ass. In that moment, I could be harsh and it only drove her closer.

	She dug her nails into my arms, battering me with her need and hunger. She tried to take back control by moving her hips, but I refuted her attempt. Her body tightened with desire. She took in hard inhalations in a series, bit the space where my neck and shoulder joined, and whispered a wordless cry into my ear. Her upper body contracted rapidly; her legs gave and she sat with all her weight on me.

	I moved my hips a final time, giving her the last push to send her tumbling end over end. Her entire body tightened, she dug her nails into me for a second then flattened her hands on my chest so she could push on me to get her pussy more contact with my body. Her breath exploded out of her mouth. After what seemed like an endless moment, she shook several times. She tried to hold in the voice of the waves of pleasure crashing through her. She dropped her forehead on mine and softened the pressure of her hands on my chest.

	We stayed in position while she recovered.

	She moved to kneel beside me on the bed and grabbed my blanket. I gave her a confused look when she covered her lower body and my legs. She put her hands under the blanket and teased me with a smile. She moved around for a bit until she pulled her panties and shorts out from under the blanket. She put the shorts beside me and straddled my lap again.

	She held the panties in front of my face. They were white; I could not imagine how they could have possibly been smaller. She turned them inside out and opened the cloth that cupped her pussy while she wore them. She looked deep into my eyes and put her tongue on the fabric. She licked her pleasure from them, sucking the cloth to draw as much as she could out.

	Her move was slow, giving me plenty of warning and time to move away. She put her hands on either side of my face and moved her lips to mine.

	Melisa Bryar tasted sweet. I closed my eyes, as her tongue entered my mouth. She wrapped her essence around me. I tasted her with each part of my tongue, learning the full flavor of her pleasure.

	We did not kiss, instead fed on each other. I could taste more than pleasure on her lips and tongue. Her frustration danced with mine. The need was greater than my own, as if she had waited longer for us to touch. She did not like the game either, wanting to burn both of us in the bed.

	Our tongues rubbed against each other hard. I grabbed her hair in both hands and pulled her closer. I felt her fighting me, but only because she was losing contact with my lower body. I pushed up against her, and she wiped her pussy's moisture off on my pants. Her hands came down on either side of my chest to dig her nails into me through the shirt.

	I softened the contact of our lips to a normal boy-girl kiss. In disappointment, she tried to bring me back. I broke the kiss, making her whimper. I looked into her eyes, giving the question to her purpose; if I touched her naked skin, there would be no stopping. She took a deep breath and shook her head.

	I kissed her, wanting to make sure I drank in every drop of her that she had sucked from her panties. She broke the kiss and touched my face. She grabbed her shorts and turned on my lap; putting them required a lot of wriggling for some reason.

	She moved to the foot of the bed, pulled the movie out of the VCR, and turned the TV off. She got off the bed to put the movie in her book bag. She walked back to the bed dragging her bag. She leaned against the edge and smiled into my eyes before giving me a brief kiss.

	"I promise you, David, this is worth it," she said burrowing with her eyes into my head. "I will make it all worth it for you!"

	"You are worth it, Melisa," I replied. They were not my words, but I had always trusted the source. I reached forward and gave her a quick kiss of my own.

	"Bye," she whispered against my lips. I did not watch her leave. I sat back and stared at the blank screen of the TV.

	"What the fuck was that?!?"

	I turned to look at my roommate.

	"Did the Bryar Patch just dry-hump you or am I fucking dreaming?" he asked feverishly. I had to wonder if on his frequency the word dickhead meant humanitarian. "Nobody is going to believe this shit!"

	I got up to take a cold shower; Melisa was the main reason I needed one, but the consequences of beating my roommate to a pulp were becoming more tolerable by the second.

	Drying myself, I thought about the web. Melisa raised the stakes while showing me more of the prize. She was a deep part of whatever I had fallen into.

	Doris Alex and Melisa Bryar, only one other name would have drawn me deeper than those two, but there was not a whole lot I could do except wait for my appointment with Professor Ryan.
